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No More Coffee [PG]


Dragon Warrior
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[center][img]http://img50.imageshack.us/img50/8725/nomorecoffeepb0.jpg[/img]

[font=trebuchet MS][u][URL=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=54625]PROFILES[/URL][/u] - [u][URL=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=54626]UNDERGROUND[/URL][/u][/font]

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[size=1][b]6:40 am[/b]

Myers woke up like any other morning, but today was different. Today was his first time as an intern. He was ready to start fresh and nothing was going to stop him. "Nothing's going to stop me," he said out loud to himself in confidence just before he fell out of bed to the floor. "Nothing's going to stop me," he repeated from under the blanket pile on the floor. Only moments later did he trip and fall into a shelf, knocking several books onto himself. "Nothing's going to stop me," he continued chanting.

Several more accidents occurred on the way to Mike's room, who was his roommate. Mike was still asleep in bed. It was not his thing to wake up early. In fact, a lot of the time Mike was different than Myers. The two still got along famously somehow. Scientists have yet to figure out why.

"Wake up!" Myers shouted, jumping up and down on Mike's bed. Mike scrambled under his blankets, covering his face and whining.

"Stop it. Cut it out." He pushed Myers on the floor, who hit a nightstand and broke a lamp. Seconds later, he appeared on his feet just fine.

"It's time to wake up," Myers smiled.

"Already?"

"Yeah, sleepy head. First day at work. We have to be there at 8:00 am." Myers pointed at an invisible watch on his arm.

"But..." Mike stopped himself when he noticed Myers wearing a certain piece of clothing. "Are those footy pajamas?"

Myers looked down at his sleeping wear, which were, in fact, footy pajamas. "Yeah? And?"

Mike shook his head. "Nothing. I'll just have nightmares now, that's all. Let's go." The two headed out to the kitchen area of the apartment where they poured cereal into bowls and sat down at a small round table to feast. Mike read the newspaper while Myers admired the back of the box.

"Is Count Chocula really a vampire?"

"What?" Mike asked, never taking his eyes off the paper.

"He eats chocolate," Myers protested. "That doesn't make him a vampire."

"And sucking blood for succulence is what makes them a vampire?"

"Duh."

"Whatever, dude," Mike says, getting up to put his bowl in the sink. "Vampires suck anyways."

"I'll suck you!" Myers shouted. Mike stopped in his tracks. The room became silent. After moments of eerie silence, only then did Myers see the flaw in his insult. Mike stared at Myers and Myers stared back. It was awkward.

Time passed and it was almost time for Mike and Myers to leave. Myers was in the shower with his rubber ducky while Mike had to make a phone call to someone real quick.[/size]
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[color=darkred][size=1]



Mike hung the cordless phone up and walked into the bathroom hallway with it in his hand as Myers stepped out of the shower, wearing nothing more than a flowery shower cap and a towel. Mike stood back for a moment, confused by the scene, and continued into the bathroom. He handed Myers the phone, saying in a mild tone, [b] ?Your mom says hey.?[/b]

Myers looked to the phone and then Mike with confusion. [b] ?Really??[/b]

Mike laughed as he began styling his hair in the foggy mirror. [b] ?Hah. Yeah. She finally got her period.?[/b] Mike giggled snarkily. [b] ?That was a close call.?[/b]

For a moment, Myers simply looked at Mike confused, his brain not registering the comment. He shrugged and began walking down the hallway to hang up the phone. Mike looked out the corner of his eyes with a sharp smirk. He sighed to himself. Suddenly, he heard Myers? voice yell from across the apartment. [b] ?Hey! Screw you, man!?[/b]

Mike shook his head and rinsed his hands. [b] ?Finally...?[/b] he whispered to himself.

Moments later, Myers and Mike had began to leave the house, dodging dirty laundry and Myers? scattered action figures. Myers still muttered to himself his little mantra. [b] ?Nothing is going to stop me, nothing is going to stop me, nothing....?[/b] he whispered in a barely audible tone.

[b] ?You say you gotta piss??[/b] Mike asked in question.

[b] ?Nothing is going to stop me today, Mike!?[/b] Myers yelled in triumph, placing his hand over Mike?s shoulder and pointing out of a window. [b] ?From this day on! The world is ours!?[/b]

Mike was speechless for a moment, then pointed with his thumb behind him. [b] ?The john?s that way, homie... did you forget again??[/b]

[b] ?No silly! I remembered this time! I mean, today marks a new era for us. Today is the day that we make it in the cut throat business world.?[/b] Myers proclaimed excitedly.

[b] ?You mean that place where we gotta get everyone?s coffee and crap??[/b] Mike said drably.

Myers hung his head and sighed out. [b] ?Yeah...?[/b] he quickly rose his head up again and resumed his pointing pose, hand over Mike?s shoulder. [b] ?Let?s be off!?[/b] Turning the door knob slightly and kicking the door open, he began jogging down the stare case.

Mike tilted his head to the side slightly and began shaking it. [b] ?Eh... I better go make sure he doesn?t trip over a fire hydrant...?[/b] He chased after Myers, hopping down stares after his friend. Mike was actually quite excited about the new day and the new job. He wondered about the possibilities that would arise from the new job.

Car keys in hand, Mike opened up the complex door shortly after he saw Myer?s exit. Stepping out, he saw Myers holding his knee and breathing in and out desperately trying to relieve what appeared to be a scraped knee, whilst he sat beside a fire hydrant. [b] ?It happened again!?[/b] Myers cried out.

Mike looked down, shrugged his shoulder, and breathed a deep sigh. He hoped Myers would survive the day.[/color][/size]
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[size=1][color=royalblue]Having just woken up twenty minutes ago, it was obvious that Ginger wasn't ready for the day. She yawned immensely, her eyes watering, which splattered when the bus jerked to a stop. The only thing that was possibly keeping her awake was the music player in her pocket, its corresponding headphones shelling out some ironically themed music.

[i]"Schadenfreude...people taking pleasure in your pain. Haha!"
"Schadenfreude, huh? Wha-what's this, some kinda nazi word?"
"Yeap. It's German for 'happiness at the misfortune of others'."
"'Happiness at the misfortune of others'...that IS German!"[/i]

"Damn you puppets. And you Gary Coleman too. Don't you dare take pleasure in my pain! For I will castrate you with a plastic spork!"

Had people not been paying attention to an idiot whom had tripped over a fire hydrant, she would've most certainly been kicked off the bus. Or something.

"I keep telling you to watch what's in front of you!" the idiot's companion seethed.
"'I keep telling you' nuh nah nuh," the idiot quipped. "Your mom tells me to watch before I step."
"What's with all these 'your mom' jokes, huh? Not to mention yours was pretty bad."
"Hey, you started it!"
"You were dumb enough to continue, oh man-who-trips-over-fire-hydrants!"

The two continued bickering as the walked down the bus aisle and found seats. Ginger rolled her eyes.
"There was news that we'd be getting interns...those two better not be it." She unwrapped the blueberry muffin in hand and nearly ate the thing in two enormous bites. After gulping, coughing, and nearly choking, she sighed. "Then again...we could always use an idiot to liven things up around the office."

What a highly coincidental thing to say.[/color][/size]
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[size=1][color=#1874CD]Walking out of the shower, Quyen was ready for another day. She had already laid out her clothes for work and a pot of coffee was brewing. Although everything in her life seemed repetitive, Quyen didn?t mind. Of course, it wouldn?t matter if there had been a bit of spontaneity in her life but nevertheless, she has come to love her life as it is, even if others find it dull. It was to be accepted when working at an office in the city. Nothing ever really happened in the city and no one expects anything to happen, they live their lives the way it is and are somewhat content with it.

In the backseat of a taxi cab, Quyen was mindlessly tapping away on her laptop. She was sifting through e-mails, her bank account, and all other necessities which she deemed important. Quyen was that type of girl: all work and no play. She had been this way since coming to America. With pain in her neck, Quyen cracked her neck from left to right and looked out the window, only to find someone sitting next to a fire hydrant with his friend standing over him with crossed arms.

Without helping it, Quyen began to laugh to herself. It caused the driver to look in his rear view mirror and ask, [B]?Laughing at the boys outside??[/B] She shook her head but in truth, it was what she was laughing at. [B]?Don?t worry ?bout it. Boys like them always do stupid things. Hell, I?d laugh once or twice too.?[/B]

In the back of her mind, she was thinking the exact same thing. It would be nice to laugh once or twice at the office too, maybe even liven up the place.[/size][/color]
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[size=1]Do do do do do do do... do do do, do do do do, do do do do do do do do do do... do do do, do do do do, do do do do do do do do do do...

The sharp, electronic noise pulsed heavily in Vincent's ears. He rolled over on one side to evade the cacophonous horror but to no avail. Faint sunlight crept slowly down the bookcase at the side of the bed, looming like a guillotine threatening to cleave his now sleepless sleep clean in two. The young comic/technical writer rolled over at the last second, tumbling off of the bed in a heap of blankets and pillows.

"When I bought that stupid alarm clock," Vincent noted to himself, "I never figured that the [i]Super Mario Bros.[/i] theme could be so annoying."

After getting up and stretching a bit, Vincent opened the blinds and braced himself as the awesome glory of God's earthly mornings poured into the room, warm and refreshing as always. He shut the blinds immediately, and instead took the opportunity to spread one blind open very slightly, peeking out at the noise and bustle of the city with one restless eye as if he were in the middle of a war zone. Cars were moving, people were walking and talking; nothing was different, though Vincent knew that something was going on, somewhere. [i]It's too bad that I don't have any time to see for myself[/i], Vincent thought.

The [i]Super Mario Bros.[/i] alarm continued blaring away in the corner of the room. Vincent crossed over, stepping deftly amongst the many stacks of books and CDs scattered upon the floor, and shut the clock up with a tap on the hat. All was well in the world.

Following a quick shower, and ready to take on another day, Vincent thrust open his closet with a flourish. Hanging inside in neat rows were several outfits that had been freshly ironed a few days prior. Each individual ensemble stood out brilliantly amidst the others in a dazzling display of uniformity.

"Which should I wear today?" Vincent pondered to himself. "The one on the left is looking particularly snazzy... but the second to the middle has always been my go-to-guy for the beginning of the week. Then again, I hear that we have new interns coming in, and the third to the left has always gotten people on my side..." Eventually he closed his eyes, picked a random set, and put it on, ready at last to head out the door.

However, just before he could leave, his stomach rumbled loudly. The intense noise cut through the morning dash like a hot chainsaw through butter. [i]Breakfast[/i], Vincent thought, so loudly that were his life a sitcom, the audience would have heard his cogitation loud and clear. [i]I forgot to eat breakfast! I guess that I don't really have much time though. I'll just grab a quick meal at the office or something.[/i]

Still, he hesitated. The cabinets called out to him longingly; he could smell faint traces of Boo Berry and orange juice. Vincent's hand hovered above the doorknob; his fingers shook faintly. He made an almost imperceptible movement towards the kitchen, and then surprised himself by pulling open the door and thrusting himself outside.

"Whew," Vincent said. "Glad I was able to avoid [i]that[/i] temptation! If I stopped to eat, I probably would have... missed the bus..." He ran downstairs as quickly as he could, but it was too late. The bus was pulling away by the time he got to the stop, leaving a mere puff of smoke in its wake.

"Damn. Guess I have no choice but to walk."

He half-heartedly hoped that there wouldn't be too many distractions on the way to the office.[/size]
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[size=1]The bus stop near the office was only a short walking distance away, so it didn't take Myers, Mike, and Ginger very long to get to the front doors. Though it did take them that whole time to realize they were all set on the same place. When Ginger saw Myers and Mike trailing behind her, she felt a lump in her throat and an ache in her heart. Then a rather uncomfortable migraine. [i]They're the interns,[/i] she thought to herself while grumbling aloud. She opened the door, turns to them, and smiled reluctantly. Myers flew through with a "thank you" while Mike stayed and held the door for Ginger. She smiled, this time not so forced, and walked into the building. Mike followed after.

The place seemed amazingly large to Myers and Mike, but was merely a familiar sight to Ginger, who went right for the elevator and up to her job. Mike and Myers stayed to admire things. Myers let out a sigh. "Wow, just like Hefner's mansion."

A well-dressed man walked by from out of an elevator and headed towards the front desk. On his way back towards the elevator, he spotted Myers and Mike and decided to approach. "Uh, you boys the interns?"

"Yes," Mike smiled. "We're Mike Sumerkalis and Myers Miller."

"Alexander Ivey," said the man, shaking both Myers and Mike's hands excitedly. "But call me Alex. Hey!" Mike and Myers jumped back from the sudden burst of energy from the man. "You guys want me to show you around the office?"

"Su-" Mike began, but was, of course, interrupted by Myers.

"Where are all the women?" Myers asked. He peered around Mike and Alex to see if he could spot any, but anyone who was around was a male. Myers began to freak out.

"Come with me and I'll show you where you'll work," Alex smiled. He started his way towards the elevator.

"What about the women?" Myers insisted. They were led to the elevator where there was also a lot of males. In fact, the elevator was very tightly packed and Myers was smashed against the door between two very manly men. "Awkward..." Myers said under his breath. He could've sworn one guy touched his rear. It [i]was[/i] awkward. When the doors of the elevator finally opened, several people flew to the floor in a large pile, Myers being on the bottom. "Mommy!"

Mike helped his friend out and Alex continued to show them the way. The floor they arrived on was a lot of offices and closed doors. It wasn't too thrilling for anyone, not even Alex, who appreciated his work a lot more than Mike and Myers probably ever would. Especially Myers, who was fixated on a painting of a nude woman on the wall. "Can they show that here?"

"C'mon!" Mike grabbed Myers.

"This isn't the floor, guys," Alex said from up ahead. "Sorry it seems like I'm leading you on a wild goosechase. I'm just grabbing some quick paperwork for myself." They arrived at a door close to the end of the hall where Alex knocked and slowly started to enter. When Mike and Myers tried to follow, Alex stopped them. "NO!" Mike and Myers were taken by surprise. Alex looked down. "I mean... no. Interns aren't allowed in." He then disappeared behind the wooden door. Myers and Mike looked at one another.

"I wonder what that was about?" Mike questioned out loud.

"Maybe he's got some evil lab in there with a monster."

Mike stared at Myers. "No more Count Chocula for you."

"Dude, that's not fair!" Alex reappeared again and closed the door.

"Okay, guys, let's go to our floor." He began walking away with strangely no paperwork in hand, though he said he went in to get some. Mike and Myers didn't question it and just followed. Mainly because Myers was protesting the banishment of his favorite breakfast cereal. They came to the elevator once more and Alex pushed the button. Moments later, the doors opened revealing close to twelve guys packed inside.

"Oh, hell, no!" Myers shouted. "Not that again. I'm not taking chances of getting groped in there again."

"C'mon, Myers, no one's going to grope you," Mike insisted.

"Easy for you to say. No one wants to grope your ugly ass." Mike gave Myers a look. "As for me, I'm a hot piece of meat fresh on the market. Who wouldn't want to sexually harrass this?"

Mike looked disgusted at Myers. "You're incredible."

"Who told you?"

"Just c'mon."

"Fine, but next time we take the stairs. This must be what Hell is like. But the guys are naked and hairy and oily and try to rub you down all the time saying, 'You feel tense, baby. Let me loosen you up.'"

"Shut up. No one's groping anyone." Myers finally got into the elevator after Mike and Alex and stood crowded against two big men once more. One of them looked down and smiled.

"Hey, baby," he said. Myers squeeled and the doors of the elevator closed.[/size]
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[COLOR=Navy][CENTER][I]Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnngggg![/I][/CENTER]

Sora groaned, eyes half opening as she rolled onto her stomach, reaching over the bed to the bedside table, flicking the switch on the back of the alarm clock to stop the infernal ringing that had interrupted her rest. She was a heavy sleeper, and thus required a loud alarm clock to wake her up in the mornings, and it so happened that the old fashioned alarm clocks were the loudest, with the twin bells on top and a hammer between them.

She ran a hand through her bedmused hair as she covered a yawn, reluctantly rolling from the warmth of the bed, making her bed before heading straight into the kitchen, putting on some coffee to brew.

Still half asleep, Sora walked to her stereo and turned it on, cranking up the volume until the music could be heard throughout the whole apartment. Lazily she made her way to the bathroom and started up a shower, quickly getting refreshed for the day. The hot shower did wonders and she felt much better, but still required her caffeine kick.

She did her hair quickly and dressed as she glanced at the time, it was almost 7:30. Sora examined herself in the mirror, satisfied at her business look, a slate grey feminine suit with faint white pinstripes, stylish grey heels and a brief case. She nodded and ran into the kitchen, pulling the pot from the machine, pouring some of it into a flask mug because she had to take it to go. She grabbed a large flask and put the rest of the brew into it to take it with her to work. Putting the flask in her briefcase, she picked up the mug and took a deep sip, releasing a satisfied "ah" as the warm liquid ran down her throat.

Glancing at the time again, Sora ran out of the apartment, hurriedly locking it and running to the elevators. She impatiently pushed the down button repeatedly, sipping from her coffee. There was a "ding" as the doors opened, admitting her. Riding down to the street she hurried down the sidewalk, watching for cars as she made her way to work for the day.[/COLOR]
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[size=1][color=royalblue]Once inside the elevator, Ginger broke out laughing.

"They gonna get hit with the mob of -" She was cut off in her vocal thoughts when the doors [i]binged[/i] open. A group of large men stood there, and the short female darted through an opening between two of them.

She waded her way down the hallway, making quick glances at posters and things of work progress. Outside of some cubicles, however, were sheets of computer paper for the Fantasy Football leagues.
Ginger jerked to a halt in front of one of the papers, which read, "Boobs! Now that I've got your attention, sign up!" She smacked a hand to her face while reaching into her messenger bag with the other hand and pulling out a pencil. With a flourish, she scribbled down a quick, 'Your Mom' sign-up before performing a walk-run down the hall.

In this neck of the woods, there was little activity going on in the early morning. ...Actually, there wasn't that much activity going on just yet in any place.

Passing what seemed like hundreds of cubicles and offices, Ginger stopped yet again to read something of more interest to her. It was a sheet of paper, posted outside Boris's office, addressed to her.

[i]"Ginger, you're running low on soda. Oh, and by the way, stop taking out my tea for your carbonated drinks.
Fact: Not everyone in the Netherlands hates soda. So stop probing the question. How did we get on that topic to begin with? Wasn't it about Coke Zero and Pepsi Max? Why is it you ask me these questions? Wait, it's because you took German in high school. That's right. Yeap.
Okay, well, I'm starting to ramble, so stock up or shut up."[/i]

"When he says 'running low'...I'll go out and get some later." She had much more important things to get to, like making the coffee for her floor. She crossed her fingers, hoping the machine wasn't broken. In a rush to leave this morning, the short one had barely managed to grab the muffin while she spat toothpaste into the collection of floor plants.

...Five minutes later...

"You...piece of..." With an angry rip of the soggy coffee filter, Ginger stormed out of the small corner niche and sulked to her cubicle. Angrily, she threw the chair out from the desk and collapsed into it, pounding her feet on the ground. The collection of soda cans in the bottom drawer rattled.

It seemed like today was going to be a day of lazing around.[/color][/size]
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[size=1]"I hate Mondays," Vincent sighed, walking just short of a sprint and looking down at his watch with a frown.

Droves of cars choked the streets; the buses were packed to the brim like locomotive sardine cans; and yet Vincent was forced to duck, twist, and dart through hordes of people on the sidewalk like Barry Sanders on his way to a touchdown. Evidently the people of the city conspired to walk about in such a way that Vincent would always be late for work, guaranteed.

He could see the office building off in the distance; it appeared to him like a desperate, heat-soaked mirage despite the relatively brisk early-morning weather. It was so very, very close. Vincent shoved his way through the crowd, propelling himself off of the shoulders of stuffy businessmen and jumping over dogs being walked by middle-aged women in loud, colorful sweatsuits. The urge to kick the smaller, more annoying dogs was immense, but it was quickly stifled.

At last Vincent slid out from the clutches of the great mass of bodies and came to a stop in front of the building. In front, a long line of people were holding the regular door open so that the person ahead of him or her could enter the air-conditioned cool of the office. An open, a thank you/you're welcome, and an enter - that's all the strange little ritual required of its participants.

"How bizarre," Vincent remarked. "I wonder why nobody just enters through the automatic door?" He strolled up to the automatic door; not a person in line even so much as peered in his direction. Vincent raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and continued on. The door slid open with a crisp, mechanical noise not unlike the doors on the USS Enterprise. However, after he gained entry, the door closed with surprising suddenness on Vincent's foot.

"What the hell?" Vincent said, tugging his foot gently.

"Now you see why we weren't using [i]that[/i] door," the latest person to walk in smirked at Vincent with a self-satisfied sniff. Vincent chuckled sarcastically at the man and then went back to pulling desperately on his leg; he fell on his ass after his other leg lost its footing and splayed wildly in the air.

"Somebody help me!" Vincent moaned. His pathetic plea echoed through the room all the way to the vast whiteness of the roof.

"You'll never get out doing that," another worker said, peering down at Vincent from above.

"Who are you?" Vincent asked.

"My name's Dave," the worker replied, striding down the 2nd floor stairs. "I'm a faceless worker drone!"

"How nice for you," Vincent said, grimacing. "Would you mind helping me out of this door?"

"No trouble at all," Dave said. He started walking towards the regular exit. "You see, the problem with the automatic doors in this place is that they don't open from the inside."

"Why is that?" Vincent asked, still yanking fretfully at his lowest appendage.

"Oh, you know machines," Dave replied, now yelling from outside, "they always like to rebel against their human lords and masters, the precious little scamps! These doors'll let you in, but they like to make it [i]real[/i] difficult for you."

"So, how do you [i]open[/i] them?"

"They like to trick you," Dave answered, "but the truth is that they're not very intelligent. The office tries to run things as cheaply and efficiently as possible, so we bought our automatic doors from the state prison after they decided to get new ones. And, well, the government is notoriously stingy when it comes to buying automatic doors. So many failed promises from our Senators... Anyway, what you have to do is get another person to approach the door from outside; the door's sensor will detect the motion and the door will open... viola! They never suspect teamwork!"

The door opened and Vincent's momentum drove him backwards, head over heels. When he stood up and looked around for Dave so that he could thank him, he saw that Dave's foot was stuck in the door.

"...Should I get you out of there, Dave?" Vincent asked.

"Don't worry about it. I didn't feel much like working today, and this'll give me a nice excuse to keep away from my cubicle."

"Er, okay then," Vincent said, suddenly longing for the times when [i]his[/i] foot was stuck in the door. "Well, thanks for getting my foot out of that door. Have fun down there; call me if you suddenly feel the need to saw off your foot."

"I will!" Dave said, waving goodbye. Vincent backed away a couple of steps, and then turned his body around toward the elevator, though he could not pry his head away from the sight of Dave laying down and waving at him with his foot caught in the door. [i]What a bizarre little man[/i], Vincent thought. He pressed the elevator button and waited. And waited. And waited some more until he tore his eyes from Dave and squinted at the elevator.

"What's taking it so long?" Vincent groused. As soon as the words left his mouth, the elevator opened with a pleasant electronic [i]ping[/i]. An assortment of large men carrying tiny suitcases and mumbling incoherently into receivers attached to their lapels exited in a single-file line. Vincent dared not ask them were they were going. After the last of them left, he stepped inside the elevator.

"Oh no, you don't!" Vincent snapped, pulling his left leg inside at the very last second, barely evading the taunting maw of the elevator as its doors closed slammed shut, the noise eerily amplified. Lights from above cascaded through the open vent at the top of the car, flashing shadowy bars upon Vincent; he stared ahead with a cold feeling in his stomach.

"Jesus, the doors must have it in for me today," Vincent said, wiping nervous sweat from his brow. He pressed the button for his floor; a second or two later, he thought better of it and pressed the button for the cafeteria's floor. His stomach growled appreciatively. The elevator ascended slowly, humming quietly. When it reached the correct floor, the car heaved to a stop, and Vincent grabbed the elevator's bar with one hand and the spot just above his heart with the other. After one last shudder, the doors opened and he dove outside.

"Next time I'm taking the stairs," Vincent said. After the final words of that sentence fell from his lips, Vincent could have sworn that he heard a groan emanate from somewhere in the hall; however, he could not see anyone around him, and so, with a shrug, he ventured into the cafeteria, where he picked up a bowl of cereal, toast, scrambled eggs, a couple of hash browns, a glass of orange juice, and the morning paper, the last of which he did not actually eat.

"God, finally," Vincent sighed, taking a big bite out of his toast. He unfurled the paper, but before he could read it he looked up and froze until he regained his bearings and covered his face with the paper.
"Crap, it's my boss!" He looked down at his watch once again. "I should be at my cubicle by now! If I'm caught being late [i]again[/i], then I'm screwed..." All around him, people went about their business, eating, talking, cavorting, and having fun, his boss included; Vincent shoved a few spoonfuls of Captain Crunch in his mouth, desperately attempting to think of the best plan to exorcise himself from this pit of festivity and frivolity and land safely back into the drab, dull confines of his listless, lifeless cubicle.

His job security depended on it.[/size]
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[size=1][color=royalblue]From the deep caverns came a fierce growl. It echoed throughout the walls, hitting the ears of all in range, stinging their brains and making them wince. Thunderous pounding came within a moment, and suddenly, the land was cast in death.

"Damn am I hungry..."

There were no footsteps in this area of the office, this corner of the prison. Ginger bolted up from her seat and edged to the cubicle's wall, placing her fingers up and over the top edge. She carefully hauled her short self up to see if there was any activity. As far as her eyesight went, there was nothing going on.
"I must really be hungry...I feel like I'm going to vomit."

The cubicle wall was starting to tip.

"Oh...shit."

With a [i]thunk[/i] and a crack, both wall and Ginger landed on the sunbaked floor and windowsill. She held on for dear life as the top snapped off from its concrete impact, her fingers scratched as they came down against the rough wall.

"Nobody better had seen that."

In a manner that had belonged to her since forever, Ginger stood up, brushed off some chips of cubicle wall and plaster, and straightened out her jacket.
"Besides, if anybody asks, I can blame it on the interns. Fire-hydrant boy seems likely to do this sort of thing anyways."
Because the wall had fallen right across a walking path, it was going to be impossible not to notice for, at most, an hour.
"But they're going to blame me...my bag's here."
Ginger shuffled backwards to her now-open cubicle, picked up her bag, and arranged everything to be the way it normally looked after she left. She punched the restart button on the computer before turning it off and heading towards the stairs.

"Food time."

On her way down, her stomach grumbled again, casting echoes in the solid concrete stairwell. She groaned.
"Stupid muffin did crap for my hunger." Ginger had ravenous hunger in the mornings, and was never really able to skip breakfast. She always alotted time in the morning to eat at home, but occassionally she slept in and had to make a quick break for the bus.

Upon entering the cafeteria, Ginger was smacked in the face by the ever-recongnizable smell of bacon, eggs, coffee, and Captain Crunch. It was a rather odd combination, but who cares, she was hungry.

After paying for a hearty meal of an egg sandwich, coffee, and cereal, Ginger looked wildly around the cafeteria for a spot to eat. During her searches, she noticed an extremely apprehensive-looking Vincent. He ate his cereal in jerky motions, his eyes off in the distance, appearing to look at the juice dispenser.

"Is it food poisoning again?" Ginger asked with a sigh, placing her tray in the spot acorss from him. He jumped.
"I'msorryIswearIdidn'tdoit - thedoorswereeatingmyfeetand - oh, it's just you."
"It's just me?" she sat down, her messenger bag still across her chest. "You should be graced and amazed by my sheer presence!"
"...And...why is that?"
"Nevermind, oh man-who-gets-his-feet-eaten-by-doors. Anyways, why are you staring the juice machine? It's full of whatever crap they try to pass off as Grade A."
Vincent rolled his eyes. "My boss is over there; eating, having a good time."
"And you're not?"
"I wouldn't really call this 'a good time'...sort of the furthest thing from it, really."

Ginger hardly paid attention as Vincent continued on about being late and nearly losing his job a few times before. She was more interested in the eggs themselves.

"You ever realized the eggs look like diced-up pieces of Spongebob?"
"...You even listening?"
"Hell no. But I mean -" She stuck a fork in one piece and held it up. The egg mass jiggled for a moment. "- That isn't normal for an egg."
"You should know better than to get the eggs. You get cereal."
"I [i]did[/i] get cereal, foot-man. But eggs are good for you."
"No no, eggs are only good for you when they come from a store from a farm, where they're actually laid by hens of organic status." Vincent leaned into the full comfort of the chair, what little there was, and folded his arms across his chest. "Through careful studying, I've deduced that the eggs here come from machines that contain chicken DNA. But through the cold metal comes loveless eggs. They therefore - hey, where are you going?"

Ginger stood up with her tray and proceeded to dump it in the nearby garbage can, placing the plastic tray on top. She turned looked at the bossman before glancing at Vincent.
"So...you gonna sit there until he moves?"
"What, you want to help?"
"I can disguise you. You wear the same crap everyday, so if they see you with something new -" She took off her messenger bag and handed it to him, "-Then they won't think it's you. Take off the tie and ka-pow! People have no idea who the hell you are."
"Don't you think people know my face?"
"No, not really."
Vincent groaned, stood up, dumped his tray, and accepted the bag before removing his red tie and stuffing it in a pocket.

"There, look! I can't even recongnize you!"
"Did you even recongnize me before?"
"Nope. Just by the clothes."
"Ugh."

The two walked to the stairwell, Vincent still tense, currently wishing he could see from the back of his head. But there came no reactions from bossman, assuming he was in the clear.

When the door closed with a metallic [i]thud[/i] behind them, Vincent handed Ginger back her bag.
"Sooo...thanks, Miss uh...Miss uh..um...I remember it, hang on..."
"Name of a state..."
"Don't ruin my fun! Uh...yeah! Miss Virginia. ...Haha. [i]C'mon Viriginia, don't let me wait[/i]."
Ginger growled, tearing the bag from his hand. "Ugh, that stupid song. Ginger! Call me [i]Ginger[/i], okay?!"
"Yeah yeah..."[/color][/size]
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[size=1]Alex had arrived extremely early, and had beat Security to the office. Upon arriving, he realized he was locked out and an hour early, but immediately opened his laptop and resumed work. Nearly finished with a project assigned a day ago and due in a week, he fervently typed, intent on finishing before everyone else had arrived.

?Are you gonna move or what?? He glanced up, and a tall Hispanic man loomed over him, jangling a set of keys, and looking rather intimidating.

?Oh, I?m sorry! One second?? he said quietly, shuffling out of his way, anxiously waiting for the doors to open.

On the elevator up to his floor, his bodily needs began to overwhelm his mind. No longer would they be ignored. He barely remembered what he had eaten, much less if or when he had. Finally the doors opened, revealing the deserted and dark office, completely silent and undisturbed. The sight gave him a strange sense of comfort.

He had finished his work, and set off to go meet the two new interns with a sense of overarching dread. The receptionist?s reaction wasn?t much more enthusiastic, either.

?Are you here to pick up the new interns??

?Unfortunately, yes.?

?What did you do to deserve that?? Alex?s eyes widened in fear in response.

?Well, may god have mercy on your soul. Here they come.?

Seconds later, two balls of hell burst into the door. He followed protocol, despite their fruitless search for ?bangin?? women. The tour came to a welcomed end as they returned to their office space, but Mike and Myers showed no signs of maturing.

?So Alex, how are the women here??

?Your cubicle is right over there, if you need anything, I?d be more than willing to help.? The persistent intern would not be thwarted by his evasion, and asked the question again.

?C?mon man, you got a crush or something??

?Yeah,? Myers chimed in, ?Anyone hot here??

?Office romance is a big no. Go back to work,? he defensively swiveled back to his computer. Mike and Myers accepted his retreat, only because their interest turned to the photocopier.

It was a while before anyone else arrived at the office, and if they did, they were preoccupied with eating or socializing. He hated when people made a mess of the office, eating cereal in cubicles, talking during work hours. Shoving his nose and thoughts back into the spreadsheet in front of him, he finished up the report and sent the memo to his boss.

He stood up victorious, beaming at the water dispenser with pride. He had finished the project by himself, a week before hand. Not only that, but this opened himself and his team up to other more challenging tasks this week. Once his head came down from the clouds of success, he saw that almost everyone was at work, including his boss. He gloated internally as his boss sat down to his computer and opened his memo.

In the meantime, he walked over to the water dispenser, desperate for some sort of sustenance. In route, he crossed paths with Quyen who was focused on a report of some sort or another. Perhaps it was insanity that made him speak up and talk, perhaps it was the sleep deprivation that was making his head spin, or perhaps it was that he was just dreaming.

?Hey, Quyen,? he started nervously. She walked past him before the greeting registered with her.

?Oh, hey Alex. I was just, well, what?s up?? He was halfway hoping she hadn?t heard him. His wish was thoroughly negated by her response, and further smothered by her eye contact.

?I just finished the report due next week,? he said, ?so we can focus on bigger things this week.? He finished the sentence confidently, glad that he had worked up the nerve to talk. She raised her eyebrow, and suppressed a laugh before speaking.

?Alex, that?s ridiculous. There?s a reason we were assigned a week to finish it.?

?Well, it?s only one night of sleep, no big deal,? he remarked. He despised how he sounded so passive, how he glanced around the room during the lulls in the conversation.

?I?ll get the next assignment from the boss then,? she said, slowly starting to walk away. ?But get some rest, you?re not a machine.?[/size]
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[size=1] [I]Bling.[/I] Boris stepped out of the elevator and walked over to his office. The note was still posted outside of his office, but it had moved a bit. He let out a sigh.

?Okay, Ginger has surely read it.? He took the note off the glass and entered his office, throwing the crumbled note in the trashcan in the corner. After that, he pressed on the power button of his computer while eating an apple with his other hand.

It had been a rather usual morning. He woke up a bit too late like he always does, didn?t eat his breakfast any faster ? even if he?d be too late for work ? and hopped on his bicycle. On the way here, he only barely missed one vehicle, though. A record. There had been a few people in the elevator been mumbling to each other about the new interns, but he wasn?t too bothered about it. Surely interns wouldn?t bother him at his office, right?

The screen of his computer blinked to the log in window. He filled in his password, hit the enter button and rose from his chair. There was hardly anything he had to do today. He finished all unfinished things of last week in the weekend, as he thought it?d be nice to have nothing to do for once.

? It is not.

What are you going to do in an office when you have nothing to do? Exactly, you go see if there?s someone you would talk to, or a new person you could compliment after which you let them fetch you something to eat or drink. Or both.

When he walked out of his office, he almost bumped into Quyen, who he apologized to before walking on. In the corner of his eye, he spotted Alex. The fellow had opened his mouth to reply to something Quyen had apparently just said, but he couldn?t seem to finish the sentence. With a nod in his direction, Boris walked in the other direction, glancing over the cubicles to see if he could find someone he knew at least a bit.

He was just at Ginger?s cubicle when he tripped over something and smacked on the ground. There was a cubicle wall lying on the floor. ?? Typical.? Boris figured he [I]could[/I] call someone to clean this up, but it would happen soon enough. Ginger was, of course, nowhere to be found although her wall was on the ground.

?Oh well, let?s just go see if I have something to do on my computer?? He sighed, and started to walk back to his office.[/size]
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[B]OOC:[/B] Gah! I was working on a post when my bro had to use my comp and he turned it off!
BTW, I didn't mention it in my sign up but Sora's a perfectionist, so much that it's almost obsessive compulsive.

[COLOR=Navy]Sora tapped her heeled foot impatiently as she stood around on the ground floor, waiting for the elevator, with a flood of people chattering around her. Her eyes briefly glanced at them, a look of distaste in her eyes. They looked rugged; with half mused hair, wrinkled clothes, and askewed accessories, such as ties.

[I][B]"They look like they just rolled out of bed."[/B][/I] she thought to herself, rolling her eyes.

One might argue that her herself had just rolled out of bed too, but her reasoning was that at least [i]she[/i] was dressed professionally. There was a light 'ping' as the lift finally arrived. Sora jumped into the metal box quickly, putting herself in the spot in front of the buttons. Everyone else flooded in, just fitting everyone, which meant the elevator was quite squishy. Sora pressed the number of her floor, watching the ring of light appear around it before there was a chorus of people shouting out the floors they wished to get to. She sighed, pressing each obediently with a well manicured finger. The thing at last took off, rising upward steadily.

Sora rolled her eyes, hitting a guy that was trying to get closer to her than was necessary. Tucking her briefcase under her arm, she lifted the flask mug of coffee to her lips, taking a deep draught, satisfied as the warm liquid ran down her throat. By the time it got to her floor there were only a few people left. She alighted on the level, glancing at her watch as she went to her cubicle, setting down the mug and briefcase.

Covering a slight yawn with her left hand, she typed deftly with her right, logging onto her computer, pulling sheets from the case and setting them in neat piles on her desk. She lifted the mug to her lips and was about to take a sip when someone poked their head around her wall.

[B]"Need anything, Boris?"[/B] she asked, raising an eyebrow to him as she sipped.

[B]"Haha, nope, just seeing if you were still taking your morning coffee hit as usual."[/B] he grinned.

Sora glared at him, turning to her computer as he asked if she brought her usual flask iof extra coffee to keep her going through the day. He said a cheerful goodbye and headed off, presumably back to his work station.

She turned on her laptop, which had been in the briefcase, and opened the document that held her report for the assignment she was set. It was half done, and would be done in no time since the rest of it was a breeze, information coming straight from sources from that point on. Sora sent it to her work computer, re-reading it for any mistakes. As she assumed, there were none, because she did everything perfectly.

A young woman with olive skin came into her cubicle, Sora swivelled to face her.

"Sora, I think there's something wrong with my computer, can you take a look quickly? Um, if you're not busy." she added hurriedly.

[B]"Sure Kuri."[/B] she got up with a sigh, following the other woman to her cubicle.

Sora was known on the floor, and others as excelling with technology since she'd gotten a degree with computing and all things to do with them. She played with the computer a little, trying to find out what was wrong with it when a pop-up message appeared, she tried to get rid of it but kept coming back. She frowned, informing Kuri she had contracted a virus, fixing it in no time with the use of her handy anti-virus checker which screened the hard drive and got rid of the virus' source.

Sora returned to her cubicle, flopping into the chair, turning back to the comforting glow of her monitor.[/COLOR]
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[font=arial][size=1]OOC: My deepest apologies for being so late with this post. I suddenly got hit with about half of my friendbase going off to college and having to go around, visiting, and saying goodbye to them all. I'm taking a break from writing college application essays and getting ready for the new school year to finish this post. XD
-----------------------------------------------

"Ahhh... [i]shit![/i]"

The words echoed around Gary's room and bounced back into him with thud of realization. He overslept his alarm. [i]Again.[/i] This time was real bad, [i]two hours[/i]. He was supposed to be out of the house thirty minutes ago. Instead of rushing around like a madman, forgetting to shampoo his hair and neglecting breakfast, he opted to just take it easy, knowing that this could very well be his last moment as an employed man. What other company would possibly hire him?

When he decided he was ready, he found himself at the entrance of the office building. "Nah," he said, "I need a drink." Fortunately, there was an Irish pub across the street. The aroma of alcohol in the opened the door for him invitingly and he accepted. He quickly ordered and polished off a bottle of Jack Daniels, and another, and another, before finding his way back to the office building. He was now [i]several[/i] hours late for work.

Events blur to his boss's face, furious, screaming something he couldn't hear over his own thoughts. He clocked in and took the elevator up. He became aware that he was in a chair, black, leather, the whir of his own computer scared him for a moment then he noticed the note on his desk, he couldn't see straight enough to read it. He found the closest person walking past and approached them.

"He-hey... [i]Boris[/i]... can you read this to me?"

"Hey there... Gary, dang, you look awful."

"Bad day. Go ahead, tell me what I have to do today."

"Check your email, whoever wrote the note sent you a file that you need to use for a new logo."

"Thanks."

He took a moment to check his email, skipping over the penis enlargement ads, vioxx, viagra, oxy contin, there it is: [b]RE: Logo Design[/b]. [i]Click.[/i]

"Boris, good friend, I'm going to need your eyes again."[/size][/font]
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[size=1][color=#1874CD][B]?I?ll get the next assignment from the boss then,?[/B] she said, slowly starting to walk away. [B]?But get some rest, you?re not a machine.?[/B] With a smile, Quyen went back to reviewing the report she had in her hand, it seemed as though nothing came out right: the calculations were a bit off and on top of that, everything within the report seemed a bit confusing.

Exasperated, Quyen flipped all of the pages back over and walked on, nearly running into Boris- one of her co-workers. He apologized quickly before walking off; she gave him a quick smile and walked away from the point of impact. Quyen slowed her pace down a bit and took small breathers on the way before passing by the elevator doors, which flooded out workers from its inner corridor. She gave small greetings to the people whom she passed by as she walked towards the office café and looked everyone over, as she always did, finding two young figures amongst the crowd of older workers.

Quyen smirked to herself and walked on, hearing a small yelp as she did. From the way it sounded, it came from one of the younger people- interns, as she presumed- and it would?ve been the one with the excited posture and eyes, while the calmer of the two was pulling him away. Quyen had a gift for knowing what happened even when she wasn?t looking. All she had to do was listen and process it through her mind before registering it as an event.

Finally she came to the café and placed the report on the table as she opened the lid of her coffee mug and added more coffee and more cream, all the while grabbing a poppy seed muffin from the refrigerator. With a content smile, Quyen grabbed her mug and slipped her report underneath her arm. Once at her cubicle, she leaned back in her chair and relaxed for a few moments. She had told Alex to rest a bit but never realized the tiresome work she had to endure at the same time.

Closing her eyes, Quyen rested a bit but a soft whisper began to wake her up.[/size][/color]
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[indent][size=1]"I'm telling you, man," Myers said to Mike as they seated themselves in the café, "Folgers is shit."

"No way," Mike disagreed. "Best part of waking up."

"That slogan's so overdone." Mike shook his head and stirred his coffee. Myers' eyes scanned the room and he smiled devilishly. "Man, this place [i]is[/i] loaded with babes."

"What?" Mike looked up.

Myers' eyes landed on Quyen as she walked away from the counter to the condiments section to add the appropriates to her drink. "I think we'll like it here."

Suddenly a crippled old man came wobbling up to their table, shaking uncontrollably from old age. "Haha, bitches!" A mop was in his hand and he was donned in a large blue jumpsuit. It was obvious he was an age-old janitor.

"Who the hell are you?" Mike asked surprised.

"Name's Jenkins and I'm a janitor here." The old man tipped his hat.

"Why'd you shout 'bitches' at us?" Myers felt almost frightened.

"I know why you boys are here. Believe it or not, the best females in the town work in this office building. And if not, some of the best come in here." Myers and Michael looked at each other before Jenkins gripped Myers around the shoulders with a wrinkly arm. "Yessir, this place is a babefest. You can get lucky here."

Myers eyed the old janitor. "Sir, you're starting to freak us out."

"Haha," chuckled Jenkins. "I can't even get started on how many fine bitches I've had here."

"Ooookay," Mike said, turning away.

"Trust me on that. The gettin's good here."

"Oh, c'mon, sir," Myers shouted, removing Jenkin's arm from around him. "I'm eating."

Jenkins laughed and winked, which caused Myers and Mike to think he was coming onto them. "Remember what I said," he warned, backing up into a trash can. "Remember the fine ass bitches." Then he was gone.

Myers and Mike shuddered. "Ugh, there goes my sex drive," Mike mumbled.

"Well, that was the creepiest thing I've ever seen," Myers said, indulging in his coffee.[/indent][/size]
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[size=1][color=royalblue]Ginger and Vincent parted ways on their floor, going down opposite paths. After a minute of walking, Ginger?s three-walled-cubicle was again seen. People walking either tripped on the fallen wall, raised eyebrows, or screeched to a halt. All had one thing in common though ? they?d look up and stare at the woman, who just stood there, shrugging.

With a look off indifference, Ginger sat down at her desk, turned on her computer, and picked up the phone receiver next to the desk. She dialed the number for the reception desk.

?Hello ??
?Yes Miss Carrigan, it?s you. What do you need this time??
Ginger laughed nervously. ?Oh c?mon now Nancy! Anyways, the left wall of my cubicle fell over, and the top of it broke off.?
??What??
?My cubicle wall ??
?I heard, it?s called sarcasm. Alright, well, I?ll get maintenance on it, though I wouldn?t expect anything to be fixed until you come in tomorrow morning.?
?Ugh?Fine, whatever. Thank you Nancy.?
?And don?t call me by my fist na ??

Ginger dropped the receiver, its plastic casing clattering loudly on the base. She sighed and looked at the clock on her computer?s screen. Not nearly enough time had passed?in fact, barely at all.
?Hmmm?? She proceeded to marathon through folders and documents, checking through articles and graphics, nodding at each one. Everything was in order for the project she was set to present at the end of the week.
Stifling a yawn, Ginger leaned back in the chair, hanging her neck over the back. Several people passed by in the five minutes she remained this way, each giving her odd looks before staring at the fallen cubicle wall.

??I?m gonna go see Boris.?

As she walked to his office, Ginger couldn?t help but recall something Alex had once managed to say. [i]?Office romances never work, Miss Carrigan??[/i] He had been so bold to make the comment when a group of workers had taken a break and were talking about romance gossip. Of course, after the comment, he hurriedly left in hushed silence.

Upon arriving at his office, she noticed the door was ajar, the note from before taken down. She knocked before opening the door.

?Hey Boris.
?Good morning, my woman-friend.?
?Agh, shut it with the woman-friend crap?you know why I?m here.?
?Uh?toe ??
?[b]No[/b], not toe rape. Sheesh.? Ginger smacked a hand to her forehead. ?I want a soda. The coffee machine?s busted up here.?
?You try the cafeteria??
?They insist on that Folgers crap.?
?What do you like??
?Chock Full of Nuts. It?s a coffee brand based in New York City?.extremely nummy. You?ve had it, haven?t you? Oh wait, no, you don?t drink coffee.?
?No, for I have my beloved tea!?

Ginger rolled her eyes, opening the door to the mini fridge and taking out a can of Diet Coke with Lime. She cracked it open and took a swig. ?Gawd, I can?t believe I?m having it this early in the morning??
Boris stood up and re-opened the mini fridge, taking out a bottle of iced tea. He sat on a clear section of his desk while she leaned against the door, closing it.

?You getting taller?? he asked her randomly, sipping from his bottle.
She gritted her teeth. ?No, I?m not?I?m eternally 5?4?. Or?in centimeters?165-and-a-half centimeters tall.?
?I?m 18 ?? Boris was cut off in mid-eighty.
?I [i]know[/i]. Shut [i]up[/i].? Ginger clenched her hand, crumpling the soda can slightly.
?Why are you as short as you are??
?I got my mom?s genes over my dad?s. At least he?s six feet tall.?
?What about your siblings??
?My oldest brother also got my mom?s genes, but he topped out at around 5?7?. My other brother?s adopted, and he?s six feet as well.? She groaned. ?I hate being a midget.?
?Aw, c?mon, you?re not a midget. You?re tall to meeee.? He grinned.
She looked up. ??Thanks.?

There came a knock on the door. Ginger rolled to a wall next to the door as it opened, revealing, in all his glory, Alex.
?Good morning Mister Willems. I?ve got the report ? oh. Hello Miss Carrigan.? Alex made a shifty glance between the two.
?HELLO Mister Ivey,? Boris greeted loudly, clapping him on the shoulder. ?What have you for me this fine day??
?O-oh?Uh?It?s those pages you wanted.?
?Why thank you Ivey, I?ll take those now.? Boris spoke in a rather choppy manner as he plastered a grin to his face. He turned to Ginger. ?Miss Carrigan, I?m glad to hear you?re making progress on your project.? He nodded.

With that, a slightly confused Alex and a soda-happy Ginger left Boris?s office.[/color][/size]
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[color=darkred][size=1]

Gary hung his head out from the side of his cubicle and into the hallway, "Boris!" He called out. When no response came, he brought his voice?s volume up obnoxiously. "Boris!" he repeated. No one came to his aid. He began whining. "Borrriisss... I need heeelppp..." Meanwhile, Myers and Mike came down the hallway towards him. He studied them with slight difficulty, then looked back to his computer screen, reading the varied list of emails he had. He looked to the list, jumbled and unorganized before pointing at them with an outstretched arm. [b] ?Hey! You two! I need somefin? from you?s guys...?[/b] he slurred in a drunken manner.

Mike raised his eyebrow and stared at the clearly intoxicated man questionably. Myers, however, became giddy for a task and ran to the man, dragging Mike by the shirt behind him. Myers posted up in front of the lethargic man promptly. [b] ?Sir, yes sir!??[/b] he reported like a soldier to the drunken man.

Boris gave the two a strange look before speaking. [b] ?I need ugh...?[/b] Boris looked back to his list of emails, [b] ?...some sombreros and a Pinata full of ....?[/b] he looked bak to the computer screen, [b] ?...porn.?[/b] He gave the two a serious look. Mike?s face matched Myers. They were both shocked and unable to form responses. Gary spoke again. [b] ?Got it? I need that for today... I?m going to have a fiesta!?[/b] he laughed, the smell of alcohol spewing from his mouth.

Gary withdrew a small credit card from his pocket and handed it to Myers. [b] ?Eh.....??[/b] Myers let out a strange sound of confusion.

[b] ?Dat?s a commmpany card... put it on the bu-budget... they outta pay for it.?[/b] Gary slurred as he retreated back into his cubicle.

Myers still held the card in confusion, then looked to Mike. [b] ?Uhm...?[/b] he mumbled, still confused.

[b] ?Are you sure we won?t like, get into trouble for his??[/b] Mike questioned Myers, who simply shrugged. Mike sighed. [b] ?Well... let?s go... find those sombrero?s.... and that dirty, dirty pinata.?[/b] Never in his wildest dreams did Mike ever figure he?d say those words or be placed in a position such as this. The two friends made their way out of the office and onto the street.

The two didn?t know where to start. They decided to begin by walking down the block to a local costume shop, where they nervously purchased a stack of large sombrero hats. They attempted their best to avoid any questions or eye contact with the store owner. They then began scouring the city for a place to buy a special pinata. In actuality, neither of them wanted to find a place that would sell such things.

They continued their journey, daring to enter a party shop which featured ?adult novelties? for such occasions. Myers grudgingly asked if they sold any pinatas, they answer being yes much to the two?s disgust. As they uneasily looked through the several, odd-shaped selections, they came to the realization that no one filled pinatas with pornography, or atleast, the two were ready to settle for what they had found thus far. Mike grabbed the least obscene of the group, a large set of breasts and the two quickly paid for it. Myers and Mike, at this point short of breath out of embarrassment, stepped out of the shop, and then realized just how far they had traveled on foot. Now with a stack of strange sombrero?s and a large set of paper-machete breasts, the duo would have to make the journey back to the office on foot...



[b]OOC:[/b] Take it away, DW.[/color][/size]
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[indent][size=1]People in the country were always friendly. You could fall from the heavens and land on their porch and they'd give you a fine "Howdy-doo!" In most cases, they'd invite you in for supper. But in the city, a man could be shot for just carrying a pinata shaped like a large pair of breasts.

"You're sick!"

"Get those off the street!"

"There are children around, perverts!"

"My sister has breast cancer, you ass!"

"Myers," Mike said in a worried tone. "I think people are yelling obscene things at us."

"Nonsense, Mike," Myers replied calmly, wearing one of the over-sized sombreros on his head. "You'll feel better when we're back in the office."

"Hey, buddy," said a woman who looked strangely like a man in a wig. "Lookin' for a good time?" She (He?) eyed the pinata and stroked her (his?) beard.

"Myers," Mike whimpered.

"C'mon, let's make haste," Myers squeeled and the two scrambled down the street. It wasn't long before they could see the office building in a distance. But they grew weary and all this traversing caused hunger in them. They decided to make a pitstop at a small restaurant on one of the many city blocks.


"What can I get for..." The waitress stopped and peered at the large set of breasts seated next to Myers. She cleared her throat, stared a little more in wonderment, then continued. "What can I get for you two today?"

"Let's see," said Mike, face buried in his menu, "it's still morning, so I guess I'll have some eggs."

"Flapjacks," Myers chimed. "Gotta love those flappyjacks."

"Sure thing," said the waitress in the most unenthused voice imaginable. She took the menus from their hands and wandered away. "Pervs."

"What's up with this?" Mike asked Myers when the waitress disappeared into the kitchen. "We're interns. I don't think we're meant to be running errands like this. What could that guy possibly want with a pinata full of porn?"

"I'd find that handy at any party," Myers said, eyeing the erotic paper mache game.

"He was intoxicated. It was clearly a drunk errand."

"Yeah, yeah," Myers discarded it. The waitress came back surprisingly early with the meals.

"That was fast," Mike admired. "Wait, you didn't just dig these up from the trash, did you?" Myers pulled some unidentifiable piece of food from his flapjacks, which were clearly eaten a little previously, whether by humans or rats.

"No," the waitress said monotonously.

"Did you spit in them or something?"

"Okay, maybe that." Mike looked sharply at the woman. "Now can you please stand up? The kind folks in here wanted me to kick you both in the crotch."

Mike and Myers both sighed and began standing up. "Okay, but just this once."


The two interns continued walking down the street... "... singing doo wa diddy diddy dum diddy doo."

"Shut up, Myers," Mike scolded. He rubbed his crotch soarly. "I just want to get this back to the office and start [i]real[/i] work."

"I dunno," Myers grinned. "I'm starting to get used to having these around." He smirked at the pinata with pride as a wave of more obnoxious statements were made their way.

"Way to promote female rights, assholes!"

"My wife's boobs are small, you jerk!"

"Dose are sum HUUUUUGE boobies!"

"Okay, maybe we should get back quickly," Myers agreed and the two sprinted the rest of the way to the office.


Upon trying the automatic door, Myers became stuck and Mike had to help him through. The two walked over to the elevator and pushed the button. "Let's just get these unusual objects to that drunk and go to our cubicle."

The doors to the elevator opened and the two started their way in. "Dose are sum HUUUUUGE boobies!"

Mike sighed as the elevator closed. When it opened again, they were greeted with lots of stares and looks of disgust. Myers caught the eye of an attractive woman and he shot her a smile. "Oh yeah, I roll that way." She turned away with a "Hmf!" and he followed Mike to Gary's cubicle.

By this time, Gary had passed out. The two interns had missed his drunk ranting, which consisted of something about pineapples taking over Wisconsin and if George Lucas and Michael Moore mated, they would make Kevin Smith. Mike and Myers decided to just put the sombreros, pinata and credit card on his desk and walk away slowly, but without luck. Gary woke up.

"Huh? What the hell is all this?"

"It's what you wanted," Mike said annoyed.

"Oh yeah," Gary said. He eyed the items questionably. "Do I smell flapjacks?"

"We better be getting to our cubicle."

"Yeah, yeah, go on," Gary waved them off, and so they left him. "I have better things to do anyways." He picked up the pinata shaped like a pair of breasts and stared at it. A woman passed by, stopped, and looked at him. He saw this and smiled at her. "Oh yeah, I roll that way."[/size][/indent]
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[font=arial][size=1]Moments later, Gary saw Boris walk by his cubicle again.

"Hey Boris, ya wanted these?" he questioned, offering a giant paper-machete breast high up in the air, almost like an announcement.

Boris's head twitched in every direction much like a scared bird, checking for onlookers. "No, you wanted those, man!" he shout-whispered back.

"Why would I want these? Some sort of porn fiesta?" This caught the attention of some more people.

"Uh-huh, you were drunk. Extremely drunk," Boris said under his breath.

Suddenly the boss came into view. "Did someone say they were... [i]drunk?![/i]"

"Noooo..." Boris and Gary said together, shaking their heads in denial.

"Well, then... What's up with the boobs and the sombreros?" the boss asked.

He then turned around to see a few dozen employees whisper-chanting "Porn party! Porn party! Porn party!"

"Having a party after work again, eh, Gary?"

"Uhh, sure."

"Well, seeing as every one of my employees are currently standing behind me, and many of them haven't met eachother yet..." Their eyes got wide, "...I'm going to let you clear out the conference room upstairs and let you hold the party here!"

"Even the piñatas?"

"We're all adults, here."

"Okay, everyone! Party upstairs in two hours!" Gary exclaimed, now standing on his chair.

There was a roar of applause, laugher, and happy shouts around Gary's cubicle. Then, they were gone.

"Myers, Mike... you're helping me set this up."

"Where're the piñatas going?" asked Mike.

"The ceiling's high in the conference room, so we'll just have it above the table," suggested Myers.

"That works, you guys take care of that. Clean out everything on the walls. Get everything out of the room that looks important," commanded Gary, "I'm going to get some food."

They were gone. Gary checked his email once more to see that his client was [i]very[/i] unhappy with the logo he created for them, something about porn and Mexicans. He shrugged, got his car keys and left to get groceries.[/font][/size]
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[size=1][color=#1874CD]Opening one eye, Quyen found Sora hanging over her with a smile on her face. Sighing, Quyen stretched her arms in her chair while asking in a yawn, [B]?Something I can help you with, Sora??[/B] The happy Japanese co-worker looked to her with a smile that could?ve gone on for miles.

[B]?There?s an office party in two hours.?[/B] Immediately Quyen sat up with widened eyes. [B]?It?s in the conference room.?

?The boss is allowing it??[/B] Sora nodded in reply. [B]?Well that?s something new.?[/B]

The two sat in silence for a few moments before Sora asked, [B]?Are you going??

?Going where??

?To the party? or do you have ?so many things on your plate???[/B] Before Quyen could answer, Sora pushed herself from Quyen?s desk and began to walk out of her cubicle, all the while saying, [B]?In two hours, we?re going together.?[/B]

Blinking, she watched Sora walk away. Quyen had never been the type to socialize unless with people she knew well and this wasn?t one of those cases. She couldn?t help but decide whether to go or to stay; the very question was breaking into her concentration and made her stray far from what she was reading. With another sigh, as she always did, she looked out from her cubicle and saw Alex and Ginger walking away from Boris? office. She paid no heed but realized that Ginger?s cubicle wall had fallen. Without surprise, Quyen chuckled to herself as she always had done in others? misfortune. It wasn?t meant to be rude or mean, it was an unconscious act that she couldn?t help with.

[B]?Poor Ginger, always having to deal with that wall of hers. Now, to get on with this report.?[/B] Sitting there, Quyen mumbled to herself and punched numbers into the calculator on her desk, typing and noting everything that came her way. Once done, she nodded to herself and went to reading e-mails. She sifted through the regular junk mail and went on to reading more important ones that gave more concern than meeting singles. Clicking on one particular e-mail, Quyen went on to reading that she would be visited by her friends from the west coast. Eyes widened again and her head fell in front of the screen. [B]?Great, more work.?[/B][/size][/color]
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OOC: My apologies for taking so long to post again.

---

[size=1]Vincent stood in the hall after he and Ginger parted ways.

[i]Was she really serious about people only paying attention to my clothes?[/i] he thought. [i]It can't be. She was just teasing me.[/i] By now droves of people were exiting the cafeteria like listless zombies, (not so) eager to get back to their cubicles and get some work done.

Vincent watched a few of them leave, and then he began walking back and forth amongst them. Not a one so much as peeked in his general direction. They simply accepted his presence and allowed him to squeeze in among them for as long as he desired. After a few tours, Vincent pushed away from the latest gaggle of lost souls and sat down at the corner of the hall.

"My God," he said. "Ginger is right. She's actually [i]right[/i]. I've got one little article of clothing missing, and suddenly nobody recognizes me! [b]My face is not known to even one person in this building[/b]! That's so depressing."

He bowed his head in silent repose. Groups of workers continued to walk by, some even taking the time to look down at Vincent in wonder, perhaps vaguely recognizing him from another department in the building, but those hazy recollections soon floated into nothingness like a student's math skills during summer break. One or two people were so kind as to toss Vincent a nickel as they passed through.

As yet another small, shiny silver-colored nickel clanged against the ground, Vincent raised a hand to his eyes, rubbed them wearily, and stood up. [i]Oh well. There's no reason for me to keep hanging around here[/i], he thought. [i]I've got to get back to my cubicle, and I can't do that by sitting around here moping about how nobody knows who I am. There will be plenty of time for that later when I'm safe from being fired.[/i]

The elevator doors opened, almost as if they had just read Vincent's mind, and they beckoned him into their warm embrace. Though the news of his near-invisible status at the company hit Vincent hard, he could not help but feel glad that he was getting away scot free. The elevator's atmosphere seemed much lighter than it had before; it smelled of cupcakes and happiness, both perhaps left behind by a previous inhabitant. Vincent looked around: There were no cupcakes in the elevator. That was okay, however. There was plenty of happiness to make up for it.

Before Vincent could press the button to his floor, more people filled the car. As soon as everyone was in, he pressed buttons absent-mindedly, pushing whichever ones everyone desired, and then he tapped the door close button impatiently.

"Just a minute!" someone outside shouted. "Please hold the door open!" Vincent sighed and quickly pressed the door open button. A middle-aged, sharply-dressed man stepped inside, smoothing out the bottom of his suit coat. Vincent inhaled sharply when he saw the man, though he composed himself when the denizens on the elevator peered quizically in his direction.

[i]Shit![/i] Vincent thought. [i]That's my boss! I'll be a damned lucky man if I can get out of this one alive.[/i]

"Would you mind pressing that floor, young man?" Vincent's boss asked.

"Not at all," Vincent said, snapping out of his thoughts. "I'm going that way, myself." [i]What the hell am I doing?[/i]

At last, the elevator doors closed and the car lurched upwards. A queasy feeling built slowly in Vincent's stomach, ascending slowly and surely, burning the walls of his throat. He tried to keep himself calm but was not completely up to the task; he squeezed himself into the far right corner of the elevator, leaning against the wall in a needlessly stiff manner.

"Are you okay?" Vincent's boss inquired, looking over at Vincent.

"Hm?" Vincent replied, a bit too loudly. "Um, yes, I'm fine. Just a bit excited is all. I'm raring to get back to work!"

"Ah, I see. If only every employee were like you!"

[i]If only, indeed[/i], Vincent thought bitterly. [i]Maybe you and everybody else could bother to remember my name if every employee were like me.[/i] The car sputtered to a bumpy stop, and with one final jerk, it settled down and the doors open. Everybody stepped out and went their own separate ways.

Vincent walked back to his cubicle and sat as his desk with a sigh. He turned on his computer and flipped through a couple of folders on his desk. The day had barely started and yet he had already had his fill of it. If only one could get paid for sleeping all day; alas, it was not meant to be. Vincent leaned back in his chair, but he could not get comfortable.

At that moment he felt like the best course of action would be to run screaming through the halls, grabbing every disposable object and tossing them in every possible direction. Destruction. That's what this place needed: A good dose of destruction, something to spice up the place, something to alleviate the unbearable boredom. Anything would have pleased Vincent; however, random acts of violence would have pleased him most just then.

Vincent reached into pocket and found the tie he had stuffed in there earlier. While putting it on, he calmed down and rationalized the situation. Random acts of destruction wouldn't help anybody. That would just get him fired and leave the company with some annoying clean-up work to do. He was already in over his head finanically as it was; with his stand-up act going nowhere fast, the last thing Vincent needed was to be ingloriously fired and chucked out onto the street, unable to afford rent.

"Vincent," someone said, passing by his cubicle, "it's good to see you working."

Vincent looked up in time to see his boss strolling away, smug as could be. He unconsciously wrung his tie and continued turning through the folders.[/size]
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