So work just got really weird.
I was hitting that afternoon wall (you drones know what I’m talkin’ ’bout!) in terms of motivation and productivity, and my alterego Slothface was about to make an appearance, when suddenly I felt something soft and spongy underneath my too-casual-for-midweek flip flop. I look down at the floor, and it appears my office chair has expelled something from itself.
Now I know that sounds insane. But I’m serious. My office chair has spawned some kind of baby office chair/third armrest/twin that it may have partially eaten in the factory but it finally managed to spew out of its conscience.
Also nearby this chair creature was a fresh ketchup stain that appeared out of nowhere. Yes, ketchup, as in a poor, sticky substitute for blood in an elementary school play!
Is someone trying to frame me? At my desk? With fake blood and office furniture spawn? I, for one, am intrigued.
This is like an R.L. Stine Goosebumps plot*, and I can’t wait to find out what happens next!
Keep it up, Wednesday! We’re almost there (i.e., the weekend! AMIRITE?!)!
*To back my point up further, Wikipedia describes Goosebumps plots as such [my comments in square brackets and sexy italics]:
“The primary protagonist(s) of a Goosebumps story is often situated in a remote location or somehow isolated from typical societal conventions [Totes me!]. This can be as simplistic as comfortable suburban areas, or as exaggerated as boarding schools, foreign villages, campsites, unfamiliar relatives’ homes or oversea areas [Or office cubes! Hello!]. The books in the Goosebumps series usually feature semi-homogenous plot structures with normal kids being, frequently indirectly, involved in scary situations; chapters end in cliffhangers, and after the central conflict has either been or appears to have been resolved, there is often a twist ending [What’s more of a twist than no ending?!]. Also, in his autobiography, R. L. Stine has stated that he often ends chapters in a state of suspense, like a cliffhanger [Bingo bango!].”
