Journal Entry from last night's party: Plankton on the menu

[kerr_avon]

There was a department party last night. Or as the chief idiot likes to call it, a major event. By which he means that he gets to get patted on the back for my work.

The chief idiot waved me over to his circle of fellow intellectually challenged managers, only to hand me his drink and ask for a refill. I don't believe, waiter, is part of my job description. My many talents do not include forced labour.

He never once introduced me to his fellow managers or the Federation lynch mob bigwigs that he was talking to. Of course, I have no right to know anything. In the Federation food chain, I am plankton. When you refer to them later, my shrewd deductions will identify them.

It was such a thoroughly detestable enjoyable experience that the next time, I will come prepared with body armour. Wouldn't want to make it too easy for all the back-stabbers managers.

Next time they decide on the menu guest list, I will strongly recommend that my name not be included.

Note to self: Plan debilitating illness for the next scheduled department party.

Comments

[vila_restal]

I hate to say this since you'll probably use it on me, but don't you mean "inane"? And you only have one talent?

I have some ideas for the next office party. Sponge cupcakes, some of them made from real sponge, the sort they use to package computer bits. You might enjoy seeing your manager trying to get his teeth to meet in one while others enjoy the real ones. Also dog food spread on crackers and called terrine (you know, that coarse pate stuff). I'd suggest crackers made of cardboard too, but you do want them to eat the dog food.

Enough menu ideas for you?

[kerr_avon]

And you only have one talent?

Speak for yourself.

Also dog food spread on crackers and called terrine (you know, that coarse pate stuff).

They might buy eat it if they somehow got the impression that it was a new gourmet delicacy.

[vila_restal]

Well, you used a singular verb with yours. I have many talents, some of them verbal!

Just call it terrine a pays. Alpha snobs'll eat anything with a French name.

[kerr_avon]

Them, how would you like a job as my secretary personal assistant?

[vila_restal]

A.... a job? You must be joking! My profession has better hours and a better boss--me--than what you're offering!

[kerr_avon]

You spotted that I wasn't offering anything. There might be hope for you after all.

Though...I often feel like that in this job.

The job offer is a cover. Personal assistants can roam throughout the building virtually unnoticed. No one will pay attention to you. It will be as if you don't exist, which being a Delta, should be nothing new to you.

Use your imagination. If you possess one.

[vila_restal]

Oh, I do! But I think it would shrivel up and die in that place.

Get out while you still can!

Have you actually considered getting into my line of work as a sideline, and perhaps even a form of revenge?

[kerr_avon]

Dying is not an option.

Escaping Leaving is not as simple for me as it for you, but I am currently exploring various options.

The idea of revenge is not entirely an unreasonable one.