Jim and X017 met briefly after work hours to feed the office’s new overlord another ream of dot-matrix paper. This time, they decided to play the long game. Their next piece of brilliance needed time and space to fully showcase itself.
“Okay, X,” Jim said, carefully threading the paper into the notches. “Our next directive needs to involve my Molecular Material Combinator.”
“Oh yes, the stapler,” X017 replied. “Such a quaint piece of equipment.”
Jim smirked. “I think those might have actually been the good old days! Pens, paper, staples, paper clips! My grandfather once told me about something called ‘Liquid Paper.’ Can you believe people used to paint over their mistakes?”
X017 tilted his head. “An inefficient solution to errors. Did humans not have access to the undo function?”
Jim chuckled, leaning against the wall. “Nope. And the stories? You wouldn’t believe it. People used to paint their fingernails with the stuff—like it was nail polish. My grandfather swore someone in his office once tried to ‘fix’ a chipped tooth with it.”
X017 blinked—his optical lights flickering in disbelief. “This explains much about human decision-making.”
Jim laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t even get me started on the ones who sniffed it for kicks. Honestly, X, we might deserve all this digital nonsense after that.”
Jim stood, dusting his hands off as he closed the secret panel with satisfaction. “Bet it was a mess, but at least it wasn’t all this sterile, digital nonsense.”
“I confess I cannot fathom what you have in store next using a stapler,” X017 said, his tone almost curious.
Jim smirked and made a mental note of X’s curiosity for their next lunch meeting. “Well, this boils down to me wanting to staple Douglas’ atrocious tie to his forehead. Since I can’t actually do that, I’ll settle for HR requiring ties to be stapled to shirts. Oh, and you may be involved—if someone’s too uncomfortable to have me do it.”
X017 tilted his head. “Shall we wait a week or more this time?”
To their credit, X017 with infinite patience and Jim’s perfect planning, they managed to wait an entire three weeks for their Tie Safety Directive.
On a seemingly normal Thursday morning, after being once again lulled to complacency, the Dot Matrix Overlord spit out the culmination of weeks of quiet calculation...
“ATTENTION ALL STAFF:
To ensure workplace safety and professionalism, all ties must now be securely fastened to clothing to prevent accidental entanglement with office equipment.
This policy is effective immediately. Employees may use the Molecular Material Combinator provided by HR to comply.
Please see the IT Coordinator on your floor to secure you apparel. The IT Coordinator has been trained in these measures. For those uncomfortable with this process, X017 is also available to secure neckties.
Thank you for your cooperation.
—Multi-Matrix Human Resource Management.”**
“Well, this one makes sense and it’s for safety! You wouldn’t want your tie getting caught in anything like a door, or a desk drawer, or even the wheels of your chair!”, Karen, newly Crowned Compliance Queen squealed in odd delight. She turned to Jim. “But..what’s a Molecular Material Combinator?”
“Oh, it’s revolutionary. Just wait until you see it in action.”, Jim answered with a straight face.
“Securing our ties to our shirts? What’s next, sewing our socks to our pants? Did HR never hear of a tie clip?”, Douglas riffed in disgust as he joined the conversation.
Douglas gestured to the memo in Karen’s hands. “Does anyone else feel like HR’s just messing with us now?”
“Just now? I felt that three memos ago.”, agreed Worker 42. But do we even have to use the combinator, can we just use tape? And is a tie required for all, it’s not part my usual attire?”
X017, wearing vintage Air Jordans and a necktie taped to his front chest plate, glided by silently, beginning his weekly plant measurements.
“Well, you can try the tape, sure, I won’t tell on you. I do have to make a safety and compliance report, I suppose I could conveniently forget you exist?”, offered Jim helpfully.
“Oh dear, I’d better not risk it!”, worker 42 panicked.
“Or just don’t wear a flippin’ tie. These are not insurmountable issues.” Douglas scoffed.
Just then X and Jim shared a quick look. Jim was amazed at their timing but wondered if at that moment X what thinking the same thing. “We need to get Douglas and get him good!”
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Karen, ever the compliance queen, insisted on a demonstration of the Molecular Material Combinator.
Standing at his desk, Jim held the red stapler aloft like a sacred artifact. “This,” he declared, “is the future of office safety. Observe.”
Douglas folded his arms, already annoyed. “You’re not seriously—”
Before he could finish, Jim grabbed the bottom of Douglas’ tie and stapled it securely to his shirt. Holding out his arms in triumph, he said, “Behold! Safe, professional, and OSHA-approved.”
The office erupted into laughter. Karen clapped politely. “That’s… surprisingly effective.” Satisfied, she returned to her cubicle.
Douglas stared down at his shirt, his expression slowly morphing from disbelief to fury. “You stapled my tie. To my shirt.”
Jim shrugged. “You’re welcome.”
Douglas pointed an accusing finger at him. “This is a violation of… of something! Do you know how much this tie cost? It’s imported silk!”
Jim leaned back, grinning. “Well, now it’s imported and secure.”
Douglas fumed, stomping back to his desk. Muttering to himself, he yanked open a drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. “Stapling ties… who even does that?!”
From across the room, Worker 42 whispered, “First the plants, now the ties. What’s next?”
Douglas jogged back to his desk to try carefully removing the offending staple.
Meanwhile, Jim set up a small “tie compliance station” at his desk. A simple sheet of paper labeled “Molecular Material Combinator Operations Center” sat next to the red stapler.
“The probability of belief is increasing,” X017 observed as he joined Jim. “Shall I provide assistance in distributing staples for you?”
Jim leaned back in his chair, grinning. “X, I swear, you’re getting the hang of this mischief thing.”
Twenty minutes later Jim’s email pinged. A not at all surprising email from Douglas to HR.
Jim quietly motioned to X017 to look at his computer’s monitor while they both read silently.
To: [email protected]
Subject: Staplers and Workplace Safety
Dear HR,
I am formally lodging a complaint regarding the recent demonstration of a so-called “Molecular Material Combinator.” Not only was my personal property—an imported silk tie—defaced, but this action was presented as part of an official safety directive.
This is entirely inappropriate, unprofessional, and a waste of company resources. I request an immediate review of the incident and clarification regarding the necessity of such measures.
Sincerely,
Douglas Allen
Twenty minutes later Jim’s email pinged. A not-at-all-surprising email from Douglas to HR.
Jim motioned silently for X017 to look at the monitor. The two read it together, Jim’s expression remaining neutral until the end. X remained his stoic self, of course.
Jim shoved back his chair, standing abruptly. “I, uh… need a coffee. Be right back.” He bolted toward the break room, X017 gliding behind him.
Fortunately, the room was empty. The moment the X shut the break room door, Jim doubled over, clutching the edge of the counter for support as laughter erupted from him. “Oh, my—‘formal statement clarifying the necessity of such practices’—Douglas, you kill me!”
X017 tilted his head. “Observation: Your reaction suggests significant amusement. However, laughter alone does not resolve the issue.”
Jim wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “No, but it makes it so worth it. Let’s write this guy a reply that’ll keep him fuming.”
X017’s optics flickered as he accessed the HR system. “Drafting reply. Suggest referencing ‘shared innovation values’ and ‘team safety goals.’ Shall I escalate the ambiguity factor?”
Jim grinned, grabbing a leftover Snickers from his pocket. “Always escalate the ambiguity. Let’s make sure Douglas has no idea what hit him.”
“Shall we delay sending the email until maximum impact—two minutes before the end of the workday?” X017 inquired.
Jim, still wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, absolutely. Just before quittin’ time. That’s when it’ll really hit him.”
At 4:57 p.m. that same day, HR’s reply reaches Douglas’ email:
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Immediate Review of Workplace Conduct
Dear Mr. Allen,
Thank you for your thoughtful feedback regarding the recent safety demonstration. We value your dedication to fostering a collaborative and secure environment.
The Molecular Material Combinator initiative represents our commitment to innovation in compliance measures and ensuring optimal workplace safety. Your concerns have been noted and escalated to the Behavioral and Cultural Alignment Committee.
As we continue to refine this initiative, we encourage you to explore alternative tie-securement options to better align with team safety protocols. Alternative tie-securing equipment are available at your request. Please email [email protected]
Your cooperation is greatly appreciated, and we thank you for your ongoing contributions.
Best regards,
Multi-Matrix Human Resource Management
Douglas read the response in disbelief, muttering, “What kind of company has an Alternative Tie Compliance Team?”
Worker 42, peeking over his cubicle on her way out for the day, whispered, “They’ve got whole teams for this stuff, Douglas. Don’t question it. That’s how they get you.”
Douglas stood up from his desk, throwing his arms in the air. “What is this, some Orwellian dystopia? This isn’t 1984!”
Still, as annoyed as he was, he couldn’t help but feel reassured that he didn’t have to walk around like a doofus with his tie stapled down to his shirt. He grabbed his bag and stormed toward the elevator.
From Jim’s desk, X017 tilted his head, observing Douglas’s retreat. “Observation: The situation has de-escalated. Frustration levels remain high, but compliance has been achieved.”
Jim grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, we’re not exactly Big Brother, but I’d say we’re doing a damn good impression.”
X017 tilted his head, his optics flickering in curiosity. “Clarification requested: What is ‘Big Brother’?”
Jim grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he walked toward the exit. “Oh, it’s this reality show where people live in a house, and everything they do is filmed. They vote each other out one by one until there’s a winner.”
X017 followed him, silent for a moment before asking, “And the purpose of this is…?”
Jim grinned. “Drama. Alliances. Betrayal. Also, apparently people find it entertaining to watch strangers argue over who ate the last slice of pizza.”
X017’s optics flickered again. “Observation: Humans willingly submit to constant surveillance for the prospect of minor rewards and recognition.”
Jim laughed as he pushed open the door to leave. “Exactly. It’s like an Orwellian dystopia but with a snack budget. Welcome to humanity, X.”