When is it a good time to tell your wife you're storing 500 piñatas in your basement?

Last night I was at home sitting around the dinner table casually reflecting on the day while sipping on some delicious nips of Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey when my wife storms up from the basement. "What the hell is all that shit down there?" "The boxes?" "Yeah, the boxes- what the hell is all that stuff?" "Those are the NIPYATA's I was telling you about. They are gonna sell like hotcakes, sweetie." Then came the death stare.

NIPYATA! Death Stare

Anyway, the moral of the story is there is NO GOOD TIME TO DISCUSS 500 NIPYATAS STORED IN THE BASEMENT. So please get your orders in quick before my wife throws out all of our inventory.  Thanks and have an awesome day! -Señor Nippy Yata


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