RE: RE: Corporate Team Building Retreat [ end]

"I'm… fired?" dracoon says, hands shaking as they reach for another coffee. The creamer is almost out. There are piles of T-cups all over the floor. Everyone has backed away, except for John Smith and another employee.

The employee shakes their head and repeats their story again, this time much more sternly. During the start of the hour, a projector had found itself dislodged from the ceiling, narrowly missing John Smith. Only the actions of a brave employee, leaping and catching John Smith across the waist and sending the two of them flying into a water cooler saved John Smith from certain death.

One employee would then point to dracoon having a hand in the maintenance of the projector, as maintenance for the P. P. P. Co. headquarters is a very tiny subdivision of all that is Quality Control. It doesn't take much for employees to think dracoon is at fault.

"S-so… let me get this right… I'm fired?" dracoon makes an uneasy, shaky smile. They grasp the air for another cup of coffee. There is no coffee. There is nothing left in dracoon's mind except for endless work reports and projects that have yet to be filed. Overwork has worn them down to the point where they are simply an empty husk living on what little energy caffeine can give them. Their heart is beating and fluttering endlessly, a spinning engine that powers a machine made only for the corporation.

What happens when there is no corporation?

There is nothing.

"I-I'm fired. Fired? Really. Fired."

John Smith eyes dracoon before making a motion to the employee, who calls security to escort dracoon out of the building.

John Smith then orders all T-cups and Teuring machines to be removed from the building, and requests for more water coolers to be installed instead.

John Smith pours himself a cup of water, and takes a long, long drink.

--

A mysterious figure appears at the door. They are attempting to carry a large, plastic folding table into the room. Upon seeing everyone angrily deliberating, they drop the table in shock.

John Smith calls out to them. "Who might you be?" he says, addressing the hooded figure. The hooded figure jumps with a start before turning away, kneading their hands anxiously all the while looking away from John Smith.

"I'm... uh, the Divine Seer Of the Mystery Orb," the figure replies. "I'm... supposed to be at something called the P. P. P. Co. Corporate Retreat, maybe? Is this it?"

It becomes evident that this was the "live entertainment" that John Smith had promised: a fortune teller that someone had cold-called off a series of newspaper classifieds. Some people are unimpressed with the choice of entertainment. Some people are vaguely intrigued by the unorthodox choice.

Between all the mumbling, the "Divine Seer Of the Mystery Orb" shouts out to the crowd.

"Um... I can't... set up in a room full of people. It, uh, disturbs the spirits, you know?" The fortune teller seems anxious. "Could... everyone leave me alone in the room for a bit? Please?"

John Smith tells everyone to clear the room. People can socialize in the hallways, anyways.