Monday: 2.21pmLets finish that first aid form.
Suddenly remembering you have to file a first aid resource usage statement form for nearly bleeding to death before lunch, you print one off from the nearest computer you have access to and complete it. It’s long and tedious, which is partly the point as otherwise GenCorp employees would presumably injure themselves more often, but you get it completed fine, and you pop it into the internal post [3].
Morale Drop! Tedious form filling!
Success! Completed a form!
Task Completed! Completed a first aid resource usage statement form!
Failure Rating: 12.
Morale: -6.
Finishing with the room - or as much as he cared to - Satoshi thought about things. Is this really what I want to be doing? I mean, hell, I could get a loan somewhere, or get a grant from the government to start my own business. If I keep doing this I'll just be stuck here in a job I don't particularly like doing disgusting things for years. And damn, man, I can't take another dead freaking pigeon. Would it be better to just walk off, or leave a resignation? He thought it over for a few moments. He probably couldn't do a proper resignation letter; the computers here were such crap that they'd probably break as soon as he looked at them.
...Guess I'll just take off. I still got time to swing by the library and see about getting a grant. He went back to put up his cleaning supplies, then went out to his bike. "Sayonara, GenCo."
Deciding enough is quite frankly enough, you leave, eschewing even so much as a possibly-useful-in-the-future reference from your heartless ex-employer. It doesn’t quite feel as liberating as you might have hoped though [3]. As you walk out of main reception, head held high, you spot the two women behind the desk, fighting to the death. You glance [6] at the only computer left on the desk: it breaks. It starts smoking slightly.
Fail! Jacked it all in!
Success! Jacked it all in!
Fail! Broke and set alight GenCorp property!
Morale Boost! Hope of a better life! It’s the American Dream!
Task Rejected! The boss will have to reassign unblocking the overflowing toilet in Toilet Block H90!
Failure Rating: 17.
Morale: 8.
PTM proceeded to realize it would be smart to find a shirt. So he tried to.
Realising, suddenly, that you are barely half dressed, you look for a shirt. You find one [6] on a passing hippy who clearly loves trees! You threaten the idiot with your chainsaw, demanding he give his shirt to the Treeslaying God, but he looks at your burn covered upper body and blistering face and starts violently fleeing back towards the GenComplex. You throw the chainsaw at his feet to trip him up: you NEED to be correctly dressed to cut down trees and destroy weeds! You would otherwise present a safety hazard! But alas! You forgot to turn the chainsaw off before throwing it, and it cuts the running man’s feet off. He stops running abruptly. You walk over to him, whimpering and curled in a ball on the floor, and you demand what is rightfully yours, but he just cries at you. You ask him again to get undressed, but then he starts shouting, “Help! Help! Help!”, and as he takes off his shirt a small crowd gather round.
They see you threatening an undressed and horribly wounded man with your chainsaw held triumphantly above your head, and one of them starts dialing to call the cops.
Morale Boost! Powder Woodcutter: Treeslayer!
Morale Boost! Carrying a chainsaw!
Success! Acquired a shirt!
Fail! Severely injuring the deputy head of HR!
Failure Rating: 15.
Morale: 2.
Wake up and get out of the lift via the escape hatch. Go fix the mouse from there.
You don’t know how long you’ve been there, but all of a sudden you wake up huddled in the corner of the lift. It doesn’t seem to be moving. Clearly, you need to escape. For all you know it could be the coming of the apocalypse, and it would be of very little use merely calling the lift maintenance on the emergency channel.
You locate the escape hatch, savagely smash it open, and hoist yourself a little unsteadily onto the roof of the lift. But then you noitce you’ve left the mouse in the lift! You climb down to get it back, but you’re obviously still a little light-headed [1] from the awesome wine-filled lunch, and you slip! You fall straight back down into the lift, and smack your head heavily on the floor! You have just enough time to notice blood dribbling down your face and to admire the reverberating boiiiiiiiiiing sound your head makes on the lift in the lift shaft before you lose consciousness.
Morale Boost! Action hero!
Morale Drop! Bleeding!
Fail! Haven’t fixed the damn mouse yet!
Fail! Unconscious on the job!
Task Assigned! Fix the damn mouse!
Failure Rating: 19.
Morale: 13
Warning! Your Morale is so high that you are beginning to look suspiciously happy! Or would if you were not asleep! Remember folks, we are here to work, not to have fun!Tracy grabbed a chunk of glass and threw it frisbee style at the bitch's throat, scooping up another chunk while it was flying towards her, just in case her lard managed to stop it. She launched herself into the mass of fat going to town with the glass. Quite obviously out of her mind, she started screeching about her scratched cheek and expensive clothes ruined. Grabbing the baseball bat out of Gloria's weak handed grip she smashed it onto the top of the obese one's head with a sickening crunch. (or she'll be massacred by Gloria. Either way.)
Seeing Gloria grasping the baseball bat, it’s clear that this is a fight to the death. You grab a chunk of glass and throw it at her fat throat. You miss entirely [2], but in her panicked attempt at dodging the ugly ogre drops her vicious weapon. You scoop up another shard of the jagged glass and cut your fingers horribly [2], before throwing yourself at Gloria and delivering blow after blow into her oversized chest, screaming like an angry hyena about your ruined cheek and scratched clothes. You’re completely out of your mind [5] with expensive cheek rage and manage to pummel her to the ground, whereupon you swipe up the baseball bat and smash it into her disgusting round head.
She doesn’t seem to be breathing [5]. She is struck down! Next to you, you notice smoke coming from the surviving computer.
Morale Boost! Smashed her head in!
Morale Drop! Your hair’s all messed up!
Morale Boost! Triumph of the Warrior!
Fail! Fighting on GenCorp premises!
Fail! Manslaughtered a colleague!
Fail! Haven’t got that report typed up yet!
Task Assigned! Type up the report!
Task Assigned! Assist reception!
Failure Rating: 23.
Morale: 3.
Kathryn takes a moment to recollect herself. Punching her boss will only bring momentary relief-and probably criminal charges-...but perhaps, she thinks-maybe she should begin to abandon this rage that has consumed her life for so long, before it ends up killing her through stress. Why was she so angry anyway? It began to seem so trivial, all of it.
As she walks out of the building, a new sense of peace comes over her. Revenge ultimately solves nothing. Better to let go and enjoy your life, if you have people to enjoy it with-and she does. she thinks of her sister and brothers, her mother and father...maybe that guy who lives by her apartment-and isn't a jerk-could use another chance-one not ruined by her work schedule.
She's off the rat wheel. The prison walls crumble. The clock that ran her life ticks once more in defiance, then falls silent forever. Now she's running-sprinting-she even does an acrobatic cartwheel, feelling like a kid again, probably to the disdain of any workers viewing her from within their prison. She's more free than she has ever been before. And that's just all right.
The phone is in her hand. 'Hey sis? I want to say...sorry about this morning...also, remember when we used to talk about opening a Kosher Sandwich shop?"
Kathryn laughs quietly to something her sister says on the other end. The first real laugh in a long time.
~The End~
You walk out of the GenComplex with a sudden rush of ZenPeace – that yogalates must really be paying off. You ring your sister.
“Hey sis? I want to say...sorry about this morning...also, remember when we used to talk about opening a Kosher Sandwich shop?"
Before you can get any further, she announces her news [6].
“Don’t worry about it sis! I just won 14 million Eurodollars on the lottery! I just smashed my boss’s nose in! I just quit! Let’s open 40 Kosher Sandwich shops!”
Morale Boost! Freedom!
Fail! Should have got started typing by now!
Success! You’re gonna be CEO of a Kosher Sandwich shop soon! Screw Bruce Halford!
Task Rejected! The boss will have to reassign minuting a teleconference recording!
Task No Longer Required! Sign up for some fire training! Let’s hope there are no fires in your new shop!
Failure Rating: 21.
Morale: 8.
… … … …
Run all the way to work to train my endurance levels.
Hoping to train your endurance levels, the second you get the call from the boss’s secretary you start sprinting to work. You sure like to keep fi-arrg! Is that? Yes! You start having a heart attack just feet from your front door [1]. You clearly aren’t as fit or as endurable as you hoped, but at least you’re friendly with the neighbours. One of them spots you collapsing to the floor and calls for a paramedic before rushing outside and enthusiastically giving you mouth to mouth. But it’s the old man from next door [2], and not the hot fitness loving lady from across the street!
Before you know what’s really going on, you’re sitting on the steps of the apartment building chatting to the prettier of the two paramedics with a blanket round your shoulders.
“Hey, do you work out?” she asks… “Perhaps you should, you shouldn’t really be having heart attacks at your age. Nice abs though.”
Morale Drop! Heart attack!
Morale Boost! Pretty lady!
Morale Drop! Who thinks you need to work out harder!
Fail! Already late for work!
Failure Rating: 12.
Morale: -1.
Dan "Danny" Woods groaned, cracked his eyes, and eventually managed to shift onto his other side. He squinted blearily at the alarm clock. 1:53, it said. He just sat there for a moment, staring blankly at it, uncomprehending.
Then "Oh, shit!!" Didn't he have work today?! He'd just got a new job, and he'd gone and slept in till freaking two o'clock on his first day!
Cursing under his breath, he rolled purposefully out of bed, crashing onto the floor. Why had he slept so late?
He wondered this as he staggered to his feet, and then his question was answered as he tripped over a cluster of bottles on the floor.
'Oh. That's why.' Grimacing, he threw on the only collared shirt in his possession, stepped into his ratty jeans and shoes and then headed out, trying not to wake his sleeping, equally-hungover roommates. 'Missed the bus... Crap.' He hurriedly buttoned up his shirt as he quickened his pace.
With the last bus from Danny's block already gone, he has to run to work, attempting to neaten himself up, comb his hair and tie his shoelaces as he goes!
You do a reasonable job of neatening yourself up as you run to work, but the effect is ruined when you stop after five minutes, bending over at the street corner, to heave up last night’s dodgy kebab. You’re violently ill for three or four minutes, and can’t entirely miss your shoes. Ah man, sick on your shoes at the end of an evening – that’s pretty sweet. On the afternoon of your first morning in a new job – damn [3].
You use the fear of losing your job to propel you forwards at even greater speed, sure that at least there’s nothing left to come up, until suddenly you reach a Zen like state of perfect awareness. It doesn’t matter! You’ll probably lose your job anyway! You’re 5 hours late!
Your feet glide along the sidewalk like a vomit-stained Zen hovercraft.
Reaching the main driveway of the GenCave, you realise with great joy and foreboding that you might not lose your job: judging by the awful carnage it would seem GenCorp might be in need of staff. When you reach main reception you go straight past the two women engaged in violent and brutal hand to hand combat OH CHRIST DID SHE JUST KILL THE FAT ONE?
What were you doing? Oh shit yes, you were meant to be talking to the boss’s secretary to see what you’re meant to be doing. She tells you that the person who was meant to be doing it seems to have vanished, so you’ve got to type up some minutes for a teleconference recording that she’s emailed you – by the end of the day if possible, it’s pretty important.
Morale Boost! No one noticed you’re late!
Morale Drop! Sick on your shoes!
Morale Drop! Just witnessed brutal murder!
Failure Rating: 10.
Morale: -2.
Task Assigned! Minute a teleconference recording!
Why I drive there of course.
And by drive I mean I get my incredibly successful brother whom I constantly mooch off to take me.
“Hey, dammit bro, you suck. I mean, why don’t you get your own car? Why can’t you even drive yet? When are you going to tell mum and dad you didn’t take medicine at college? Why aren’t you married at your age, huh? What’s that about? You know, whatever makes you happy, but I’m not terribly proud, I don’t normally tell other people about you, you know. Hey, is that a bald spot on the back there? Just lean forward a little, let me have a look. Ah, you really should start colouring that, you know. It’s much more grey than brown now…”
After about 15 minutes of incessant mild and hurtful criticism, you arrive on time at work, driving past a car with two lovely looking women in the front seat leaving the premises [3].
“See Ryan, you could marry one of them. There’s plenty of eligible women around here. And then she could drive you to work instead of me. Seriously Ryan, at your age. I’ll take the one who’s not driving, ahaha.”
Ogling the woman in the passenger seat, your brother nearly crashes the car into the central barrier but violently readjusts at the last second.
“Oh man. I bet she wears space pants…”
Morale Drop! Incessant mild and hurtful criticism!
Failure Rating: 10.
Morale: -2.
… … … …
Kathryn was riding home with her sister, chatting excitedly-location, location, location!-, when she saw Satoshi riding past on his bike. Hmm... he was dependable, wasn't he? Not such a jerk, like the rest of them. Given that was fleeing GenCo. as well, he must have got the same idea as she did.
She told her to stop the car, and she leaned out and handed him her number on a scrap of paper.
"Hey, me and my sister are going into the kosher sandwich business Satoshi. I could use a dependable guy like you. Call me!"
Not waiting for a response, the sisters drive off laughing.
Riding away into the sunset, Satoshi smiles.
lol i haz date, he thinks to himself.
With the space pants girl...