I always thought I'd die of boredom at work, not of “natural causes” during my exit interview.

The meeting room was the epitome of corporate blandness. Off-white walls surrounded a functional but unremarkable table, lined with uncomfortable chairs. Just breathe, Vince. You've got this. But who was I kidding? I knew exactly why I'd been called to this freezing cold conference room on the 32nd floor. The merger rumors had been flying for weeks, and I guess it was my turn to become another corporate statistic.

"Hello, Vincent Logan. Can I call you Vince?" the man on the right asked, not even attempting to smile.

"Sure thing," I replied with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Although some call me the Spreadsheet Whisperer." Judging by the blank looks, my nervous attempt at humor fell flat as I wrestled with a stuck wheel on my chair. I leaned forward and said, “I suppose you’re wondering why I gathered you here today.”

The two men stared at me blankly.

Tough crowd.

A sealed water bottle and a box of tissues sat before me, while the men had open laptops and coffee. For a moment, I was reminded of the Bobs from the movie Office Space. If you’ve never seen Office Space, you should rectify that quickly.

The walls were a plain off-white. A dry-erase board hung behind the head of the table. There were no words of advice, spiritual messages, or a number to call if you felt depressed. It was pristine. Maybe I should draw a big middle finger on it on my way out the door. A poop emoji would really liven this place up.

Focus, Vince. I thought about all the hours I'd put in as a Correspondence Specialist, diligently entering data into spreadsheets and databases. Sure, it wasn't the most exciting job, but I worked hard. I did overtime when requested. I almost never complained, and if there was extra work, I had no problem helping others on the team. Now, it seemed like none of that mattered. With that said, I was surprised it had taken the company this long to figure out I could easily be replaced by an AI that could do my job faster and cheaper.

As the men droned on about “restructuring” and “streamlining”, my mind wandered. What was I going to do now that I was out of work? I didn't have many hobbies. I read fantasy novels and played video games, especially RPGs. Maybe I could finally do a full Dark Urge run in Baldur's Gate 3 as a halfling barbarian.

I could also obsessively watch The Food Network and then try to cook increasingly complicated meals for myself. I couldn't get enough of cooking shows. I liked to write down interesting recipes, tweak them, tweak them some more, and then share them on recipe-swap subreddits. They weren’t all winners, but I had a pretty good track record.

One of my future projects involved assembling my best recipes and printing copies as Christmas presents. Because nothing says love like foisting the book you wrote on your family.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I cracked open the water bottle, took a sip, and noted that it was somehow warm in this refrigerator of an office.

"Does my health insurance continue after my firing?" I interjected.

"You qualify for COBRA," Right Bob said, sliding another brochure across the desk. "This isn't a firing, Vince. It's a parting of ways, if you will. The good news here, your severance package is quite…" he clicked his laptop's touchpad a few times. "Uh. Here it is. Your severance package is two weeks' salary. You'll draw unemployment and have a new job before you know it…"

No, I won't.

"…there's a large demand for skilled workers like yourself…"

No, there isn't.

"...it's a small transition..."

No, it's not.

“Do you guys work here?” I interrupted Right Bob.

“We’re with an outside consulting firm.”

Of course you are.

"I'm out of a job. I’ll be offered COBRA for health insurance, but I won’t be able to afford it. Sounds like I got the highlights. I guess that concludes our meeting."

The Bobs ignored me and continued to drone on about my next steps as they shoved a few more brochures in my direction. I thought about my bank account and its pitiful state.

My rent was paid for the month, and I could apply for unemployment, but it wouldn’t last forever. Was I too old to be a beach bum? Maybe I could pack up my belongings, rent a car, and drive to California. Find a nice piece of land and set up a tent. Watch the sun rise and set every day. Maybe learn how to fish. I could befriend a few seagulls and become the crazy beach seagull guy.

What was I even thinking? I'd have better luck living on the moon.

The Bobs continued speaking, but I was miles away.

Why was I suddenly so out of it? My head felt light, and the room spun. Or I spun, and the room was stationary. My face tingled, and a sharp pain started to pulse in my chest on the left side.

"Uh. Help?"

"Vince? You don't look so well. Vince?" Left Bob asked me. I'm not sure if he had a facial expression because he was suddenly blurry. Fun new game: Which Bob is Talking?

"This one," a voice rasped behind me. "This one will do."

My head whipped around, but there was no one there. "Huh?"

Right Bob was on his feet. Left Bob picked up his cell phone and started dialing.

"Begin the rite," the rasping voice said.

"My lord. Are you sure?" A woman's voice. "Your soul will be trapped in the other world."

"A new world. A new life. I shall summon you soon."

"My lord." The woman's voice choked back a sob.

"Do it. Do it now!"

“What rite? Who is that?” I demanded.

Where in the world were the voices coming from? Was one of The Bobs watching a movie on their laptop while laying out my future unemployment plans?

Left Bob had his hand on my forehead. Right Bob was frantically yelling for help into his phone.

"This happens sometimes," I said, then gasped as the pressure in my chest increased tenfold. "Fainting. Uh. And the pain. It's been going on for a year… Beach. Do you guys like the beach? I want to go sit on one and eat hot wings… I love wings. The spicier, the better. And… and… I love lamp.”

"Get someone up here right now!" Right Bob yelled.

"Am I dying?"

"Only in this world," the rasping voice said.