Monday: 11.42am
Sato breathed a deep, heartfelt sigh of relief. He couldn't believe he had actually gotten away with that one! Even if he was right. Cost cutting procedures meant they were lucky those bags didn't split all the time. He went inside to get a dust bin and his broom from the appropriate closet, then headed back out to the dumpster and started sweeping the mess into the dust bin so he could put it into the dumpster. Really dodged a bullet there, Sato. I'll have to pay more attention...
You go indoors to get your equipment out of one of the janitorial cupboards without any difficulty [5]. Your mind drifts back to that time you got locked in one of them as you carry your gear outside and get sweeping up the mess, and then gets jolted back to the present. Where the hell are all these bits of pigeon coming from? It seems to be some kind of infestation of dead pigeons. You’ve got it all cleaned up just as the boss walks past [5].
“Ah, that’s much better Satoshi. Can you go up to Presentation Room Green Four 24 and get the chairs set up for a 40 person presentation please? Set them up lecture style and make sure the temperature’s ok and the bins are clean and empty, I’ve got to go and get Professor Crack from reception.”
Success! Task completed!
Task Completed! Dumpster area hygienificated!
Task Assigned! Set up Presentation Room Green Four 24!
Failure Rating: 5.
Morale: 9.
Accept offer of coffee. Give her the extra Snickers should we get a chance to sit down and chat.
“Sure, I’ve got five minutes, I’d love to have a coffee” you manage to get out without even turning red [5].
You turn back towards the canteen and get a coffee with Emma from Accounts.
“Hey, I got an extra Snickers out the vending machine earlier,” you start, “would you like it?”
“Oh my god Larry that’s so kind! They’re totally my favourite food ever, wow!” She gives you a massive and entirely sincere smile, the kind you practically never get, whether at work or from girls generally [6].
Good lord, I’m totally in there, you think to yourself. Try not to turn red Thrakor, come on… Try to think of something intelligent and witty and interesting to say oh god oh god oh god what’s she saying arg
You manage to tune back in and realise that she’s telling you she has a spare ticket for the Accidental Toilet gig on Thursday night OH MY GOD SHE’S ASKING YOU TO COME TO IT OH GOD WHAT SHE’S SO REASONABLY HOT WHAT SHOU-
BOSSCHECK!OH SHIT. The boss just walked in. You’re not meant to be on a break at all. He’s with Professor Crack who must have turned up early for her talk. Perhaps he won’t notice you. He’s getting Professor Crack a coffee. He’s turning round. He’s… walking… straight… to the table next to you!
You can’t think right. Your vision blurs. Your pansiness seems to think this is the right moment to kick in! Arg!
He sits Professor Crack down at a table with her coffee, and he comes over to you. You start turning red. You start to shake, but you manage to hide it. Just about. He stops by your shoulder and leans over, clearly wanting to avoid a loud scene.
“Thrakor. I’m going to go and finish having a coffee with Professor Crack, and if you’re not back at your desk by the time I show her round, you’re goddamn fired. Unscheduled breaks are goddamn NOT PERMITTE-“
“Oh that’s ok Mr Boss,” interrupts Emma from Accounts. “I just passed him in the corridor when suddenly I had a faint spell because of my diabetes, so he caught me before I fell and then brought me here to eat something sugary and make sure I was ok!” She smiles innocently at the boss and flutters her eyelids a bit. She flashes you a conspiratorial smile. Your heart melts. Your cheeks redden.
“Oh. Ok then. Hum. Very good. As you were.” He turns to you as he heads back to Professor Crack. “I’ve got my eye on you, Larry Thrakor. You watch out,” before he adds, more audibly and more pleasantly, presumably for the benefit of the Professor, “Larry, will you go and get the projector set up in Presentation Room Green Four 24 please? We need it ready for twelve.”
BOSSCHECK PASSED!Morale Dro- oh wait! Morale Boost! Oh my god what just happened?!
Task Assigned! Set up projector!
Failure Rating: 12.
Morale: 5
Kathryn keeps up her crocodile tears for all of a moment, then skips away whistling "I'm proud to be an American." USA! USA! USA! Too bad the whole country went facist a few years back during the economic collapse. That was entirely not cool.
But, It was so refreshing to be reminded how much of a dumbass her boss was. The undoubtly draconian security measures that would probably soon go into place as part of her grand fiction, probably not as refreshing though.
She makes her way to the new office, and hopefilly begins the teleconference minuting-this was a soft ball, really. Typing and Acrobatics were the two things she was best at.
You stop crying as the boss leaves and whistle patriotically to yourself. You figure you’d do well to get over to Blue Square 23; it takes you about 5 minutes to find the damn place [3], hidden away as it is in the bowels of Bruce Halford’s monstrous and narcissistic lair. You settle down at a workstation and turn the computer on [2]. Dammit, your username doesn’t work in this wing of the complex. You’re going to have to put a helpcall through to IT to get them to sort out your user rights. If one of those speccy geeks actually comes down here to try that goddamn space pants line on you AGAIN…
Morale Drop! Frustrating IT!
Task Assigned! Minute a teleconference recording!
Task Assigned! Sign up for some fire training!
Failure Rating: 15.
Morale: 6
Toby feels that meeting the boss will be his first...and last chance at redeeming himself... and that just won't do. So, without pants, he takes the remaining tubes of smelly gas and begins his campaign of terror...starting with opening a few tubes and chucking them into the cubicles around him!
The boss leaves and you sit down and take a few minutes to calm yourself [3].
Thoughts gathered and mind calmed, you decide, oh well, what the hell, and open a handful of the experimental gastric test tubes and start chucking them about.
One slips from your grasp and lands at your feet, smashing instantly. The fumes waft up into your face and tears start to roll down your cheeks as you struggle to control your urge to be violently sick. Another test tube hits James, the colleague sitting opposite you. Is he from Accounts or something? You don’t care anymore. You can barely see anymore. The test tube hits him in the face and slides down into his lap. He stands up, shouting aggressively, apparently about to come and confront you, before suddenly doubling over in agony. He starts being horribly sick. As more of your colleagues get up, seemingly intent on restraining you, you decide to flee from the room and smash more test tubes on the floor as you do!
You open the door and come face to face with a security guard. He must be one of the ones sent to apprehend you earlier in Dr Fleck’s lab. How else could he have got here so quick? The fiend’s been tracking you down. Perhaps they’re all after you? You tell yourself you need to get out of there quick. Unable to control yourself any longer, you vomit vigorously in his face and barge past him, throwing a test tube behind you as you go. Enraged, the security guard shouts after you and gives chase, but immediately slips over in the sick you’ve left behind.
You run giggling like a madman down the many corridors of GenCorp HQ; passing one door you kick it in with a flash of maniacal violence and throw a bunch of opened test tubes in before running away again. Behind you come screams of panic, gargles of fear and cries for security; a woman runs out screaming, “
Help! Terrorists! The terrorists have come back! Help! They’ve got nerve gas! Help!” Other doors start opening as people rush out wondering just what the hell is going on, and you see a pair of security guards at the end of the corridor. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see another pair behind you. You’re trapped! You start to vomit again.
Morale Boost! Causing chaos!
Morale Drop! Covered in sick!
Morale Drop! Extreme failing!
Fail! Why in the lord’s name have you still got no trousers on?
Fail! Still requested in the boss’s office!
Task Assigned! Head to the boss’s office!
Failure Rating: 28.
Morale: -6.
Get a coffee, get some light jazz on, and do your work.
Admirably taking proactive steps to combat the drop in performance that will probably result from what you perceive as inevitable boredom, you take five minutes to head down to the break room to grab a coffee from the vending machine, but it’s empty [2]! Bother. Disheartened, you head back up to your office and try to find some light jazz on the radio [2]. You can’t find anything except violent eurotechno though, so eventually you settle for a station that seems to be playing Accidental Toilet’s recent light folk hit The Recalcitrant Heathen. You totally dig the bouzouki, but the mournful lyrics just aren’t helping your data entry [1].
Eventually your typing slows to such a speed that your vision clouds over and you don’t come to your senses until your computer starts making a bunch of annoying beeps. Looking back up at the screen, you see something about “sticky keys”, wonder what the hell’s going on, and get back to typing. Your keyboard doesn’t seem to work! You’re going to have to put a helpcall through to IT!
Morale Drop! No coffee!
Morale Drop! Depressing folk music!
Morale Drop! Data entry dragging on and on!
Task Assigned! Data entry!
Failure Rating: 12.
Morale: -6.
Get violently sick and go home for a few days.
You’re about to decide to bin the whole bunch of filing and resign when the boss walks in. It seems he was just passing, escorting Professor Crack to Presentation Room Green Four 24 for her lunchtime talk, but he seems to enjoy picking on you so walks in, telling her he’ll just be two minutes.
BOSSCHECK!“Frederick, I’m fairly sure I asked you to GET YOUR GODDAMN ASS DOWN TO THE ARCHIVE ROOMS AND GET FILING. I’ve had enough, get up to my office at lunchtime. You’re getting disciplinary act-“
As he speaks, you start feeling unwell. You stand up; you clutch your stomach; you try to focus on what the bitter %$@! is yelling at you; you manage to blurt out,
“Sorry sir, I bleurrrrrrrrrrrrrgh”
You vomit all over the boss! Goddamn that feels better!
“OH JESUS FREDERICK WHAT TH-“
“
Bleuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh” But not as good as that!
He at least takes a step back now before insulting you further. He opens his mouth to speak, but…
“
Bleuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrghhh” Actually you feel a bit iffy now!
“FREDERICK GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! GO HOME AND DON’T COME BACK BEFORE I’VE CALMED DOWN OR I SWEAR I’LL BEAT YOU SO HARD…”
His voice trails off into a strangled wail.
“Oh god I’ve got to introduce Professor Crack to the board in 15 minutes.”
Covered in your sick, he walks out to escort Professor Crack. You can hear her disgusted reaction from back in your office.
You decide to go home, and as you leave the premises you see several armoured police vans drive into the complex. What’s all that about then? You’re too busy feeling crappy to care all that much.
BOSSCHECK er… well… um… OVER!Fail! Sicked all over the boss!
Morale Boost! Sicked all over the boss!
No Task Assigned! Decided to go home sick!
Failure Rating: 19.
Morale: 5.
Warning! You are unwell and have gone home. Your boss hates your guts, of which he now has an acrid smelling sample.