Sitting along in my office, drinking the largest cup of coffee I had ever had, I found myself doing the same work as always. You see, I work as a manager of sorts, specifically managing where this company’s money goes. I’m not an accountant per se, I just make sure the right people get what they want rather than sending the money to what people think is useful.
And, thanks to my work, the investors of this company are very happy. So happy in fact that my office is the entirety of the top floor of the building.
After finishing the conclusion to my latest report, I found myself sitting back in my chair… You know what? That annoying homeless guy and the pathetic barista… If I muddled my report a bit… I could take over the coffee shop on the ground floor as well as the outside of the building. I could finally get rid of them for good.
Oh, and if I wanted to really get rid of them, instead of banning them from the area, I could instead call security on them and charge them with some random crime. Hmm… I’d say they at least deserve 25 years for existing.
With that thought, I picked up my phone to call Paul and ask him the room number of the coffee shop. After the phone stopped ringing, I opened by saying, “Hey Paul, I’ve got a problem that needs to be taken care of, mind giving me the number of that awful coffee shop on the ground floor called The Old Wood Oak?”
But I didn’t get a reply.
“Hey, Paul? I don’t care if you’re busy, my problems outweigh yours.”
Nothing.
“You know I can have you fired for not answering your superior, right Paul?”
Oh, hang on, I don’t think he even answered me? Why didn’t the phone go to voice mail? Or play a sound? Or literally anything? Maybe I accidentally pulled the plug…
Getting up from my desk, I walked to the extension lead behind the desk. Nope, it’s still plugged in. I must have lost signal then? In a really weird way that bugged the phone? If that’s even possible?
As I walked back to the front of my desk, I saw something in my office that shouldn’t be there: A black cane with a silver top in a shape similar to a light bulb. It was simply leaning against my one and only potted plant.
I know I didn’t put that there… I never put anything by that plant in order to not obscure the view of the window. Obviously a cane doesn’t block the window, but it sure as hell doesn’t complement the view.
After walking up to the cane, I decided to pick it up. It was quite well made. The silver top was full of engravings of random shapes, mostly swirls, and made the whole thing surprisingly heavy. The pole was a bit cheaper on the other hand, it seemed to be either made of cheap wood or something similar.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“What do you think Smith?” a posh, upper class sounding voice suddenly echoed across the room, “Is it up to your standards?”
“And who’re you?” I said while turning around. I found myself looking at a young looking man wearing a top hat and a thick, woollen trench coat. The top hat was circled by an orange ribbon and the coat seemed to be slightly scruffy and worn.
“Oh, I really thought your standards were higher than that, Smith…” the man laughed, “It should be ‘who are you’. No apostrophes needed.”
“Yeah, I don’t care, just tell me your name otherwise I get my security drone to throw you out of the window.”
“There you go again, shortening words that do not need to be shortened… What a pity,” he said with a seemingly fake frown, “My name is Orange.”
Orange may be my favourite colour, but using it as a name is just tacky.
I agree, but shut up, “Orange? What kind of pathetic waste of space are you?”
“I know, my name is quite celebrated where I am from: Orange Waste they call me.”
“What. The. Hell. Do. You. Want.”
“I do not want anything. I am simply here on business,” Orange said with a sudden serious face.
“If you have any business with me, then it’d be on my calendar. But since that’s empty, I suppose it’s time my drone gives you some fresh air so I can return to my work.”
“Oh… I do not have business with you…” Orange said before a short pause, “You are my business.”
“I am your business?”
“Yes, you are,” Orange said smugly, “In short, I have been watching your actions over the past few years and… Suffice to say, you need to be put in detention.”
“Detention… Are you serious? You really think I’m going to go along with whatever... School play you’ve come up with?” I’m not so sure if that’s what I wanted to say… It sounds more, suggestive than I meant it to sound.
“I am afraid to tell you Smith: This is no play,” Orange said while slightly shaking his head. Suddenly, the cane, that I had continued to hold throughout the conversation, suddenly flew out of my arms and flew in the direction of Orange. He caught it in his right hand without even trying, “And now, I am afraid to say that this has gone on long enough…”
To my surprise, several white rectangles appeared around Orange almost like sliding doors and, through each of them, multiple people emerged. Half of these people looked exactly like Orange, while the other half were women who wore the exact same clothes as Orange, except one or two who wore black dresses.
“James Smith. I am placing you under arrest due to your seeming lack of empathy. Your sentence is 5 years in Virtual Education,” the original Orange said with a sudden lack of his posh voice which was replaced with a more casual voice. Then, directly in front of me, another white rectangle appeared, blocking my view of most of the people in front of me, “Now, we ask that you please step inside the reception area. If you do not, we will force you instead.”
“Uhm, yeah… No. I think what I really need to do is to lie down and go to sleep. Obviously you people are from whatever that barista spiked my coffee with.”
“Very well then,” one of the Oranges said before an orange glow suddenly appeared around me. The orange glow was connected to a wavy orange line that came from the cane of one of the Oranges I could still see. Then, I felt myself being lifted up and slowly dragged through the white rectangle.