Buzzer wasn't having a good time. Being de-buzzerfied, how could he?

What was worse he still had to show up to work if he wanted to get paid. Even though he could barely move, and had to spend his entire shift laying in bed. Damn HR bastards.

"At least they didn't move you to the box shuffling department." Pepples sipped his coffee.

Buzzer had to admit that was true. Once you go there, you don't come back. He vaguely almost remembered some other kid joining the crew with Tofu. Not that he could remember his name or what he looked like, or anything.

His name started with O-something, right?

Buzzer sighed and tried to buzz as hard as he could. It hurt like hell and didn't accomplish anything, but if you only had one thing going for you in life, you don't exactly feel like giving it up.

"At least you didn't get turned into a girl, like Tofu wanted."

Buzzer nodded his head. There was at least that. The garden shears still haunted his nightmares.

"*gasp!*"

They turned their heads at the sound, and there standing in the doorway was Tofu, holding a bouquet of sandwiches.

"I knew I forgot something!"

----------------------------------------

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

If you really don't understand what's going on with all the plotlines in this series, don't worry. Neither does the guy writing this.

Just wanted to remind you all, if you thought this was going anywhere. I'm just making shit up as I go along, one scene at a time. Just like the writers on Lost.

Just just just. Just is a nice word.

"If you want your bioweapon to not run amok, just make sure its trained on metrics that align its values so as to be compatible with human life!" The word "just" doing a hella lot of work in that sentence. Does any other word in the english language, carry such a heavy load on its back?

----------------------------------------

Horace dropped off the delivery to the egghead's lair, and took a 45 minute break on the can. It was a lifehack she had learned from Pointy Girl recently.

Among the low level grunts, it was normal for things to be lonely for her. At least in the upper ranks there was a skewed ratio of men and women, with a massive 5% of them being ladies, but she weren't no bone head. She was a grunt. The domain of box shufflers, thing movers, and base guards.

She'd consider herself background scenery, but the fern in the corner of the women's restroom had more character presence and importance that her.

... it did seem like she had a lot more work than she used to have to do, these days. Weird.