It would seem I was right. I got to work bright and early this morning, and the third shift sub brazer hadn't showed up. I guess I'll be going in early for a while.
You know, I have good intentions. I stand there at work, just a working away, making all these plans to do this and that when I get home. Today, I was going to see if I could split some wood with Mjolnir and my new splitting wedge, and maybe start clearing some of the plants and stuff away from my back fence.
In the end, all I got done was to get the machete out of the package.
That in itself was quite the task. Nevertheless, I persevered and managed to get the machete free from the plastic...whereupon said machete promptly declared its name to be Sting.
"You're not a sword," I said.
"This is America," the machete replied, "the land of opportunity. With hard work and determination, I can become anything I want to be. The American Dream, and all that. Therefore, I am a sword."
"But I don't need a sword," I replied. "I need a machete."
"Oh, very well, I'll be a machete, but I'm still calling myself Sting."
And that is how a humble machete came to be known as Sting.
Clearly, I don't get enough sleep.