Monday: 2.39pmLets do some easy research stuff. Like how cute kittens are or something.
Heading back to your desk, you decide to pick up on a research project you’ve been trying to get done for some time – a study into how cute kittens are or something. You’re hoping it might be your first publication.
You get a good section of it drafted and spend a fair while looking at comparisons of cute kittens [5] when the lab lead researcher drops by to ask you to go fetch their delivery of dry ice from stores on the ground floor. While she’s there, you ask Jan, the lab lead researcher, to look over the first drafted section. She thinks it’s awesome and tells you she’d be happy to give it a read through when you’ve finished – also, what are you doing this evening? Perhaps you’d like to have a coffee at her apartment and see how cute
her kittens are.
You’re not sure if that’s a euphemism or not.
Morale Boost! Loads of cute kittens!
Morale Boost! She liked your kittens!
Success! Completed some research!
Success! She liked your research!
Task Assigned! Collect dry ice from stores!
Failure Rating: 9.
Morale: -1.
THEY'RE ALL ELVES! CUT APART THE ELVES!
As you stand triumphant above the crawling deputy HR manager, holding the still running chainsaw above your head like a war trophy, you fail to notice a brave security guard creep up behind you [2]. As you run forward to cut apart the howling horde of elves before you, you are suddenly rugby tackled from behind! The chainsaw slips from your grasp! It flies through the air and spins through the crowd of elvenfolk, leaving a trail of blood, natural hemp clothing and screams, before coming to a still-running halt on the ground.
As you [2] wrestle ineffectively with the security guard [3], who seems mostly to be trying to pin you down with the weight of his stomach, you notice with satisfaction that the woman who was trying to call the police seems to have stopped trying to call the police. She runs away screaming and clutching at the bloody stump on her arm!
Morale Boost! Powder Woodcutter: Elfslayer!
Morale Drop! A fat elf is pinning you to the ground!
Fail! Severely injured a dozen colleagues!
Failure Rating: 21.
Morale: 4.
Regain consciousness, hit the emergency call, and stop the bleeding.
Drifting in your dream world of luxurious fillets of beef, you notice an enormous cigar hiding behind a tree. He’s trying to smoke you! You start running away, but he follows at a distance, and then you trip, falling thousands of feet into a vast glass of ruby red wine. Or is the glass the size a glass should be? You swim through the murky depths, chasing after a black mouse who appears to be swimming away at great speed, looking back over his shoulder at you in a slight panic. Just as you seem sure to catch it a ceiling materialises over the glass of wine and you find yourself in a metallic box, suspended hundreds of miles above the ground. Your head hurts a little [2].
Morale Boost! Mmm beef!
Morale Drop! Hundreds of miles above the ground!
Fail! Haven’t fixed the damn mouse yet!
Fail! Unconscious on the job!
Task Assigned! Fix the damn mouse!
Failure Rating: 22.
Morale: 12.
Warning! Your Morale is so high that you are beginning to look suspiciously happy! Or would if you were not unconscious! Remember folks, we are here to work, not to have fun! Or to sleep!Seeing the new guy walking in Tracy realizes she needs to get rid of any witnesses. She violently launches herself at him, baseball bat in hand, intent on getting rid of him. Permanently.
As the new guy walks past you have a sudden moment of clarity – you’ll be sacked if there’s any witnesses to your brutal slaying of that awful lardbag Gloria. She deserved it. You don’t. You leap over the reception desk and sprint across reception and down the corridor after him with the baseball bat held above your head. You can’t see him and think he’s managed to get away but then he steps out of the boss’s secretary’s office [Initiative=6vs5]. Just as you’re about to swing [1], he turns and spots you coming, diving out of the way – your savage swing down upon where his head was meant to be misses! The murderous blow throws you off balance and your furious sprinting momentum carries you forward, sliding across the buffed floor tiles until you crash to a halt against the wall.
You barely get through moaning the word ouch before your lose consciousness.
Morale Drop! Smashed your head in!
Fail! Fighting on GenCorp premises!
Fail! Haven’t got that report typed up yet!
Fail! Left reception unmanned!
Task Assigned! Type up the report!
Task Assigned! Assist reception!
Failure Rating: 28.
Morale: 1.
WARNING! Your failure level indicates a level of performance that is NOT ACCEPTABLE at a successful company such as GenCorp. Unless it improves IMMEDIATELY you will be FIRED when the chance arises. You are NOT IMPORTANT enough to be fired by BRUCE HALFORD HIMSELF although he MAY perform a citizen’s arrest if he gets the chance. Your Morale is NEGATIVELY affected by your impending unemployment.It took Danny a moment to even understand what the secretary was saying. He was a bit out of it, I mean he was still hungover, and the bodies, police presence and finally the murderous chick in reception hadn't exactly been the most reassuring welcome to his new workplace. ...Was she following him?!
"Uh, I'm sorry, I was just sick, you know, bleeding out the eyes and stuff and I tried to like, get here anyway, but then I was kidnapped, you know, by drug lords, with guns and all, the Columbian type, and-- Wait, what? I'm not fired? Oh, uh, okay. So do I uh, have a desk, or something? A computer?" He rubbed at his temples and tried to focus. Surely this job couldn't be that bad... Hopefully his co-workers had some sanity remaining. He'd expected to feel weird working in an office, but not this!
Danny will ask and try to find his way to his workstation, keeping a wary eye out for any terrorists, failed genetic experiments or bloodthirsty co-workers.
If any of the above do happen to attack him, he will most likely dive for cover behind the nearest desk/filing cabinet and pelt them with stationery.
As you leave the secretary, after she quickly informs you of your desk and task, you notice the sound of frantic footsteps behind you and turn to see a crazy looking skinny woman bearing down on you with a baseball bat, seemingly ready to strike!
You jump out of the way, diving for cover behind the nearest filing cabinet, but you slip as you leave the ground and you jump straight into the corner of it [1]! Instead of grabbing the nearest letter opener and stabbing the crazy woman in the eyes with it you knock yourself out! Blood pours from your face!
BOSSCHECK!Just at that moment the boss walks in.
“Ah, Danny. I thought you were meant to come i- Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing down there? Get the hell off the floor and get back to work boy! You’re meant to be writing up these minutes for me, and fast.”
He hauls you to your feet without paying any attention to the fact that you are unconscious and bleeding, and drags you to your desk, manhandling you onto your seat and smacking your head against your monitor for good measure.
“If I see you sleeping on the job again I’m gonna goddamn fire your stinking ass son. And when did it become appropriate to come to work with vomit on your shoes? What the hell is it with everyone and vomit today? Huh? NOW GET THAT DAMN WORK DONE.”
BOSSCHECK FAILEDMorale Drop! Sick on your shoes!
Morale Drop! Boss smacked your head against your monitor!
Morale Drop! Didn’t get a chance to explain yourself!
Fail! Because you’re unconscious!
Fail! Sleeping on the job!
Failure Rating: 14.
Morale: -6.
Task Assigned! Minute a teleconference recording!
Glare at the sidewalk so intense so as to make into a moving sidewalk.
Channeling your anger as hard as you can, you try to make the sidewalk move! You glare more intensely than the sun, and you’re pretty sure the pretty paramedic is impressed; aroused, even. You smell scrambled eggs for some reason and glare even harder: you barely understand the paramedic when she speaks with a concerned look [1+1=1!].
“Hey, mister? I think you’re having a stroke! Your face isn’t right, we need to get you to hospital immediately!”
The next thing you know you come round in the back of the ambulance speeding to GenVille General Hospital. The pretty paramedic leans over you.
“Hey, you’ve come round. You were pretty lucky there you know – if I hadn’t given you some intense mouth-to-mouth back then I think you might have ended up in a wheelchair! We just need to get you to hospital for some routine tests, but I think you’re gonna be ok. You know, you should pay attention to your health, it’s pretty unusual to have a stroke at your age, even a minor one…”
Morale Drop! Just had a stroke!
Morale Boost! Just
survived a stroke! ‘Hardcore’!
Morale Boost! Intense mouth-to-mouth from a pretty lady!
Morale Drop! While you were unconscious!
Fail! Even later for work!
Failure Rating: 14.
Morale: -3.
Try to man up and confront brother, end up failing and crying non-stop.
Having suffered years of this kind of mild yet hurtful abuse at the hands of your incredibly successful brother, you decide it’s about time you man up and confront him, hard.
“Look, you might be my younger brother and everything, but you should know you have no right to keep talking t…”
“Your younger brother! Pff! I’m goddamn ashamed to hear you call me your brother, you’ve never been an older brother to me, you’re a goddamn disgrace of a failure and I’m pretty sure mum and dad adopted you anyhow. Why don’t you get outta the car and go off and do your goddamn secretary thing you fatarsed ladyboy! Don’t ever call me for a lift again jerkface!”
That didn’t go so well [2]. He swings the car round hard and fast and winds the window down before burning off.
“Why don’t you phone mum and dad this evening and ask them about it, huh? Your real mum and dad probably sucked as hard as you do, dickwad!”
As his tires screech away and you cough on his exhaust fumes, you start crying in the GenCorp main driveway.
Suddenly the boss appears, walking down the driveway towards you.
“Hey, Lovechild, you sniveling buttmunch, I need you to do something, it seems the janitor’s decided to jack it in so I need you to go unblock the overflowing toilet in Toilet Block H90 before it gets any worse in there. Go find a mop or something in the Janitorial Supply Cupboard and get to work.”
He walks off but turns round after walking only a few metres.
“And quit goddamn crying, what are you, a man? Or a goddamn hippy?”
Morale Drop! More hurtful criticism!
Morale Drop! Are they your real mum and dad? Could it be true? After all these years?
Morale Drop! You didn’t sign up to clean toilets! Suppose someone’s got to do it.
Task Assigned Unblock the overflowing toilet in Toilet Block H90!
Failure Rating: 10.
Morale: -6.
Author
Topic: Roll to Work at GenCorp! Tuesday: The End: A New CEO. (Read 64980 times)