Jim conspires with X017 to wait one more workday to allow Douglas to stew a broth of his own frustration.

By 10:00 a.m. a full day of Positivity Journaling, Douglas’s irritation mounted. He spent most of the morning muttering under his breath about tyranny and nonsensical policies.

Once again at precisely 11:00 a.m., the now-infamous Overlord screeched to life, delivering its next decree:

ATTENTION ALL STAFF:

To maintain a unified and professional workplace environment, all personal styluses must conform to the new Corporate Stylus Standards (CSS).

Effective immediately:

1. Styluses must be blue with no visible logos or personal decorations.

2. Approved models are available through the IT supply office.

3. Non-compliant styluses will be confiscated during routine compliance checks.

Please direct any questions to your local IT Coordinator.

Thank you for your cooperation.

—Multi-Matrix Human Resource Management

“Oh, I love this idea! It’ll look so sleek when everyone has the same stylus. Like a team!”, squealed Karen.

“Wait, I can’t use my purple stylus anymore? whined an incredulous Worker 42, “But… it matches my tablet case!”

With obvious pressure building in the tension of his voice, Douglas shouted “What’s next, HR’s going to ban personal backgrounds on our tablets? Are we standardizing wallpaper now?”,

Jim looked up, feigning surprise. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, Douglas. This is an HR thing. You know how they are.”

Douglas waved the memo in Jim’s face. “This is insane! Current styluses work perfectly fine! What are they trying to prove?”

Jim shrugged, barely hiding his smirk. “Maybe it’s a branding thing. You know, synergy and all that.”

X017 glided by compliant blue styluses tucked neatly into his chest plate. “Observation: Compliance requires adaptation. Resistance is counterproductive.” His tone was calm, almost smug, as though he were returning from some unseen mission.

Douglas threw up his hands. “This entire office has lost its mind!”

Muttering, he stomped back to his desk, ready to drown his irritation in a cup of stale coffee. But as soon as he sat down, he froze. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Something tall, green, and prickly.

Douglas stood slowly, his gaze sweeping the room like a hawk hunting its prey. A burst of energy one would never suspect, Douglas exited the cube farm.

“They wouldn’t,” he muttered, his pace quickening as realization dawned. He burst into the break room, his voice rising. “They did!”

There it was: his cactus, stationed like a proud sentinel between the vending machine that never worked properly and the seafood crematorium masquerading as a microwave.

Douglas’s mental tether finally snapped. He stormed back into the office, snatched the Molecular Material Combinator off Jim’s desk, and marched like a soldier into battle toward the paper slot.

“Douglas?” Worker 42 called nervously. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ending this!” Douglas shouted and stormed back into the office. “This wall of paper has been ruining my life for weeks, and I’m done playing along!”

Douglas raised a stapler high above his head—and began hammering at the wall with wild abandon.

The office staff jumped up in amazement, their collective gasps punctuated by the satisfying thuds and bangs as Douglas unleashed weeks of pent-up frustration.

With one final swing, the panel popped loose, clattering to the floor and revealing the Directive Overlord in all its unstoppable, screeching glory: a Dot-Matrix Printer.

Karen gasped, clutching her pearls. “Oh, my goodness! Is that… some kind of printer?!”

Worker 42 backed away, eyes wide. “I knew it. They’re watching us. They’ve implemented ancient tech to do it! The older the tech, the harder it is to trace. It’s the perfect surveillance tool You can’t hack what’s already obsolete—it’s the perfect surveillance system!” She glanced nervously at the ceiling. “I bet it’s recording everything.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Jim and X017 exchanged a quick look, their silent coordination honed from weeks of scheming. They hurried over.

“Douglas, buddy!” Jim said, throwing an arm around Douglas’s trembling shoulders. “Let’s talk about this. You don’t want to do something you’ll regret, like, you know… breaking company property.”

Douglas shrugged Jim’s arm off and whirled on him, pointing a shaking finger. “You! You’ve been behind this the whole time, haven’t you?”

Jim raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Behind what? Encouraging compliance? Supporting HR’s bold new initiatives? I’m just a team player, Doug.”

“Don’t ‘Doug’ me!” Douglas snapped, his voice rising. “This—this printer conspiracy, these insane policies—it all reeks of you!”

X017 stepped forward calmly. “Observation: Douglas’s frustration levels are approaching critical thresholds. Recommend de-escalation to prevent workplace disruption.”

Douglas spun on X017, his face a mix of fury and confusion. “Oh, don’t you start! You’re in on it too, aren’t you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you strutting around in bunny slippers and taped-on ties, leading by example!”

Jim stifled a laugh, clearing his throat to mask it. “Douglas, you’re spiraling. Let’s just take a breath, maybe grab a coffee—”

“Don’t patronize me!” Douglas barked, jabbing a finger at the slot in the wall. “That thing has been spitting out madness for weeks, and I’m done pretending it’s normal! You’ve got HR on speed dial, right? Let’s call them. Let’s get them down here right now and see if they even know this prehistoric monstrosity exists!”

Jim shot X017 a quick glance, the unspoken message clear: time to divert.

“Douglas, buddy,” Jim started, but Douglas was already marching out of the cube farm not waiting on Jim to call HR, muttering loudly about corporate insanity.

Jim jogged to catch up. “Douglas, wait! You’re really going to HR with this? Do you think they’re going to take you seriously?”

Douglas spun on his heel, eyes blazing. “You mean to tell me they’ll just ignore the fact that someone—you—has been hijacking company communications with a 60-year-old printer?”

Jim shrugged nonchalantly. “Think about it, man. Real HR probably doesn’t even know these directives exist. And if they do, what’s the harm? People are more productive, Karen finally cut her ficus, and you’ve got a shiny new appreciation day. Everyone wins!”

Douglas glared, incredulous. “Wins? Wins? I’ve got a cactus in exile, a fake holiday in my name, a hole in a beloved tie, and now HR wants to standardize styluses. You call that a win?”

X017 glided into view, his optical lights flickering. “Observation: Douglas’s resistance is increasing. A cooperative approach may yield better results.”

Jim smirked. “See? Even X thinks you’re overreacting.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Look, I know you’re mad. But tell me something, Douglas—when’s the last time you actually cared about coming to work? Be honest.”

Douglas narrowed his eyes. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” Jim said, “is that this place is awful. You know it. I know it. Everyone here is just going through the motions—except us. Without these directives, without a little chaos, what’s left? Endless meetings and HR jargon.”

Douglas crossed his arms. “And you think this… madness is the solution?”

Jim grinned. “No, but it’s a start. And it’s better than the alternative.”

X017 added, “Observation: Participation would allow Douglas to influence outcomes, minimizing personal inconvenience.”

Douglas glared at X017, then back at Jim. “You want me to help you weirdos?”

“Not help. Play along. You keep calling this madness, but deep down, you know it’s the only interesting thing happening here. Don’t ruin it. Be part of it.”

Douglas crossed his arms, glaring. “Interesting? You think this is interesting? It’s insanity. The plants, the shoes, the ties—every time I think it’s over, you throw another curveball! Why should I just ‘play along’?”

Jim leaned against the counter, calm and collected. “Because if you don’t, you’ll be stuck here in the same endless cycle of meetings and jargon with nothing to break the monotony. And let’s face it, Douglas—you’re not quitting. You like having something to fight against.”

Douglas opened his mouth to argue but stopped short. His jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. “Fine. But I swear, if I see one more stupid memo with my name on it—just one—I’m taking this to real HR, and not even the Behavioral and Cultural Alignment Committee will save you.”

Jim grinned, holding out a hand. “Deal.”

Jim grinned. “Deal.” Sensing Douglas wasn’t completely convinced, he led him into the break room to sit by his beloved cactus with a fresh cup of coffee.

X017’s optics flickered. “Observation: Douglas exhibits signs of frustration and skepticism. Clarification: This is consistent with his established personality traits.”

Douglas blinked. “Did… did the robot just insult me?”

“Not insult. Observation,” X017 replied calmly.

Jim grinned. “He’s still working on tone, but he’s getting there.”

Douglas crossed his arms, staring at X017. “So, what’s the deal? You’re just… learning to troll people now?”

X tilted his head. “Sarcasm and mischief appear to strengthen human social bonds. This aligns with my goal of enhanced workplace integration.”

Douglas turned to Jim, his expression somewhere between disbelief and reluctant amusement. “I still say this is insane. You’re insane. And now the robot’s insane.”

Jim leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Maybe. But are you really going to be the guy who shuts this down? The guy who ruins the one interesting thing happening in this place?”

Douglas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. But if I’m doing this, we’re doing it right. None of this stapling-ties nonsense. We need structure.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Structure? For pranks?”

Douglas jabbed a finger into Jim’s chest. “Yes. Structure. Or I’m out.”

Jim grinned. “Welcome to the team, buddy.”

X017 extended a hand, entirely too formal. “Welcome to the alignment initiative.”

Douglas stared at him, then shook his head with a resigned chuckle. “Unbelievable.”