Shpritz 2000

Vince Twelve

"Stamper, I need those documents on my desk by 5."

Stamper wasn't my name. It was my job. I stamp envelopes.

"You'll have them by 3, Griff."

I used to do pixel art for Mucus Arts back before things sucked, but nowadays, kids just aren't interested in anything unless it has bump mapping. Whatever that is... By the time the Adventure Game was out of style, I was the only person in the office who knew the perfect spot to hit to get the vending machine in the hallway to release its deathgrip on anyone's Snickers. They certainly couldn't fire me.

Meh, it was a job. I may not be directly contributing to games any more (they stopped inviting me to meetings when I kept suggesting adding inventory puzzles to each cookie-cutter action game we churned out), but at least I got free coffee.

Mmm, coffee. I stood up to go get some when I heard a distant, faint 'click!' My head was pointed at the coffee, but my feet started walking towards Griff's office.

"What the heck?" I stopped moving just outside his office. That was weird.

'Click!' My body took control again. This time, my hands reached out on their own and flung open Griff's door.

[Cameron]

Griff stared at me, wondering why I was standing in his office. To be honest, I was wondering the same thing.

“You got those documents for me Stamper?”

”Uh, sure Griff” I replied, hoping I had at least something to give him.

I reached into my pocket fumbling to find anything, and instead I found everything. A stapler, glue, a rubber chicken, laxatives, documents… AHA! I pulled the documents out and handed them to Griff.

“When did I pick all this stuff up?”

”What was that Stamper? Oh, the documents!” Griff gave a smile and returned to his work.

Click! I reached into my pocket and brought out the laxatives. Click! Now the laxatives were in the coffee. I sure as hell wasn’t going to drink that. What the hell was I doing?

Click! I tried putting the coffee on Griff’s desk.

”Those two items won’t work together.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

”What did you say Stamper?”

I tried to process what I was doing, while trying to also process what to say. I felt like I had three options of what to say, and non sequitur didn’t seem overly appropriate, as hilarious as it may be.

“Well Stamper?”

”Um… I brought you coffee?”

uncle-mum

“Did I ask for any damn coffee?”

“...I brought you coffee ...I brought you coffee ...I brought you coffee ...”

My mind was whirling as I continued to spout the same phrase again and again. I tried to turn and run out of the office only to find I could not move - my feet were planted to the floor, my limbs unresponsive. I glanced at Griff who also apeared frozen, an expression of confused, motionless rage plastered onto his face.

And then it went black.

"Stamper, I need those documents on my desk by 5."

I blinked and tried to get my eyes to focus.

“Er... I'll, um... I'll have them with you by 3.”

Had I fallen asleep at my desk again? If I had my dreams had become even more mundane than usual. And why was my mouth so dry? Coffee, that'd help sort this out.

I stood and tried to remain as steady as possible as I looked around the office. Everything seemed normal, the people around me caught up in the countless small jobs that needed to be dealt with before a new title could ship. And then I heard a 'click'.

tzachs

My feet started walking- again! Hmm, maybe it wasn’t a dream. This time, however, I wasn’t walking to Griffs’ office, but to Phil, one of my co-workers. He was holding a cup of coffee, but, the weirdest thing- he didn’t drink the coffee, he didn’t do anything, he just stood there! Wow, talk about freaky stuff…

‘Click’, I saw again in my mind three different options of what to say, and then I heard myself saying “Can you do me a favor? Can you go to Griffs’ office with that cup of coffee and tell him how good the coffee is today?” What? What’s happening?

He said, without even looking at me, “What’s in it for me?”

‘Click’, I saw myself reaching to my endless pockets and showing him the rubber duck. “Why would you think I want that?” That’s exactly what I thought… ‘Click’ once more, my eyes looked at him and then I said “This is Phil, he works with me. He recently had a drug addiction problem but I think he’s ok now.” This all came as news to me.

Another ‘click’ and again my hand reached into my pocket, this time I gave him the glue. What did I think to myself, that because he was a drug addict, he will want the glue? That doesn’t make sense!

Suddenly I heard a cheap clapping hands effect in the background, and then Phil was talking: “Oooooh”, he said, “the Shpritz 2000, this is high quality glue… ok, I’ll do it!” he took the glue and headed to Griffs’ office.

TheJBurger

At that very next moment I was wondering exactly how Phil was fending with the coffee when I seemed to lose control of my perception of reality. Somehow I could see and hear Phil walk into Griff's room, although I had no idea where I was at all. My very position seemed to be fixed from somewhere in Griff's office, though I could not touch or feel anything, and no one was aware I was there. I saw Phil slip the coffee onto Griff's desk and then I watched Griff drink the coffee and pass out.

"Time to get down to business, I suppose," I related back to myself--now conscious and aware of my own presence in the adjacent room, no less due to my out-of-body and goal-enforcing experience.

"Now then..." I thought to myself out loud in a voice I was not sure was audible or not, "Why did I need to get into Griff's office?"

‘Click', and I found myself looking at my trusty notebook. I've had this thing for seven years and it still hasn't run out of pages--great for short-term memory loss people like me.

I flipped open the notebook and looked at the newest entry.

AtelierGames

“Goal objectives,” I found myself reading out loud. “Be deceptive and ask Griff for a pay rise.”

Needless to say, my uncontrollable affliction had by this point attracted many funny looks from my colleagues. I forced a wan smile, and closed the notebook.

Upon my desk remained the heap of letters to affiliates – not one of them stamped. Now the clock showed five minutes to three, I knuckled down to meet the promised deadline. But just as I readied my tongue…

‘Click’. My hand suddenly shot out and grabbed the blue HB pencil from the desk. ‘Click’, and up I was, wielding the pencil in my right hand and walking straight for Griff’s office.

“No!” I tried to scream, but blurted out in its place, “You can’t do that here.”

To my horror, I threw upon the door and rushed into my boss’ office. I was posed with three options. Unfortunately, I took the third option.

“I demand a pay rise!” I said, holding the blunt HB up. Griff only needed one look at it and said:

“What is this, Stamper? Some kind of game? You’re fired for insubordination!”

‘Click’ came that confounded noise. Then, once again, everything went black.

LGM

"Stamper, I need those documents on my desk by 5."

“Okay. In fact, I’ll have them to you by 3, how about that?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Stamper.”

I waited as Griff walked away and then yawned. Coffee. I needed coffee.

Click!

I dug through my pockets and put pulled out the laxatives.

Click!

I put the laxatives in the coffee.

Click!

“Phil!” I said, being led to his desk, “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What is it?” he asked, keeping an eye on his work.

Option 4, “Could you possibly take this coffee into Griff’s office?”

“He can get his own coffee.”

“Well, I want you to drink it in front of him. So he can realize how good it is. I made my special batch, you see, and I want him to know I can do more than just stamping.”

“Hmmm. Okay. What’s in it for me?”

Click!

I handed him the glue. Off he went. And then there I was again, a fly on the wall, watching as Phil entered Griff’s office. He sat in the chair across from the desk and took a huge sip of the coffee. “Mmmm,” he exclaimed.

“Can I help you, Phil?”

“Oh, no. I just needed a nice place to take a drink of this delicious coffee. And—“

A large grumble came from Phil’s abdomen.

The Ivy

Griff and I both turned to stare at him in alarm.

“AAAAAauuugh!” Phil cried, doubling over in pain. “Stamper, what did you do to this coffee?”

“You idiot!” I heard myself say. “That was supposed to be for Griff!”

Griff’s mouth hung open for a few moments, and then he turned his gaze on me. He pushed his bulk out of his chair and lumbered towards me—fast.

“What in the name of all get-out are you trying to pull here, Stamps??” he demanded, baring his teeth. “Did holding a stamp get too difficult? Huh?” He stood on his toes , bringing his face just inches from mine.

“You can’t take the stress of the job and so you decide to poison me?? Well, if you’re going to try to get out of this one, you better think of something fast!”

Click.

For a dizzying moment, nothing happened. I felt a strange, evil chill travel through me, and I struggled to keep my arms by my sides. Then, as though I was watching a cutscene, my right hand went to my pocket. I hefted my stapler and hit old man Griff right in the side of the head.

He hit the ground. Everything went black.

Andorxor

"Stamper, I need those documents on my desk by 5."

“Okay. In fact, I’ll have them to you by 3, how about that?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Stamper.”

I waited as Griff walked away and then yawned. Coffee. I needed coffee.

Click!

I dug through my pockets and put pulled out the laxatives wonder why I or the power that controls me still thinks that putting laxatives in the coffee of my boss will get me a raise.

Click!

I suddenly have the urge to look in every corner of the office. Under a desk is something glittering.I shortly wonder how something in the shadows can glitter than

Click!

I take the object it’s a quarter

Click!

I buy a cup of decaffeinated coffee at the automat

Click!

Back to Phil

Click!

The laxative is in the normal coffee again

TheJBurger

I explain to Phil the situation again but give him the decaff coffee.

“Ooh! Decaff!” he proclaims.

“Now give the regular coffee to Griff this time, okay?” I request.

Phil goes into Griff’s office and the whole exchange is repeated before my eyes. This time, Griff drinks the correct coffee and then makes an unbearably gesticulate face before rushing off to the bathroom, leaving the office all to myself.

As soon as I regain control of my vital limbs for transportation, I *Click* walk over to Griff’s office.

Inside the office I find that I cannot touch many objects in the room, including pointless switches, fans, and tiny books. Instead, I am drawn to a shiny cabinet against the side of the wall.

“This is where he keeps the payroll!”

Click!

I pull out my document to change the number.

Suddenly I remembered that I left the white-out marker at home, and there was no possible option of getting another one in the entire world because that was my white-out marker, and it was the only white-out marker I can use to solve this puzzle, I mean, problem.

“Oh, crud… I’m stuck.”

Click, click, Quit.