Souvenir Standards

I hauled myself across the slick tabletop to confront an undeniable insult: a hefty ceramic souvenir mug sitting beside a heavy brass stapler. Emblazoned across the glazed glaze was a murky, slouching silhouette beneath the words 'I Want to Believe.' The proportions were offensive—no deltoids to speak of, rounded shoulders, and arms dangling like overcooked celery. To see if it possessed any real substance, I braced a foot against a wooden pencil cup and shoved the mug's thick handle with both fists. It slid two inches across the varnish with a satisfying, gritty scrape. A respectable paperweight, even if the portraiture is utter slander.