Return of the Office Ninja
As I write this, I am home scrubbing myself clean. The office ninja has returned, another mission accomplished.
I have decided to take next week off. Rather than actually request the week and have it denied, I decided to simply sneak out and conceal my departure.
"But that's impossible, even for you, Lance!" you might say. And it's impossible for a lot of people. But not the Office Ninja.
My plan started in the conference room, during the weekly status meeting. I hummed a stale bagel across the room, into the head of the marketing VP. As an Office Ninja, I know the many pressure points of the human body. I know the ones that can render a man unconcious instantly. I also know the one that makes the receptionist slap me and call HR.
Anyway, as the marketing VP folded like a deck chair, I slipped under the conference table in the confusion. As the company drones wondered what had become of me, I drew out my White Out of invisibility. By removing my clothes and painting my body, I became perfectly camouflaged. In case you're curious, it takes 119 little jars of white out to assume perfect Office Ninja invisibility.
I then darted out from under the table and ran for it. How my coworkers will wonder at the source of the strange white footprints that appear magically in the hall.
In my cube I have left a humonculous that bears a striking resemblance to me. It's powered by a steam engine that runs off Diet Coke. Whenever somebody approaches, it screams out "C'mere, ya savage love monkey!" I figure that will keep people from approaching too often. And as the piece de resistance it periodically sends out emails to the entire company asking questions like "Bug 43288 - Should we release note this?"
Hell, it will probably be even more productive than me. None shall be the wiser.
LM
I have decided to take next week off. Rather than actually request the week and have it denied, I decided to simply sneak out and conceal my departure.
"But that's impossible, even for you, Lance!" you might say. And it's impossible for a lot of people. But not the Office Ninja.
My plan started in the conference room, during the weekly status meeting. I hummed a stale bagel across the room, into the head of the marketing VP. As an Office Ninja, I know the many pressure points of the human body. I know the ones that can render a man unconcious instantly. I also know the one that makes the receptionist slap me and call HR.
Anyway, as the marketing VP folded like a deck chair, I slipped under the conference table in the confusion. As the company drones wondered what had become of me, I drew out my White Out of invisibility. By removing my clothes and painting my body, I became perfectly camouflaged. In case you're curious, it takes 119 little jars of white out to assume perfect Office Ninja invisibility.
I then darted out from under the table and ran for it. How my coworkers will wonder at the source of the strange white footprints that appear magically in the hall.
In my cube I have left a humonculous that bears a striking resemblance to me. It's powered by a steam engine that runs off Diet Coke. Whenever somebody approaches, it screams out "C'mere, ya savage love monkey!" I figure that will keep people from approaching too often. And as the piece de resistance it periodically sends out emails to the entire company asking questions like "Bug 43288 - Should we release note this?"
Hell, it will probably be even more productive than me. None shall be the wiser.
LM
posted by Lance Manion at 4:44 PM
5 Comments:
It's stories like these that make me want a job in an office just so I can something like that happen. Then I remember that I have no skills in a clerical position at all and that I'm the kind of sucker who, in order to see stuff like that, will have to be the one doing that stuff.
And as the piece de resistance it periodically sends out emails to the entire company asking questions like "Bug 43288 - Should we release note this?"
As a former QA guy, I think your own QA department would appreciate it more if your doppelganger sent e-mails in the vein of: "Bug 43288 - This means our product has almost 50,000 defects. Should we hammer shards of broken CDRs under our developers' fingernails, or begin claiming that the pretty blue screen that randomly pops up was customed designed as a stress-relieving interlude by a team of behavioral psychologists and jack the per-chair licensing fee?"
Can we build me a doppleganger for school that will teach English and Latin in my place until this awful cold the children have infected me with is dead and buried?
Sara,
Don't let lack of skills hold you back. Apply for a position in Marketing today! Lack of skills = Vice President.
Rob,
It's really funny that you should mention blue screens in conjunction with our product. It really is...
Amandarama,
How about we cut out the middleman and build a doppleganger that kills and buries the children?
I think it would take 278 bottles of White Out for me. And then there's the fume high I'd get from runnin' and huffin' all at once. I'd collapse, probly. I think I'm gonna hafta devise another method.
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