"Ah, sir, it seems you're unsatisfied with our services. Would you like to submit a formal complain about HR?"
Keep talking him through loops, but press "call security button" and hope it's silent.
(2, 5v2)
“I DEMAAAAAND TOOO SPEEAAAK TOOOO YOOOOUUUUUR MAAANAAGEER!”As the rotting-meat stench of Niz’thur’s breath washes over you, you fumble for the panic button beneath your desk. You successfully locate three pieces of chewed gum by the time the smoke clears, but there isn’t a single sign of the button.
Before you can recall any useful tidbits from your orientation, Niz’thur lunges at you, sweeping the desk aside. You had enough time to throw yourself backwards before he could skewer you with a claw, but you’re still left to deal with a middling horror without security to back you up.
nope, not Eshe, she's the only human in the forward facing accountants. Might have been one of the other staff, or maybe a client that was onlooking the situation. Push forward further into the office and discover the source.
(4)
You push through the horde of cockroaches with your baton, smacking the giant bugs away before they can bite you. The sheer number of insects pouring out makes it slow going, but you soon find yourself inside the remains of the Paperwork Reception room. They’re definitely going to need a new one after this debacle, there’s no question of that.
The printers are outputting wasp swarms instead of business reports, which is concerning. A giant hand is tearing itself from the wall, which is also a definite issue. But the most immediate problem is a whole stack of printed summoning circles, which are presumably the cause of this whole mess.
Name: Elder Rich
Appearance: An old guy wearing clothes that flicker between the ages---one moment he is wearing a toga, the next a business suit, and then robes, then a futuristic spacesuit of some sort, and so on.
Position: Chief of Department Evaluation, Department of Horrors
You work in the Department of Horrors, a name most people agree is preferable to “Department Management Department.” As the esteemed Chief of Department Evaluation, this makes you rather important indeed.
Naturally, your vast and unfathomable importance means you are subject to the great honor of receiving a half-ton of paperwork immediately after your lunch break.
You can probably ignore most of it until your secretary gets back from her vacation in the Inner Ring, but it might be worth finding something else to do. Lounging around is difficult to rationalize when there’s a giant stack of incomplete forms on your desk.
Get back to fixing the Banishment Department's eldernet router and after that go on a quick brake
(1)
You ignore the Necronomicon giveaway, or… well, whatever that was, and return to fixing the eldernet router. It keeps malfunctioning after you turn it off and on again, so it really must be on the fritz.
About ten seconds later, you look up from your computer screen to see that the router has grown tentacles and is beginning to crawl away. So much for taking a trip to the break room.
"Hello, John. Please, come in. Just lay down on this bed here and try to relax."
Once he's nice and relaxed and receptive, mind-whammy him with a happiness blast, making him permanently happy, enthusiastic, and eager to work.
Then send him out and call in my next "patient".
Yeah, we used to use standard therapy methods, but this method is so much simpler, cheaper, and more effective.
(2)
You grab your company-issued mind controller and sit Mr. Smith down. As he gets himself settled and starts blabber on about his problems, you surreptitiously flip a switch, programming the machine to blast him with rays of pure, unadulterated
happiness. He’ll leave a new man, his productivity will stop tanking, everyone’s a winner.
At least, that’s what should happen. Instead, the device flashes some warning lights and emits a particularly joyful burst of sparks. Your smile remains warm and sunny, as ever, but inwardly you begin to feel a mounting sense of dread. Looks like you might have to do this the normal way.
"Why are you stari- You know what, never mind. I am severely disappointed in you. As fellow cleaners we are honor-bound to provide a clean workplace for the others. And what do i see here? A grown man playing with rubber gloves. Disgraceful. Where is your sense of duty? Stop staring at those gloves and get back to work."
Confiscate his rubber gloves.
"You're not getting these back until you get your act back together."
Prevent this action. By force if necessary.[/s] "I do my job, lunchmeat! You can fuck off! You ain't nobody's boss!"
Edit: since the gloves confiscation emergency has been resolved peacefully, Ide will go home to his efficiency, shower and change, leave the gloves there, and go to the nearest bar that is not immediately fatal to his kind. For a drink.
(6)
You tell the meddling janitor off, waving your b̧̩el͕͜o͈v̼̱e̴͉͚d̵͚̬̘ ̘͓̖r̭ṵ̴͈̦̱b̻͚b̨͍͖e̬͙̹r̺̪ ̵̼g̲̼l͎̗o̟̗͞ve̕s͏ in his face to underscore your point. He doesn’t seem to appreciate it, but he does decide to bug off, which is nice. That’s what he gets for trying to confiscate your personal property.
After cleaning up the remains of the Archons’ fresh lunch, haggling with Phil from Shipping, and dealing with an annoying coworker, you decide that it’s definitely high time for a lunch break of your own. You leave the building, walk back home to change, then set out for the nearest bar, g͕l̼o̜͝v͝e̳s̢̰ in hand. It briefly occurred to you to leave them, but that simply wouldn’t do.
Today’s menu is a bit heavy on radioactive compounds and H2O2, but you sit down and order a beer that you don’t think will be immediately fatal. Now just to kick back and decide whether or not to chance it.
"Fine."
Don't take his gloves. Find my own gloves. Do another round of taking out the trash. Aim for employee of the month.
(5)
You storm off towards the Yelloweast wing, determined to compensate for the viscera guy’s lackluster performance. Just to rub salt in the metaphorical wounds, you grab a pair of disposable rubber gloves from a closet en-route. That’ll show him!
You’re actively competing with the wing’s own janitor, who definitely has an eye on your title, but you grab a few shoggoths to do paper runs and complete your rounds in record time. It’s hard to tell for sure, but you think a corporate Overlord noticed your fervent trash-dumping. Employee of the month can’t be far away.
I Send a request for the required fluids to inhuman resources.
(5)
Well, looks like it’s time to hit the paperwork. You print out a few requisition forms, fill them out, and toss them in the general direction of the first intern you see. When he gives you a confused look, you helpfully point him towards the concessions department on the third floor.
About thirty minutes later, a shoggoth comes down with a giant cooler tied to its back. A quick look inside confirms it to be your beverage cart. Everything is there, from big pots of nutrient slurry to soda cans full of orangutang blood. Now you only need to distribute it.
Technically the paperwork is complete. Thus it is no longer my problem. Locate an underoccupied intern and make it his problem. Oh hey, there's one in the IT department now. Employ cosmic small talk to befriend intern while training Hands of the Void in penmanship and Gregg shorthand.
Quietly standing up from his desk, Cole goes to check and maintain the perimeter alarms around the intern cubicle block.
(Aaron: 5, Cole: 6)
Aaron gathers up the stack of paperwork, bundles it up, and heads straight for the unoccupied interns in IT. There were always a few, courtesy of late response times, insufficient automation, and the mile-long trek between the department’s headquarters and the Paperwork Reception room.
He heads into the interns’ cubicle block... and triggers a perimeter alarm that definitely wasn’t there last week. Maybe IT doesn’t actually appreciate it when people from finance send work to their interns?
No matter. Aaron shoves his pile of paperwork into the hands of an intern he dimly recognizes as Cole, then proceeds to chat up a storm until security arrives. Might be best to explain the situation before summoning up ominous void-hands.
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Topic: Roll to Ǫ̸̛ff͟i͢c҉̀ę̕: Paperwork in Five Dimensions (Read 8763 times)