  urlLink Don't get me wrong. I love me some Krispy Kreme. Few things are better than a glazed donut from the Double-K when it's fresh out of the oven. But what I don't like, are little bastards dressing up as Krispy Kreme workers in a sad attempt to be interviewed on the noon show. These two kids ...probably 19 tops...come in this morning as I'm about to leave on a mid-morning break. They show up in the newsroom and say they're going to be interviewed on the noon show because it's the first day of public school around here, and they were passing out donuts to kids in celebration or whatever.
But when they told my bosses all this--it sounded more like gibberish and less like the English language. So they call me back in, tell me two young men are in the newsroom...and were nervous and didn't know what questions I was going to ask in the interview and therefore came in early. Way early. I'm thinking, okay , shit, fine, I'll be right there--I hadn't even gotten out of the parking lot yet. So I come in, tell them I didn't have them down in my calendar for an interview today (Monday and Wednesday afternoons are reserved for the Animal Shelter to bring in stray cats and dogs) and ask them who they talked to.
More gibberish--"I think it started with an 'S'," genius number one says. "I didn't write anything down. " You little idiots. So I think that maybe they got confused, and were supposed to be on our competition's show on NBC. So, for the first time ever, I call over there and ask. Nope, was the unenthusiastic answer. Okay, so what gives with these guys.
So my bosses are in my news directors office, and call me in and we shut the door. He says to tell them to get lost, that we can set something up some other time. Then we say, hey, let's call Krispy Kreme. The manager there doesn't seem to know about any young employees telling a tv news show about how they handed out free donuts to kids. So I go back out, tell the kids hey sorry but we can't put you on. But before you leave, what's your guys' names and your boss' name.
I write it down...and as they're walking out I call up Krispy Kreme again. The guy says nobody by the three names I got even works there (and it's the only one in town). I hang up and run outside--alas, they had fled. Damn little bastards . Don't fuck with KLBK-13. We'll eat your children. 
