Hall of Infinite Doors
A blurry vision of dollars, graphs, pie charts and dark suited men churn about you, developing in to a thick whirlpool that goes around and around and aroouund and arouuuund and arroooooounnd and
PLOP!!
You are sitting in a battered swivel chair in a small dingy room with a copier, postage machine, random file cabiners and supplies littered hear and there. The tan carpet hasn't been changed in about twenty years. You've seen coats at Salvation Army with more wear left.
On the table in front of you is a note.
"Become CEO."
You reach for it, but it dematerializes before you touch it.
The door opens.
"Heeey, Charrrlie!" says a tall, lanky guy in a voice that a disco dude would use to pick up babes. It's Brian, the office manager. "How-sa the weeek-end, buddy? Score any babes? Uh, yeah." His pressed white shirt and $9.99 tie barely disguise the social inadequacies of a 40-year-old bachelor.
"Look, Charlie," he says, coming to his point, "Harold in editorial says he received Helen's mail. Just between you and me, I know you're new, but let's not have this happen again. Ohhh-Kaye?"
He smiles artificially and leaves the room.
You look at the clock. 2:30. Time to push the mail cart around.
PLOP!!
You are sitting in a battered swivel chair in a small dingy room with a copier, postage machine, random file cabiners and supplies littered hear and there. The tan carpet hasn't been changed in about twenty years. You've seen coats at Salvation Army with more wear left.
On the table in front of you is a note.
"Become CEO."
You reach for it, but it dematerializes before you touch it.
The door opens.
"Heeey, Charrrlie!" says a tall, lanky guy in a voice that a disco dude would use to pick up babes. It's Brian, the office manager. "How-sa the weeek-end, buddy? Score any babes? Uh, yeah." His pressed white shirt and $9.99 tie barely disguise the social inadequacies of a 40-year-old bachelor.
"Look, Charlie," he says, coming to his point, "Harold in editorial says he received Helen's mail. Just between you and me, I know you're new, but let's not have this happen again. Ohhh-Kaye?"
He smiles artificially and leaves the room.
You look at the clock. 2:30. Time to push the mail cart around.