The admin is insane. He has fired everyone in the facility, including himself. We have been trying to vote out the admin, but he has argued that we are strictly authoritarian. The cats are not intervening, instead commenting about how we should have listened to them and chosen a better admin. The dogs are not even intelligent enough to know what democracy means; We are doomed.
-Unknown source
* * *
David dreamed of a mouse firing a bunch of mice, rehiring them, and then firing them again?
Whatever. Weird dreams were normal. The psychologist had told them that they meant something, but...
What the heck could a bunch of mice firing each other and arguing about him, the "test subject", and talking about some "doom day" as if they were the cause of all this nonsense possibly mean? This made even less sense than that dream he had about a unicorn barfing on little white pebbles and then selling them and calling them "skittles"!
Come to think of it, the one about the unicorn barfing on pebbles wasn't all that weird. That would explain why all the skittles tasted the same. But if the barf was rainbow, and the colors were different, wouldn't that mean that the taste was...? Dang it! He was confusing himself again.
It was time for his morning coffee(s). Adding an S at the end always makes it seem like there was more.
* * *
REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED
-REDACTED REDACTED
* * *
"Didn't the admin fire that redactor, like, yesterday?"
"Yeah, he did."
"Say...Who is the redactor?"
"Don't have the foggiest idea. He never showed his face and he seems to get fired every other day."
"Every other day?"
"The admin got on the news for firing the redactor every day, and then the redactor partially redacted what they put on the news, and so then the admin only fires him every other day now."
"Partially redacted?"
"Yeah. I'll email the news article to you later. Which one do you want? The first or the second? Or both?"
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"There are two?"
"Three, actually."
"How?"
"They made another one about how the first one was 'partially redacted', only to have it 'partially redacted' as well."
"And the third?"
"That one was just to see if the redactor would 'partially redact' anything involving us."
"What happened to freedom of the press?"
"Dunno."
"Say...Who is the redactor anyway?"
* * *
What...was the meaning of life?
Was it to develop? To be entertained? Or was it to drink coffee?
Probably the latter.
David's coffee-powered brainstorming came to its inevitable end when he began thinking about coffee again.
* * *
"Subject is...Thinking about coffee again."
"Humans."
"I know, right?"
"Should we switch to a new subject?"
"Yes, probably."
"Okay, you go switch subjects, I'll see if I can somehow get Paranoi - Dadmin removed from his position."
"That's a hopeless cause, you know."
"Then what should we do?"
"I don't know, transfer all the equipment over?"
"It's easier and more effective to get Paranoi moved into an asylum."
"But wouldn't he just order his way back out?"
"...Whatever. Just go change the subject already."
"Say... What's the code for that?"
* * *
ERROR 403
Error code: [ 2 3 9 3e 2 3e 3r9 23 r 239r 3r239r r9 344r04r 34 r349r 43r0 93 4 r09 34r 0 4 09 r 0 3 4 9r 04 rr k f 93 I 0f rg4 g t0 b3 r k 2 4 r g l q 3 w r r p g we fo iw jfep q o we k g [ q gkp3[ I 4kr9 2ut 03uj ] ] t-94 ru0 92 3 4 03 84 91 -2 4 8 3 907 4 8 97 10 2 4 1 2 938 1 2 4 r u ejf 0 w I ep f j 2 0 efn v e w p Ix7 ]
Invalid code.
Description: Code entered is invalid. Code is very similar to that of [ /random test subject ] .
You will have to wait another twenty one thousand twenty one hundred twenty one seconds before attempting to enter another code.
Sincerely, Error 403*
*404 is an overrated CENSORED CENSORED CENSORED CENSORED
Seriously?
If the C - damned terminal was smart enough to know that the C - damned code was close to the one he was trying to put in, why didn't it just initiate it?!
What mothersqueaker coded this thing, anyway?!
* * *
Meanwhile, in REDACTED...
I GOT FIRED AGAIN TODAY! FREEDOMMMMMM!!!!!!!
...Uh, I mean... REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED