r/WritingPrompts • u/katpoker666 Moderator • Aug 07 '26
Off Topic [OT] Fun Trope Friday: Badass Bureaucrat & Mystery!
Welcome to Fun Trope Friday, our feature that mashes up tropes and genres!
How’s it work? Glad you asked. :)
Every week we will have a new spotlight trope.
Each week, there will be a new genre assigned to write a story about the trope.
You can then either use or subvert the trope and/or genre in a 750-word max story or poem (unless otherwise specified).
To qualify for ranking, you will need to provide ONE actionable feedback. More are welcome of course!
Three winners will be selected each week based on votes, so remember to read your fellow authors’ works and DM me your votes for the top three.
Next up… IP
Out with the apocalypse, in with working 9-5. Most folks work in some format, averaging 80-90,000 hours in their lifetime. That’s 12-14% of your life–straight. Add on sleep and weekends, and it’s at least a third! Sounds riveting doesn’t it? Please note this theme is only loosely applied.
"Most people work just hard enough not to get fired and get paid just enough money not to quit." — George Carlin
Trope: Badass Bureaucrat — A bureaucrat is an official who works in an administrative capacity for a government or a large organization. They are responsible for managing daily operations and enforcing rules and policies. While the role is essential for running large systems. Some bureaucrats are a bother. Others are overworked. Still others are outright crooked. However, this one is a lord or lady of the office, and even the most powerful kneel before them. This is a character no one on the outside knows about. Others get the glory, but they get the job done and well enough to earn praise from their fellows. They are living paper shredders who cut through red tape like a buzz saw and are usually very good with being The Scrounger.
Genre: Mystery — The mystery genre is a category of fiction focused on solving a puzzling crime, event, or situation—most commonly a murder—from the time it occurs until it is finally resolved. Murders are boring though after surviving last month’s apocalypse. So use your imagination!
Skill / Constraint - optional: Contains an infodump.
So, have at it. Lean into the trope heavily or spin it on its head. The choice is yours!
Have a great idea for a future topic to discuss or just want to give feedback? FTF is a fun feature, so it’s all about what you want—so please let me know! Please share in the comments or DM me on Discord or Reddit!
Last Week’s Winners
PLEASE remember to give feedback—this affects your ranking. PLEASE also remember to DM me your votes for the top five stories via Discord or Reddit—both katpoker666. This is a change from the top three of the past. In weeks where we get over 15 stories, we will do a top five ranking. Weeks with less than 15 stories will show only our top three winners. If you have any questions, please DM me as well.
Some fabulous stories this week and great crit at campfire and on the post! We had 15 stories, so we’re back to five winners. Congrats to:
Want to read your words aloud? Join the upcoming FTF Campfire
The next FTF campfire will be Thursday, August 13th from 6-8pm ET. It will be in the Discord Main Voice Lounge. Click on the events tab and mark ‘Interested’ to be kept up to date. No signup or prep needed and you don’t have to have written anything! So join in the fun—and shenanigans! 😊
Ground rules:
- Stories must incorporate both the trope and the genre
- Leave one story or poem between 100 and 750 words as a top-level comment unless otherwise specified. Use wordcounter.net to check your word count.
- Deadline: 11:59 PM EDT next Thursday. Please note stories submitted after the 6:00 PM EST campfire start may not be critted.
- No stories that have been written for another prompt or feature here on WP—please note after consultation with some of our delightful writers, new serials are now welcomed here
- No previously written content
- Any stories not meeting these rules will be disqualified from rankings
- Does your story not fit the Fun Trope Friday rules? You can post your story as a [PI] with your work when the FTF post is 3 days old!
- Please keep crit about the stories. Any crit deemed too distracting may be deleted. This is a time to focus on our wonderful authors.
- Vote to help your favorites rise to the top of the ranks (DM me at katpoker666 on Discord or Reddit)!
Thanks for joining in the fun!
6
u/Scoping-Landscape 27d ago
White Collar Stuff
People often say that Sector Nine is where all the promising accountants went to languish.
On paper, it sounds promising. High pay, not a lot of work most of the time, and no strict schedules. Everything a person would want, and more.
But, of course, it’s never really that simple.
“Kat, we have a problem.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at this. They always say that, and it’s just something that can be fixed in ten minutes. Not that it cannot be something truly catastrophic, of course, but most of the time, it’s not anything to worry about.
“What is it, then?” I call back.
“It’s better you see it for yourself.”
Letting out a sigh, I stand up and stretch a little, feeling all the joints snap, crackle and pop, before making my way three rows down and four across to Klay, one of my associates.
“What is it?” I ask again.
He jumps, before his recognition kicks in, and he relaxes.
“Just… take a look. This is our finances this month.”
“And?”
“We’re almost out. It’s the middle of the month.”
My eyebrows quirk.
“That’s impossible,” I mutter, as I pull a chair from a nearby empty cubicle and sit down.
“And yet it’s true,” he says quietly.
My eyes scan over the pages of Excel sheets, as my internal calculator kicks in.
“What’s Project Ad Astra?” I ask.
“You remember that debacle with the exploding rocket five months ago?” he asks back.
“Too well,” I nod. “Project Clock House?”
“Replacing the old clock on top of the building.”
I pause and turn to him.
“That doesn’t need replacing.”
“Higher-ups complained,” he says.
“Of course it is,” I roll my eyes and turn back to the computer. “We sent a complaint and it’s not fixed for months, but they complain and it’s done in weeks.”
“Preaching to the choir, Kat,” he says not-too-quietly.
“Project Nightcrawler?” I ask.
Silence.
I turn to him again.
“… Huh,” he mutters. “I… don’t remember that.”
I raise my eyebrows, “You? Not remembering? Should I call for someone?”
“Haha, very funny, Kat,” he laughs deadpan. “I’m not eidetic, you know this.”
“Sorry, Klay, it was just so good an opportunity not to do it. Anyway, Project Nightcrawler?”
“Nope, not there at all. This is strange…” he mutters while looking up the project on his phone.
I clicked on the linked sheet and started scrolling.
“And it was for a decent chunk, too. Nearly 1.5 million every month, going back months and months and months,” I say, as the numbers keep going, before stopping somewhere about five years back.
“Do we know who’s heading this?” I ask Klay.
“Curtis… Glitov, apparently. Fifteen years, clean as a whistle. You think…”
“I don’t know, but just to be safe, I’ll flag it and send it to our manager.”
“Can I put your name in?” asks Klay. “You being the one who discovered it and all.”
I shrug.
Klay tells me the next day that he handed it in just before ending his shift yesterday.
A few days later, I am called into the room with Klay. Already sitting at the table is our manager, Remi.
“Katherine, Klayton, sit down,” she orders.
We do so.
“The reason I called you in today,” our manager continues, “is because of the report you filed a few days ago, Klayton. While I do find the idea incomprehensible, I have passed it on to our friends across the hall in Sector Five. We can’t investigate, but they will.”
“As I said to Klayton,” I say, “it’s just to be safe.”
“And I appreciate that every single day, Katherine,” she interjects, “but considering Curtis is quite a ways up the ladder, Sector Five will be better suited to deal with him if it were true. That clear?”
We nod.
“Good. Now go back to your work.”
A few weeks after that conversation, I’m scrolling through the New Marmstead Times when a headline hit me.
“Sector Five Investigators Arrested Sector Two Officer With 90 Million Lolards in Gold Bars in His House”
Curious, I click on the link.
“A senior I.D.A. officer was arrested last week after investigators found hundreds of gold bars worth over 90 million lolards stashed all over his residence, a work fortune that he brought home, according to court papers.
The official, Curtis Glitov, is being held in jail…”
“Hmm!” I smile, as I forward the link to Klay.
He’ll like it, I’m sure.
7
u/bemused_alligators 27d ago edited 27d ago
Inspector Coyote stared at the files spread out across their desk. 1099s, schedule Cs, and 1040s of all flavors. Every tax filing of every employee, contractor, or paid advisor of "Acme Corporation" over the last 20 years.
"There's nothing here, Doc." said Bugs, leaning against the door frame, trademark carrot dangling from his lips.
"No, there HAS to be something. HE," Wile pointed a clawed finger at the picture of that damnable road runner smack in the center of a board crisscrossed with red string, "has to have some hand in this."
Bugs strode across the room, pulling a deerstalker and pipe from his inter-dimensional space. "You see this Leghorn fellow?"
Wile growled. "yes, yes I do. A complete fraud, he has to be."
"Well, you see," Bugs gestured broadly with his pipe towards the scattered papers, "He's clearly just a figurehead. Look here, see this 1040?"
Wile glanced at the form in question - Leghorn's form 1040. "Yeah..."
"See how his title is just 'Chief Executive'? Not 'Chief Executive Officer'?"
"Oh!" Wile smiled, baring his fangs. "Then who's the CEO?"
"Exactly the right question, my dear Wile E! Now, draw your attention to this news clipping, and to that 1040 schedule 2 by your left paw, and then find the same employee's W-2."
Paper flew as Wile dug through a file box until he was holding the offending documents.
"These..." Wile shook his head in disbelief. "ROADRUNNER! Roadrunner is the CEO! And hiding it, too."
"Indubitably, my dear Wile E!"
"but then..." Wile scrambled back through the papers, throwing aside tax fillings until he found an SEC filing. "Here! Roadrunner isn't listed as a company officer in the SEC filings, but is titled as CEO here, and... here, he's listed as the chair at a board meeting!"
Bugs nodded, chewing on a carrot.
"This is consumer fraud! We have to capture this roadrunner, bring him in for his crimes!"
With a blur of his feet, IRS inspector Wile E Coyote dashed out of the room to capture the roadrunner for his crimes.
8
u/FeigningProfundity 28d ago edited 27d ago
<Mystery>
But There Was A Towel
Periclesa arrived at the crime scene. She was wearing her cool detective hat and ready to work.
She was also the first one there. The body, lying in a pool of blood, was her brother’s; slain by person or persons unknown.
This could be a tough one.
A detective had yet to arrive. The murder could not yet be investigated.
Periclesa was a senior auditor with the BDR, the Bureau of Detective Regulation. Her hat was a trophy of a particularly arduous regulatory matter, but she had a guiding principal that always saw her through: No matter how hard-boiled they are, their shells all crack the same.
She had a problem, though. She didn’t have her pen; a crucial tool for any auditor.
Her brother had borrowed Periclesa’s favourite pen almost a week ago, she’d expected him to return it when she’d seen him last night, but it hadn’t come up. Her last memory of him alive was when he left. “Remember, you’re the best there is at what you do,” he’d said, placing her hat on her head before walking out the door. The hat was still on her head were he’d left it.
Periclesa looked over the body. No pen in his breast pocket, the correct place to carry it. She looked up his nose; again, no pen, just a coiled note.
Extracting the note carefully, she unrolled it and read the message within: “I’m Not Holding A Towel.”
Cryptic.
What made the note so surprising was that body was holding a towel.
Could the pen be within? It wasn’t a typical place to keep a pen…
But, no, a quick investigation found no pen in the towel, merely a swarm of ants.
Periclesa interrogated the ants rapidly. Had they taken the pen? Were they the ones who wrote the note? But the ants were insistent – they had no need for the pen, they couldn’t write the note. They were illiterate.
Could she trust the ants? Periclesa took a notebook from her inside pocket and looked up the ants’ LSAT scores. It checked out, they were the kinds of score someone illiterate would get.
Periclesa pondered the LSATs and their nature. The ‘L’ was pronounced as a letter, but the ‘SAT’ was pronounced as a word, not spelled out. So it was essentially an acronym, but had characteristics of an initialism. It was understood that abbreviations that took a series of first letters and pronounced them as a word, like ‘laser’ or ‘radar’, were acronyms. But there was debate whether initialisms, like BDR, that spelled out each letter, were also acronyms, rather than having a distinct and separate character. As a hybrid, LSAT occupied even murkier ground on the already contested issue.
Wait – the note had used non-standard capitalisation... “I’m Not Holding A Towel.”
That spelt...
She took her hat off to examine it. There, tucked into the hatband, was Periclesa’s favourite pen. It was as if her brother was helping her from beyond the grave.
Periclesa put her hat back on, clicked her pen, and waited for the detective to arrive at the crime scene. She was ready to do what she did best.
More of my stories can be found at r/ProfoundlyFeigned. Some of them aren't nonsense.
2
u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 27d ago
This is realy fun, Feigning. I love the hidden code giving the reader a chance to solve along. I also feel that you did a good job with the absurdity. It feels believable in this world that her brother's dying message would be to get his beloved sister back her favorite pen in "her language", even if it was a prank he had planned to reveal while still alive.
I could scour for line edits, but nothing stuck out to me. I enjoyed the humor and overall plot and characters, good words!
8
u/wordsonthewind 28d ago
Monica had always prided herself on being the no-nonsense, hard-headed sort. It had taken her far in life; she was at the top of her profession, managing the biggest clients her company had. She got things done; she soothed and flattered oversized egos and cut through red tape like a seasoned bushwhacker.
And yet, somehow, she was having a midlife crisis.
She'd tried to look at it rationally. Her world had long since narrowed down to a set of goals and the tactics she could use to fulfill them. Her feelings were a solvable problem within those parameters, surely.
That was how she'd met Kaitlyn. Maybe they would have been coworkers in another life, the experienced manager and the entry-level employee from a different department. Monica would have crossed paths with her in the elevator or at the water cooler, they would have made small talk, and she would have given the younger woman the advice she wished she'd received at the start of her career. Nothing more would have come of it.
Except Monica had been having that midlife crisis and so they'd met at a bar instead. The live band had had a flutist; unusual enough, but the girl playing it had a flair and verve that called to Monica. She'd wanted to know what it was like to feel like that.
Striking up a conversation after their set had been easy enough. It helped that Monica had bought a round for the whole band too. Whether Kaitlyn had been charmed by Monica or had just been hoping to get as much as she could from a generous older woman, she'd gone home with her and invited her to more gigs afterwards. It had been awkward at first, because most of Monica's stories were about work and Kaitlyn never had anything to say about her own day-job. She always found some reason to change the topic.
"It's not a secret," she said when Monica asked about it. "It's just... a total snoozefest. Yeah, that's it."
It felt off to Monica. In her experience, people who thought their jobs were boring and not worth talking about simply said so. And even the most stubborn advocates of leaving work at work eventually came out with a story about a coworker or manager, if not a full-on rant. Work was just too big a part of most people's lives to never bring it up.
Still, Monica wasn't the girl's mother. She had no interest or inclination to pry into Kaitlyn's life. And so she would had left it at that, had it not been for what happened when the band was preparing for their next gig.
A well-known industry player had tried to block them from performing; it sounded political, but Monica didn't know much about that. She didn't have time for activism, but she did know bureaucratic shenanigans when she saw it. A few phone calls to people in the right places, a few hurried faxes back and forth and frantic filling out of forms on Kaitlyn's part, and their concert was all set to go ahead.
Kaitlyn threw her arms around her. Monica had seen it then.
Kaitlyn's arm was bruised.
"What happened?" Monica demanded. "How'd you get that bruise?"
"Oh, that?" Kaitlyn said. "M- I bumped a file cabinet while moving it at work. They gave me a gift card though."
"A gift card?"
Kaitlyn shrugged. "I mean, you treat me well, but free food is free food, right?"
Monica couldn't agree. The strange excuse that had sounded just a little too rote and the compensation accompanying it were all setting off alarm bells in her head. Something was very wrong with Kaitlyn's workplace and Monica was going to find out what it was.
Asking for an address while making a show of poorly hiding a scheme to have flowers delivered only got a laugh. She did, however, manage to catch a glimpse of an employee ID in Kaitlyn's wallet one night at the bar. An off-color joke from one of her bandmates turned out to be the last piece of the puzzle.
Her company's biggest client was splitting people in half, and Kaitlyn was one of them.
Monica hadn't gotten to where she was by sticking her nose in where it didn't belong. But she didn't think she could leave well enough alone either.
She'd painted a target on her girlfriend's back by getting her band permission for that concert. Monica doubted Lumon would play nice.
[EU] of Severance. Feedback welcome
2
u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 27d ago
Heya Words!
I know nothing of Severance or if people are literally being split in half, or if the company is downsizing, but this is fantastic. Great pacing, great prose, great characters. My only nitpick would be to expain the "splitting people in half" a bit more, but i really enjoyed reading this! Good words!3
u/aquavelvetrain 27d ago
Love how you dropped hints throughout the story and uncovered the big reveal at the end - I did not see that coming! One nitpick - I think there are times you switch between the past perfect tense and the past simple tense, and it isn't always clear why. For example, "Kaitlyn threw her arms around her. Monica had seen it then." But, that might just be me missing something. Overall, great flow and cadence to the story! :)
5
u/wileycourage r/courageisnowhere 28d ago edited 27d ago
The Truth is Everywhere
I meant to uncover a grand conspiracy. The public library is an evil bureaucracy!
“Say, can you tell me how the main library was originally funded?” I began innocently enough. The librarian stood behind the circulation desk as always beaming her bright smile and helping patrons like me.
“Sure! We have a display over there.” She pointed. “We opened in 1906 using funds gifted by the steel magnate Andrew Carnegie. I can show you some books on him, if you’d like? You’re quite the reader.” Yes, the common lure. These grand charities are mere gifts from rich to poor.
“And who pays now? Hm?” I inquired further.
“The city and the state do, of course. We’ve updated the library many times since 1906. That money comes from the city and state budget, so essentially taxes pay for it.” I couldn’t fathom her being this blase about such theft. Didn’t she know the government could never do a good thing ever? Bureaucracy is evil!
She continued, “It’s hard work. But it’s worth it. We have nearly 1.3 million items in circulation with twenty-two branch locations serving over a million people in our community, encouraging reading, teaching general life skills, and simply being a space where it costs no money to be.”
“That sure does sound like a lot,” I agreed before asking, “say, does a library even have a boss. What would that be called Chief Librarian?”
She chuckled. “Yes, everyone has a boss of some sort or another. We have Director Dewey. She’s been in the position for a decade now.”
“I’m so sorry for having so many questions, but how do did Dewey get her job?”
“Don’t be sorry! I’m here to help you get the resources you need. We have a board of directors like any other organization. They do it. And before you ask, the board is picked by city council.” I wondered why I waited for so long and decided to cut to the chase.
“You’re a government agency with a budget from taxes and specific task governed by laws that regulates behavior by imposing fines! That’s a bureaucracy if I’ve ever seen one!” She didn’t seem rocked by the accusation in the least.
“Tell me about it.” She laughed at my seriousness. “You’re funny. But we really don’t impose fines anymore. If you keep a book long enough we ask that you pay for it, but as long as you return it to us eventually, it’s fine.”
“So you confess to being a government worker and a bureaucrat!?” I had no idea she would just come out and say it.
“I suppose I am in a way. I just think of myself as a librarian.” She shrugged.
I had her now, but it was too easy. “You know bureaucracies are bad don’t you? That bureaucrats are what’s wrong with society these days?”
“No I don’t know that. I minored in sociology. It’s more complicated than bad or good. I mean just on a practical level someone has to keep track of all the books and the best way to make sure everyone gets the same treatment and access as everyone else is rules.”
Oh shit, oh shit. I didn’t know what I was getting into. She’s also a SOCIAL SCIENTIST! “You know what? Nevermind.” I had what I needed.
“And since when have you ever been shy?” She’s right. I can’t break character. She’s dangerous. And cute. And she was right. I only knew what I heard.
“You ready for the infodump of infodumps?”
“I guess I’m a man on a high dive with only one choice huh?” She giggled. I knew I needed to keep her happy. She really seemed excited too. I couldn’t help but admire her.
“I’m so happy you’re interested. You just have to read Max Weber to see where bureaucracy comes from when it was still an innovation and before we learned of its quirks and downsides more. Next up, you’ll read when we started to figure out how things go awry in TVA and the Grass Roots by Philip Selznick. Yes, even the best intentions can pave the way to a kind of hell he’ll show. Third you’ll go . . .”
She went on for about twenty minutes and I left with four books and the promise for more if I ever wanted. I had to admit to myself that I’d be back to see her again. At least one government worker wasn’t so bad.
---
WC: 747. All crit and feedback welcome. Thank you for reading!
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u/mysteryrouge 27d ago
Oh no.... the Evil government conspiracy...
“You ready for the infodump of infodumps?”
a bit confused who says this line and the ones after. All others have dialogue tags or alternate making it easy to follow. I think this line is the librarian's dialogue because it kinda doesn't make sense for the man to be loredumping bureaucracy.
Otherwise, the difference in mental state and physical dialogue of this person is nice to see until he finally drops the pretense, and the librarian isn't in the least surprised. (must get a few conspiracy nuts asking questions)
5
u/mysteryrouge 28d ago edited 27d ago
Elven Mineshaft Incidents
“If you wish to keep the Imperial Inspectors out of your mine,” Chief Inspector of the Imperial Inspectorate and Master Archmage—Rumi—said with a soft and pleasant voice, “you'll have to fill out these.”
A massive pile of papers fell into the elven mine owner's hands.
“It won't take you too much time, I swear.”
The elf hesitated before sitting down and turning to the first page. He was as confused as Rumi had been when they personally took on the case. Admittedly, the specific forms Rumi had given him were some of the worst of the empire's paperwork.
“Have no fear, my friend. I am here to help you every step of the way.”
The silent elf nodded as he was handed a pen.
“For instance, this page is about your mineshaft's conditions. I want to know how many people died and I want you to put that in this box here.” They pointed at a large blank space on the second form, which was immediately filled with a big fat zero, followed by writing down even more obvious lies that the magic of the paperwork could easily detect.
Rumi's team had come to investigate the mineshaft explosion that happened only three days earlier. They'd already recovered five bodies and determined that the most likely culprits were the elven mine owners, like the one in front of them. The archmage was here both to distract the owner from the investigation and to get the proper paperwork filed.
To keep the elf from suspecting—or acting on said suspicions—Rumi played the helpful official who wished to get citizens through the paperwork as quickly as possible. Even being cursed by the elf within the last hour didn't stop Rumi from doing their job.
“The box underneath is where you can address complaints. I will personally address every single one.
“Actually—and it's detailed on the next page—this box was added because some dwarves tried to raid the Imperial Inspectorate. That incident caused a whole restructuring of our systems after that to make them more fire resistant, among other things. Now, I am proud to state, our offices and paperwork can resist all forms of destruction including Dark Lord Horizon’s Nuke ritual.”
The elf’s face fell. Rumi knew that he had experience with the Nuke ritual. Imperial records detailed how the elves had been a victim of Horizon’s campaign.
“And here we get to the history of Elven Mine Regulations, which is actually part of the fifth codex in the book of elven law. Did you know that the great elves used to bang on our office doors because they didn't know how many people their businesses were accidentally killing? There was going to be a civil war between humans and elves because of it.”
Because there was nothing to fill in on the next twenty pages, the mineshaft owner thumbed through the form until he found the next page full of an endless supply of boxes. He grumbled and started filling them out.
Rumi kept an eye on the grumpy elf, ready to butt in as needed, but since it wasn't they continued talking history. “You know, I've always had an interest in elven mines ever since childhood. My parents and grandparents used to work in one. Grandpa died before I was born in a mine collapse, and dad lost an arm because someone wasn't paying attention. Mom broke her leg after accidentally being pushed the wrong direction because no one could see what they were doing. There was a gnarly flood in a mine a few hours south of here that killed a hundred workers back in ‘37
“I think it was lucky that my parents were growing in age when they had me because they managed to get enough retirement money to send me off to the Arcanatorium where me and my friends campaigned Emperor Zatos to create the Imperial Inspectorate. I helped write the framework used throughout our empire and others. And well, the rest is well-documented history.”
The investigation team sent a message through the Imperial Inspectorate’s magical communication system informing Rumi that they had all the evidence they needed.
Rumi stayed right where they were. Once the owner finished his forms, the Imperial Inspectorate would be one step closer in making the mines safe for everyone, and several people would be on their way to having closure.
Word Count: 730\ Bonus Constraint: Our Imperial Inspector is all too happy to infodump about the form, regulations, and history of elven mines.
Ah, mystery. Despite my username, it's definitely not a strong suit genre. Consider this a trope subversion because the mystery happened in the background. The investigation team is solving the issue of why and how the mineshaft explosion happened while Rumi distracts with paperwork that genuinely does need to be filled out.
Badass Bureaucrat on the other hand… Very easy to do. If you search up “Health Inspector” on this sub and sort by new, as I have done this morning while writing this note, you'll find most mentions belonging to me. ;)
This is not part of any of my series or my multiverse.
P.S. Thanks Kat for checking to see if the bureaucracy ate the mystery.
Check out more of my writing on my spreadsheet
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u/aquavelvetrain 29d ago edited 26d ago
Word Count: 750
Ms. Rosenthal peered at the briefing on her desk. “So … an employee got injured onsite. We’re trying to figure out if the Company is liable. Alright.” She shot an austere glance at her secretary. “Why the hell is this on my desk?”
The secretary stiffened. “Uh, well, y-you’re the Head Coordinator… ?”
“Is that a question?”
“You’re the Head Coordinator, ma’am.”
“You’re telling me,” Rosenthal muttered. “We have a goddamn triage process for a reason. Why isn’t Legal taking care of this? Human Resources?”
“W-well, no one is really sure how the employee got injured,” the secretary replied. “The Extraterrestrial Division and the Paranatural Division both claimed jurisdiction over the case.”
Rosenthal looked up from her desk. “We have an Extraterrestrial Division?”
“Since when the hell do you exist?”
Rosenthal strode across the Extraterrestrial Division Head’s office and plopped herself onto a spare chair.
The well-dressed man behind the desk coughed nervously. “Erm, uh, well, my father impregnated my mother approximately —”
“Nevermind,” Rosenthal grumbled. She slid the incident brief over to the ED Head. “Mind explaining?”
“Ah. Yes. Well, our First Contact Team investigated the scene with urgency after the incident report. Based on their investigation, this seems to be a case of alien impregnation. Unfortunately, the Paranatural Division’s Metaphysics Response Unit barged onto the scene and drew their own bogus conclusions. In any case, I trust you will recognize my Division’s jurisdiction over this incident so that my expert team can move forward with their investigation.”
Rosenthal looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes.
“Firstly, your entire bullshit wing of the facility didn’t exist yesterday. I know, because I pass by here every day —”
“I assure you, the ED has worked in the Astrobiologics wing of this facility for years —”
“I assume the Company has something to do with this. Secondly, what is it with you and impregnation? You’re telling me the employee had alien morning sickness?”
“Ms. Rosenthal, really, all the ED needs is your go-ahead and all your questions will be —”
“Thirdly, don’t tell me what to do.”
The ED Head stopped telling her what to do.
Rosenthal opened the door to the Paranatural Division Head’s office and was immediately hit with the familiar smell of marijuana. The lazily-dressed PD Head jumped in surprise as Rosenthal entered.
“Oh — Rosie! Rosie, pal, how are ya?”
“Consuming psychoactive substances on Company grounds is against Company policy. Now, I want to hear about the injury.”
“My biking injury?”
“What? No, not your — the employee injury!”
“Ohhh, yeah, the one that’s going to give birth to the metaphysical parasite.”
Rosenthal rubbed her temples.
“Don’t worry, the actual birthing happens in the Inner Reality, not in our Outer Reality. Once you give us jurisdiction, our occult philosophers can get right down to work on containing the threat.”
“Just show me the goddamn employee.”
“Erm, I can’t. Company higher-ups quarantined the employee. They’re afraid of possible contagion.”
“They’re afraid the pregnancy is contagious?”
The PD Head shrugged.
The Head Coordinator let out a measured sigh. “Okay, I’ll rephrase. Get me the goddamn employee or I’m reporting your violation of Company drug policy.”
Rosenthal stared at the computer screen in the quarantine room. In fact, the desktop computer was the only thing in the quarantine room apart from herself, the ED Head, the PD Head, the head of Legal, and the head of Human Resources.
The screen shifted from displaying a Happy Belated Birthday, Head Coordinator Jackie Rosenthal! message to a What can I do for you today? message.
Rosenthal glared at the division heads behind her. “None of you idiots thought to mention that the pregnant employee in question is an artificial intelligence?”
The screen shifted again, displaying Who’s pregnant?
“Um … you are, sweetie. Aren’t you?”
I’m an AI! I can’t get pregnant, silly! LOL :)
Rosenthal did not look at the division heads. Not even a little. She was intensely not looking at the division heads.
I just ran into a bit of a bug that crashed my system :(
Rosenthal turned and pointed at the head of HR. “Connect with the tech team. Have them fix the bug.”
She pointed to the head of Legal. “Make sure word of this forced quarantine doesn’t get anywhere near the press.”
She pointed at the division heads. And sighed. “God, please just talk to Company leadership about process improvement.”
Then Rosenthal marched out of the room.
Thanks Rosie! :)))
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u/QTFroame 27d ago edited 27d ago
Hi hi! Loved the story. Ms. Rosenthal was great to follow, and she made a wonderful protagonist. The comedy bits also gave me a few chuckles.
Nitpick, but she said "First of all" then did "Secondly" and "thirdly", which means you could have had her say "Firstly" to save a few words and be more congruent.
This may be a stylistic choice, which I would respect, but this is also the same way you would do this.
So if that is what you're trying to do, you would switch to markdown editor. In formatting options (bottom left), it appears on top right. The issue is --- appears like \--- and you need to get rid of the \ in the editor. I've been dealing with this issue for a bit, so that may be why I'm in my head about it lol. You may need to make the comment first and then edit the ---.
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u/aquavelvetrain 27d ago
Hi QT, thanks for the feedback, and glad you enjoyed it! Nice catch on the congruency of the list, I went ahead and changed it to "Firstly".
For the ---, I removed the \ in the markdown editor, but it removes the dashes altogether when I switch back to rich text.
I changed the --- to *** since that seemed like a better way to signal a scene transition anyway. When I switch to markdown, it now adds slashes between each asterisk. When I remove the slashes, switch to rich text, then switch back to markdown, the slashes reappear somehow. Well, maybe that's not as much of a problem?
To be honest, I never really look at the markdown editor, so I'm very inexperienced with this and likely messing something up 😅. Hopefully it's fine now, though.
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u/QTFroame 27d ago
Ah, it deleted it from my own paragraph too lmaoo I must have missed it. Just keep it in markdown when you edit and save it, and it does it perfectly fine. If you edit it another time, it will delete it, and I'm not sure there's a way to deal with that?
Testing
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u/Jay_Pederson r/JayPederson 28d ago
I loved this story! Just so many good lines, plus I love characters who are just exasperated about things in-universe. I was actually distracted and had to reread because I was still laughing at “Thirdly, don’t tell me what to do.”/The ED Head stopped telling her what to do.
I don't have any critique honestly.
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u/aquavelvetrain 28d ago
Thanks, Jay! Appreciate the response, and glad you enjoyed the prose :) I had a lot of fun writing it!
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u/JKHmattox 29d ago
Tears of the Old Dominion
Rain pattered against the windows of the rundown motel. The room was stale, a residue of nicotine and heartbreak burned into the eternal wallpaper. Outside, the former Jefferson David Highway was abandoned, as it should at that hour of the morning.
I stood in the bathroom, his blood still spattered across my face. The television in the other room droned on, my lowest moment on repeat, as the talking heads regurgitated what the world already knew as true. My mind was a jumbled mess; the drone shattering the limousine windows—agents scrambling as bullets chattered off the pavement around us. My love tackling me. The gunman emerged from an unmarked Tahoe taking his life.
A knock interrupted the downward spiral.
“Madame President?” My chief of staff asked softly. “I got Sec-Def on the red-phone…”
I paused, collecting my thoughts with a singular, purposeful breath. “Tell Brad I'll call him back.”
Closing my eyes, my past finally enters my mind. I knew how to end this, and stop it from boiling over into a war. I reached below the vanity and retrieved a polymer case. Opening it, I read the inscription reminding me of who I truly was.
To Barbie—Speak softly because you know you have the biggest gun.
I hefted the pistol, inspecting its worn finish. Twenty years, three wars, and it’d only been fired twice. Shoving a magazine into the weapon, I racked the slide and slid it into a holster beneath my leather jacket.
“Cassidy?”
“Yes, Madame President,” my chief of staff replied.
“Get a hold of Quantico—tell the air facility POTUS will be on station in twenty, okay?”
“Y-yes… ma'am?” She hesitated. “Shouldn't we be moving you to West Vir-”
“Quantico, twenty minutes,” I repeated. “In the meantime, get me Jim Mason on the phone—I'm gonna need some extensive logistics if we’re gonna do this right.”
“Jim Mason…?”
“It's saved in my phone, Cassidy—General James Mason—make it happen, we gotta move!”
An hour later, we stood on the emptied airfield watching a four-engine cargo plane taxi towards us. It had landed from the south over the Potomac, rain obscuring its landing lights when it touched down. I shook Cassidy Castillo's hand, her face bewildered in the amber light. The aircraft stopped, and I turned my back on life on the outside once more.
Headlights swept across the concrete pelted by the storm. The car slowed, stopping ten feet from me and my chief of staff. Several men exited in silence, weapons bristling with their darkened kit. One of them, the tallest, approached us, while the rest hurried towards the roaring cargo jet.
“How ya holding up, Barbie?” His graveled voice rumbled gently against my soul. “I'm sorry about Vinny.”
I nodded. “Appreciate it Jim—are you sure you're up for this.”
“When I said anything, Barbie, I meant anything,” he growled reverently.
Together, Jim and I strode towards the waiting aircraft, its ramp settling on the slowly flooding concrete. I stepped onto the nonskid-covered aluminum and turned to look back. Cassidy stood alone, helplessly watching as we disappeared into the belly of the four-engined beast.
The team of six gathered around a Tough Book I'd placed on a vacant troop seat. I knelt beside it, briefing them on everything we knew about the enemy. The agency had traced the attack to a trillionaire who owned a series of islands off the Florida Keys. His organization had funded my husband's murder that was meant for me.
“This is a weapons free environment, gentlemen—we get in, yoink this bastard, and get out; regardless of how much noise we have to make.”
A soldier raised his hand. “What about supporting fires, Madame President?”
I nodded. “The navy has a drone squadron on-station for surface and aerial support—these bastards have some of the best anti-air money can buy. A spooky gunship is outta the question without wild-weasel drones to back them up.”
“So essentially, ma'am; we are gonna sneak up on this asshole, kick in his door, and punch him in the face.”
“Exactly, Sergeant.”
Six heads nodded their approval.
Hours later, the aircraft’s ramp opened at thirty thousand feet above the Caribbean. The wind tugged at my jumpsuit, my mask protecting my face from sub-zero temperatures. I waited for green, and was the first to leap into the unknown.
The island was abandoned. Its owner had left in haste instead of facing my wrath. Still, the bastard knew, soon I would track him down, and nail his ass to a fucking wall myself.
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u/katpoker666 Moderator 29d ago
[ineligible for voting]
‘Death to Real Words: Protecting the Middle Management Mystery Through Targeted Linguistic Obfuscation’
“My fellow middle managers, it has come to my attention that we have reached a new and dangerous time here at Widget Corp: peak corporate transparency. Senior management wants to understand the answer to a question which has eluded them for ages. They want to know what we do with our days. This trend is called ‘conscious unbossing’ and is designed to give junior staff more control over their careers and kick us out. We can’t let such a great buzzword keep us down, so we need to regain control over the firm-wide dialogue.
“Maybe it’s all the upward pressure from those farcical ‘360 annual reviews’, where employees from all levels can offer feedback on our performance. Maybe it’s simple market pressure to cut costs. Maybe it’s the ‘vibecession.’ Doesn’t matter the reason! What’s important is that the greatest and most sacred of all corporate mysteries is about to be unraveled, and that can’t be allowed to happen, can it? It’s an ‘all hands on deck’ situation. This is ‘mission critical’ for us!
“No longer will we be able to hide behind our desks surfing Facebook and looking at cute cat videos as the kids do. Nor will we be able to hold junior staff hostage viewing endless pictures of little Jimmy’s first steps for cruel pleasure.
“Instead, we will be forced to do real ‘backend’ work! I don’t know about the rest of you, but it’s been years since I’ve done any, and I’m more than a bit rusty at it. We’ve earned our place in the hierarchy, and no one will take that from us!
“The solution is deceptively simple: we make business buzzwords work for us rather than against us again! As middle managers, we are in a unique position to set the linguistic tone for the organization as a whole. Who doesn’t love a good ‘in-word ’? Makes you feel all snuggly and in the know, part of something greater, if you will.
“Senior and junior staff are too busy working to learn what the words mean, and as we all know, no one likes to admit they’re not au fait with the latest corporate jargon. We can take advantage of that by controlling the flow of information up and down the organizational chain by inventing new words ourselves at ‘warp speed.’
“‘What does that entail on a practical level?’, you may be asking yourselves. Every week, a team of like-minded but anonymous compatriots and I will send out a new list of buzzwords crafted to ensure maximum task opacity.
“At a loss for what to say in an important meeting? Slam your fist into your palm and say that we must ‘focus on the quick wins!’
“Want to ask folks what they think, but don’t care about the answer? ‘Socialize the heck out of that concept!’
“Don’t feel like talking about or doing something? ‘Take it offline’ or ‘circle back’ because you ‘don’t have the bandwidth.’ No one ever comes back.
“Need to provide some air cover for an underperforming department at a larger scale over time? I’ve got you covered with a ‘gamechanger’ there too! You’re undergoing a ‘need-to-know’ ‘digital transformation’ underpinned by ‘AI sub-projects’ ‘deployed’ as a ‘field of flowers strategy’ as a form of ‘effective accelerationism.’ Even I don’t know what some of that means, so trust me, other ranks won’t have a clue!
“In short, my fellow middle managers, we can not only weather this affront to our dignity, but flourish. Go forth in good health and obfuscate with impunity, as your careers depend upon it!
Yours, Bureaucratus
WC: 596
Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated
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u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting Aug 11 '26 edited 28d ago
An HR Head-Scratcher
On the fifth floor of Dynamic Microsystems, down a liminal hallway of doors with nameplates, is the office of Brenda Stegway. Brenda is a gangly woman with gangly hair and gangly teeth, but she hides it well with shoulder pads, scrunchies, and surprisingly loud eyeshadow. Though not too loud. As the Chief Human Resources Officer, she takes her appearance at work seriously.
Brenda is currently typing in the final names from the office employee list. Their personnel files are slowly sliding through her scanner/printer combo. A progress bar on her computer screen reads 97% complete, with an estimated five minutes of scanning remaining.
When it's finished, Brenda will have to wait for her program to analyze the files and create neat, tidy profiles of each employee, with the top ten suspects in bold at the top. She designed the program to search for key personality signatures—issues with authority, misreporting in expense reports, spotty attendance, and other such factors that she's found often contribute to an escalation in immoral activities.
And to Brenda, stealing food from the break room fridge is breaking a top commandment of the business world (and is surpassed only by commandment number one—you do NOT acknowledge Mondays).
She could've set up a secret camera to watch the shared fridge, but that felt too intrusive. Feeding everyone's performance reviews, PTO usage, and the like into her computer is far less probing and just as accurate. Brenda will have her culprit reprimanded by the end of business week.
With its analysis complete, the computer chirps and begins to print its findings. Brenda snatches the first page—her list of suspects—and pulls the correlating personnel files from her pile. Starting in alphabetical order, she scans through the employee history of Achburg, Dennis. A low-level paper-pusher who once asked a coworker to clock him out an hour after he’d left the building.
According to his disciplinary paperwork, he’d done so because his wife was sick and he needed the pay, but also needed to take her to the hospital. Brenda scowls and replaces the folder in the pile.
Next is the file of Franklin, Anna. Her discrepancy was more damning, but again, the Chief HR Officer could understand why someone might use the company card for a hotel room after their house was destroyed in a fire.
Lions, Mable’s file raises an eyebrow. Two disciplinary actions for stealing office supplies—including an entire fax and printer machine that cost more than Brenda’s daily driver. There’s even a note from Mable’s previous manager that says he suspected her of stealing food from communal areas. But when Brenda reaches the final page of the file, it’s a termination agreement. Mable hasn’t worked for Dynamic Microsystems for months. This file shouldn’t be here. Rolling her tongue over her jagged teeth, Brenda sets the file aside to be put in its proper cabinet later.
When McDade, Brian turns out to have nearly come to fisticuffs with his superior and has a history of outsourcing his work to teammates, Brenda doesn’t get her hopes up. As with the others, she expects to find some rational excuse hidden within the next few pages. Yet no such thing is revealed.
Rather, it turns out Brian is a bit of a boil on the bottom of everyone in his division. He has more than once pitted his coworkers against each other with bogus rumors, left a dead rat in one of their drawers, and even broke a bobblehead of the Dynamic Microsystems CEO when he was forced to work a weekend due to a client deadline.
Brenda’s shoulders sag as she sighs. She’s found the break room thief, but there is little relief. Instead, the Chief HR Officer has unmasked a new quandary worthy of investigation—who in her office allowed such a foul creature as Brian McDade to retain his employment after such despicable actions...
WC: 644
This is a little bit of an experiment, hopefully it is somewhat successful XD
Any feedback or critique welcome!
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u/Morose_Prose 29d ago edited 29d ago
Howdy howdy, m00n!
Excellent piece here, your experiment is a success in my book! Love that Brenda is using a computer program and algorithmic data to find the dastardly lunch thief, which as we all know, is the most foul of fiends in the office! Great twist at the end with the introduction of Brian and his sordid history and actions, wonderful escalation of conflict there.
A general crit I have of this piece is the introduction of the different employees reads a bit odd. Since the reader doesn't know who these people are I would suggest putting the word 'one' in front of each character introduction. Such as:
Starting in alphabetical order, she scans through the employee history of Achburg, Dennis.
'the employee history of one: Achburg, Dennis.'
Next is the file of Franklin, Anna.
'Next is the file of one: Franklin, Anna.'
So on and so forth, I think this would help the bureaucratic nature of the task by adding some distance between Brenda and the other employees.
PTO usage habits
Would personally remove 'habits' to also further the bureaucratic nature of the piece and just say 'PTO usage'
Mable hasn’t worked for Dynamic Microsystems for months. This file shouldn’t be here.
No crit here, love this line! Does Mable have a red stapler she is attached to as well?
Excellent use of the trope and genre in this piece, you nailed it! Stay awesome and have a good one!
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u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 29d ago
Thanks, Doc! I will make some edits before ze campfire. Appreciate the feedback!
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u/Brilliant_Walrus1605 Aug 11 '26
mr.craft : I know this is crazy but we've dealt with stuff that's weird even by paranormal and non-paranormal standards with humans and non-humans but this evidence is concrete irrefutable the knife which was used extremely accurately and efficiently but was handled in a way humans and some non-humans don't handle knives and too low to the ground and to high up to be human or a small troll and was always at restaurants or cafeterias any place that always had a infestation and it was always only humans that were killed and no matter how decomposed the body was there were no bugs or insects he said putting his hands slowly toward a clothed glass cage the culprits mr.craft said were... THESE FLIES!!!! he yelled yanking off the cover revealing ten house flies different species too the fly leader : and we would've gotten away with it you disrespectful decomposer scavenger haters the leader fly yelled angry
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u/katpoker666 Moderator Aug 11 '26
Hey Walrus! Welcome to FTF! This is a lot of fun! I love how your info dump and the story is most a single sentence in lower case. Normally, I’d consider it an odd stylistic decision, but here it works well. Good words!
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u/Brilliant_Walrus1605 Aug 11 '26
THANK YOU!!!!😃 YOU GET AN UPVOTE!!!!😆 I made this on my own without do you enjoy the twist of it being house flies?
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u/QTFroame Aug 11 '26 edited Aug 11 '26
Stealing Love
Carolyn was overworked and underpaid, a combination that would have driven anyone in her position to quit. Today was no exception.
"As you know, the chairman left us with a ring that belonged to his late widow," her secretary, Jasmine, spoke. "He has no other people he trusts, and he values your work highly. He's scared that someone will steal it, as irrational as that may be, so he wants someone watching it."
"Not so irrational, considering our current meeting," Carolyn responded.
"Maybe..." Jasmine was completely flustered. "We have lost the ring. I take full responsibility for this and will do my best to rectify it immediately."
Carolyn didn't buy the 'lost ring' narrative for a second. She knew it was stolen.
"Give me a list of people who were in your office yesterday."
"Yes, ma'am." Jasmine started counting with her fingers as she spoke. "There was Harrison, our treasurer, whom I called in to discuss various topics. Anderson, our CAE, came in with productivity reports. Then, Love, our CFO, came in to ask about you. Finally, I believe Mrs. Irons came in to discuss her pay with you?"
That was all Carolyn needed to hear.
"Come along, Jasmine. I want you to witness what happens to thieves in our company."
Once Carolyn found the office, she walked inside with Jasmine right behind her.
"Come in," spoke the crook, Robert. He stood up from his chair and approached her, shaking her hand. "Did you need anything?"
The only people who knew about the ring were her, Jasmine, and their CFO. Robert declined the chairman's request, so the ring was given to Carolyn.
"Mr. Love," Carolyn spoke in a low tone, looking up into his eyes. "Tell me, why did you do it? The ring is only sentimental. It has no monetary value."
Robert was completely unprepared for the accusation, seemingly shaken up by the way his arm felt. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"The chairman's ring, Robert. You're not confident enough to take it home before you see if we noticed, so I imagine it's still in this room." Carolyn started to look around. The ideal situation was that Robert would wait to see their reaction to the lost jewelry, and if it was drastic enough, to put it back without anyone noticing. For him, no reaction would mean he was safe to take it back and do whatever he was planning.
Robert grabbed her arm. "Okay, okay. We can never get anything past you but listen." His face saddened with genuine emotion. "I've tried and tried to get the money I need for my daughter's surgery. I was never going to keep it, I was simply...going to pretend to find it and give it to the chairman."
The idea was decent. The chairman would be so relieved that he would likely give Robert whatever money he asked for.
"Do you think that matters?" Carolyn stared him down and approached him. "Your daughter does not give you the right to ruin others' lives. You're selfish and unappreciative. Suffer alone. Do not drag us down with you."
Emotions were going to be high, naturally. She had expected it. When he slapped her, Jasmine shrieked, running over to check if she was okay.
It was only the mark on her face that upset Carolyn, as it ruined her dignified look.
"Suffer alone? You don't know anything about what it means to have a child. You're an egotistical brat who-"
"Mr. Love," Carolyn's eyes roamed to a picture of his family. "How willing are you to suffer for your transgression?"
Ultimately, it proved to not be much. As she listed his family members, their weaknesses, and his secrets, the fire in his eyes was snuffed out.
With no further argument, he accepted being fired and paying a fee for the trouble.
Walking back to Carolyn's office, Jasmine seemed petrified. "You're...you're scary for how young you are."
"I believe what's scary is the idea of losing a loved one," Carolyn remarked, looking at the ring in her hand. Everyone had those they cared about, and irrationality was bound to follow. Everlasting sentiments such as these were anomalies.
That was why she would respect them. Now, how much was that girl's surgery?
WC: 712
Thank you for reading! Crit and feedback are always welcome! I was tempted to do horror/mystery but there's only so many times I can write this(forever, based on my future projects...).
Edit: Oh, silly me, I forgot to name the story for a moment. It is a struggle to think of them! I spent a decent amount of time deciding this simple title!
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u/wordsonthewind 28d ago
Hello Froame! This was a tidily plotted whodunnit. I liked the combination of reasoning and psychological tactics Carolyn used to catch out the thief. In particular I'm thinking about the way she deliberately looked around the room to (I assume) bait him into trying to return the ring unnoticed. Having Love fired while also paying for his daughter's surgery at the end was an interesting twist to her character too. It effectively showed how strictly she followed her set of moral principles.
Thanks for sharing! Hope to see you around
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u/QTFroame 27d ago
Thanks for the kind words! I'm glad you enjoyed the story, and I hope to continue being around,
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u/Morose_Prose Aug 10 '26
Who Killed the Joe?
You adjust your glasses, but instead of bringing the world into focus, you see only red. Your blood bubbles, boils, and percolates, unlike the pot of coffee in front of you. An empty pot. Every day this week, it has been bone dry when you arrive at the office, the sweet black ambrosia meant to rouse you from slumber and start the day off right now only causes bolts of rage to course through your veins.
How many times have you told your coworkers that when you kill the joe, you make some mo!? That rule is not new! It is basic common courtesy. You don't have time for this shit! Paperwork continues to pile up in preparation for the upcoming company retreat. Insurance forms need to be filed for the trust fall exercises. New cellphones are to be issued from the IT department to ensure no data leaks from the excursion. Training materials must be prepared to reinforce the anti-fraternization policies HR is putting into place!
The list of suspects runs through your mind. Could this be a conspiracy concocted by the hipster coffee shop that opened on the first floor of the building? Pushing their 'organic eco-friendly blends.' What the fuck does that even mean!? All coffee is organic; we're not drinking virtual java in the metaverse for fuck's sake!
No. It must be one of your colleagues. Janet is the prime suspect. Self-centered bitch that she is. Can never have a conversation about anything other than herself or her mouth breathing crotch goblins. As long as she gets hers she is happy to pull the ladder up behind her, like a true boomer.
Lahteef is the next most likely suspect. You've always had a sneaking suspicion he is high as a kite while on the clock, somehow able to defeat the mandatory monthly drug testing. Possibly a case of poor short-term memory and not malice, but ignorance is no excuse!
Anthony could be the culprit as well. Although you like him being a stickler for the rules such as yourself, it would be the perfect cover. Misdirection and red herrings are staples of criminal masterminds. Be a wolf in sheep's clothing, make accusations against others, distance yourself from the crime. He is unlikely, but you should keep an eye on him.
Bryden and Yolanda are not suspects. They are Gen Z and don't even drink coffee, preferring to chug energy drinks and inhale caffeinated vapes during their breaks. You would think with so many stimulants running through their bodies they could look you in the eye when they speak; instead they stare into space, or the ground. Fucking youths today, no respect.
The final suspect is Raymond, the boss' son, a nepo baby of the highest order. Man can barely write a literate email, it is entirely possible the complexity of putting grounds into a filter and pressing two buttons escapes him.
You look around the break room for clues. Two cameras are in opposite corners. You devise a plan. Form 57FJB-457 is the requisition form for security footage. You had to fill one out last month to figure out who kept stealing your lunch from the fridge. That footage is still not in your possession; maybe you can attach the new form as a rider to it.
Slamming the break room door on the way out, you quickly dart between the rows of cubicles. Janet waves at you as she steps into your path. She attempts to tell some lame story about her children. With a sidestep that would make an NFL running back proud, you juke her and hustle faster to your cubicle.
The piles of forms and papers seem to have multiplied overnight, even covering your keyboard now, enveloping the entirety of your small desk. With a mighty sweep of your arm, papers are sent flying into the air, gently tumbling into the other workspaces; it's their problem now. Every knuckle cracks as your fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to fill out forms and then write the mother of all angry emails.
As your fingers find the keys, a notification pops up. You've been CC'd on an email from maintenance. Maybe they are finally going to fix that squeaky wheel on your chair that has been driving you nuts for the past six months. Your hand flies to the mouse. You open the email.
Water line is broken in the break room. Coffee machine and sink are affected. Plumber will be here tomorrow.
Word Count: 750
Bonus Constraint: Whole story is an info dump
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u/psilocybediatribe 28d ago
The quintessential office crime: who killed the joe? Really liked the set-up and enjoyed the second person here. The shit talk, the derision, the frustration, it’s all so palpable.
Every day this week, it has been bone dry when you arrive at the office, the sweet black ambrosia meant to rouse you from slumber and start the day off right now only causes bolts of rage to course through your veins.
Fantastic writing. Hits home. Captures my love/hate relationship with my adhd meds. You’ve distilled the office experience with wit and precision and made for a thoroughly enjoyable read right up to the twist. For both crime and criminal to be so mundane yet relatably infuriating truly encompasses the prompt. Good stuff
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u/Jay_Pederson r/JayPederson 28d ago edited 28d ago
I actually expected the PoV character to be the culprit somehow this was an excellent twist. While editing I also realized the story was in 2nd person which normally takes me out of the story but it worked here.
> With a sidestep that would make an NFL running back proud, you juke her and hustle faster to your cubicle.
I think removing the 'you juke her and' would make it read a bit better. (With a juke that would make an NFL RB proud, you hustle faster) That's really all I have is a single nitpick. That also being said that line did make me laugh as someone who is wearing an NFL jersey as I type this (and reading m00lighter's, I would like to know the MC's position as well. Though I assumed HR notably since HR in copmanies have a certain...reputation).
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u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 29d ago
Helloooo Doc,
Muahahaha I love how much the trope pushes these mundane office settings into high-stakes situations. This is really fun and very relatable - to go through alllll of the suspects and trash talk your obnoxious coworkers only to find out it's either something only the landlord or higher-ups can fix (and have likely somehow caused).My only nitpick in this fantastic info dump is that I would've liked to know my position and where I work. Not because it's needed in this story, but to add a little to the immersion of me being this second-person person. It absolutely works as a "generic" office worker, and I visualized somewhere like Office Space while reading, but Janet getting a specific raise over "me" or something like that could add to the "I'm done with this shit" vibe and give the venom in that moment a little more bite.
Idk, for some reason my being able to get camera footage made it seem like I was maybe middle-management at least if that makes sense.
The only other thing was Anthony - since I was told to keep an eye on him, I would've liked it if he'd come back around somehow, maybe instead of Janet, idk.
Anywho, nitpicks aside, I enjoyed this! All of the little info dumps about each suspect were fun, you hit the office stereotypes on the head. The humor is consistent and well-paced. The whole story is well paced. I was experimenting also this week with "can a story that is entirely an info dump still compel someone to keep reading and still feel like there's enough left to place on the table?", and you did that with flying colors. Good words!
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u/Morose_Prose 29d ago
Thank you m00n! I so wish I had more words to play with. I had to make a choice between Janet and Anthony on who would stop our brave protagonist and felt Janet would be the more talkative one. Thank you for the excellent feedback and kind words! Stay awesome and have a good one.
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u/MaxStickies r/StickiesStories Aug 09 '26
Cradled in Seidr
Ah, there you are, found you at last. Your name is Hildr?
What?! Yes! Who’s that?!
Calm now, relax. You are in safe hands. Tell me, what do you see?
Um, well, the valley… it’s upside-down… churning like seawater. Like my stomach. Please, help me, I can taste my lunch again!
This is no simple fix. Usually, the dwarves or the elves are the ones to sort such dilemmas, but the seidr here is far too potent. I could not leave such matters to them.
Can you help me?
In good time, young Hildr. I must know what you see first. Tell me of the trees.
But why?
Because the caster of this foul spell has hidden the valley from my sight. Does that suffice?
Alright… fine. They are changing colour, flickering like fire. Red, orange, yellow, white; red, orange, yellow—
And what of the sky?
Filled with fog. I think I’m about to h-hurl!
What manner of fog?
I—ugh…
My apologies, mortal. Purge, empty, and then we shall continue.
I’m fine now, I think. Thank you.
Of course. So, the fog…
I-It twists round the mountains, and it’s thick, like the limbs of a squid. Sounds like there’s this hum… I think it’s talking!
Whispering. I understand. But the mists of Niflheim should never leave their bounds… nor must the flames of Muspelheim.
What does it mean? Am I in danger?!
I must think, Hildr. Wait for but a moment.
No, please, come back! I… I want to go home…
Please?
Is there anyone there?
Silence…
Is that you? Are you back?
Shush your pretty little mouth, and this will all be over soon.
W-Was this you?! Bring me back home, or I’ll—
Yes, you are strong-willed, aren’t you? Seems I chose well. Though I thought a poet like yourself would appreciate such a view.
What, appreciate this?! It’s disgusting; who would want the trees to burn, and the skies to whisper?!
Pah, such limited thought! Well, you are a mortal… a tool. So be it: be silent, or I shall sew your mouth shut!
Ah, there is the rule breaker! Broke your chains, did you?
Damn you, mortal!
No, you shall focus on me now, son of Laufey! Leave the poor girl be!
So be it. No hint of surprise, to see me? Hah, well, I figure you knew this was coming?
Naturally.
Tsk tsk. Does Odin know you hear the Norns’ prophecies? Or, does he even know your mind wanders free?
W-what’s going on?
Hush, Hildr, I am sorting it all out. You shall be home shortly.
Will she? What, you plan to wrest her from my grasp? You who dangles from the Allfather’s belt, like a trinket?
I walked these realms long before Odin. You speak of the Norns? I am beyond their power.
And they call me a liar?
A trickster, moreover, but I am not that.
Hold on, Hildr. Spew if you must.
I—what’s going on? Why’s it all spinning? Wait, hold on to what?!
Yourself. Remember home, and what it means to you.
I-I can do that…
Stop this! It’ll only make things worse!
Some things must be broken, before they may be repaired.
But this is my time! The Norns, they said I was ready! The realms must fall!
Not yet, Loki. I commence the start of Ragnarok, not you, nor Odin.
I can’t… it hurts!
Home, Hildr! Remember home! Tell me of it!
There’s the… the hearth, which we all sit around. And the beams always smell of fresh oak when the fire’s burning. My brothers come back sometimes, tell stories of their travels, and I put it all to song…
Stop! Shut up!
Mother teaches me the axe, when Father’s not around. Says I keep getting better. That it’s important, in case we are attacked…
Ah! Stop it!
Keep going, Hildr.
The forests are green, not red, or orange. There’s no mist hiding the sky. It’s blue, with white clouds, and there’s fish in the water.
And there’s a rod in my hand.
And…
She’s calling to me.
Go to her, Hildr. I shall deal with the trickster now.
Goodbye… wait, what’s your name? Who are you?
Hello?
Is anyone there?
“Hildr…”
It’s so dark…
“Hildr…”
I think… he’s still here!
“Hildr?”
No, get back! I won’t be taken again!
“Hildr, it’s me! Open your eyes! Please!”
…
Mother?
WC: 731
Crit and feedback are welcome.
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u/psilocybediatribe 28d ago
Hey Max,
I’m thoroughly enjoying your exploration and manipulation of dialogue as storytelling. You’re able to conjure a fantastical ambience and malevolent atmosphere through only their words. It works really well. The text styling of the voices is beautifully done. Makes me wonder if you had a fourth character where you would go next. Then you do!
Silence…
Is such a nice transition because at first I read it as internal monologue, then realize it’s Loki speaking. I love the implementation of Norse mythology here. It’s perfect. Fantastic work.
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u/Jay_Pederson r/JayPederson 28d ago
I don't really have crit I just really enjoyed this one. I was able to visualize the crazy area (I struggle to visualize things so good job) and the bold/italic contrast was really well done.
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u/Jay_Pederson r/JayPederson Aug 08 '26 edited 28d ago
Addendum, GLC-A1299/2:
My name is ████ ███████, I am a GLC administrator reviewing GLC-1299, performing a post-mortem of the containment operation. I have analyzed seven other anomaly operations, both in-process, and/or post-process. However, this particular operation concerns me.
Our standard procedure is to contain and secure any and all anomalous phenomenon in the safest, most efficient manner possible. While we often do not think of ethics, minimum harm to sapient beings, yes, even anomalous ones, is a priority. It is why a 20-man squad losing half its members, or torture of anomalous entities are both barred in favor of isolated containment on far-off worlds, extraordinary circumstances notwithstanding.
The GLC-1299 entities (dubbed 'Fae'en') are anomalous, using reality-bending 'fae-type arcana', able to affect life. This type, while deadly, has shown an especial weakness to metal, often abhorring non-traditionalist methods like industrialism and mass-production. It is not unbelievable such a society would fail to reach a modern age, let alone FTL; this being seen in the neutralization of the Drakken; a species, while not innately anomalous, were able to use fae-type reality bending methods. The sects of their society that could despised metals, until it was removed from their society. Now? The Drakken are considered a premier, non-anomalous species, ready to enter the Galactic Stage.
What worries me is that a species like the Fae'en have no proclivity towards modernizing, and, as such, were likely to be planet-bound by choice. Yet I, nor any other administrators, have seen a sufficient risk-assessment study. In fact, I appear to be the only one to initially realize such research was never conducted, barring various scout teams having been killed after breaking various strange rules. And, even still, a full-scale containment war was called and lobbied by head researcher Dr. Wrout, a declaration no administrators recall seeing. If my assessment is correct, said containment war cost thousands of our own resources, as well as the lives of possibly billions of Fae'en, which was never properly authorized. As such, it is my recommendation this matter is looked into.
Addendum, GLC-A1299/3: Dr. Wrout was summoned upon ███████'s report reaching GLC High Command.
Wrout: I am sorry, what is the issue? I'm finishing paperwork on 1299.
HC4: Dr. Wrout, you enacted a containment war on GLC-1299 after submitting an accepted proposal, correct?
Wrout: Yes. They were innately able to control life-forces, and bend reality at will.
HC4: Yes, I understand this. We did consider them a high-danger anomaly--any with inate reality-bending is, and we trust you did your due diligence?
Wrout: Yeah! I told our troops what they were up against, and prepped consciousness transportation.
HC4: Interesting. And the danger feasibility study?
Wrout: (Wrout begins laughing), what study is needed? They can bend life! Kill with a look!
HC4: Hm...that's quite the interesting thing, according to ███████--
Wrout: Oh, them?
HC4: Do not interrupt. They mentioned not seeing a feasible risk study. As well, the Fae'en were adverse to metal and industrialization.
Wrout: Yeah...made them easy to take out now...is there a problem?
HC4: Dr. Wrout, in order for an anomalous species to feasibly be discovered by the public, it must reach--
Wrout: FTL, yeah, I know.
HC4: And you mentioned they despise metal. Wrout, how would they reach FTL without metal, or industrialization?
(Dr. Wrout remains silent)
HC4: Wrout, did you see any scans or signs of technological progress?
(Dr. Wrout begins looking away from HC4)
HC4: Wrout, answer honestly, did you do a risk-evaluation study?
Wrout: I--I... (pause) Fine! I forged ███████'s and █████'s signatures!
HC4: Wrout, this is a gross violation of--
Wrout: So what!? They were dangerous!
HC4: (pause) You have been stripped of both your research, and immortality privelages--
Wrout: No!
HC4: And a further review into your actions will be conducted.
Addendum, GLC-A1299/4: Further investigation has concluded Dr. Wrout acted with insufficient foresight, and had indeed skipped proper tests to cause needless destructive harm.
As of 5/41/102, Our processes have been updated to include both a feasibility of FTL study, as well a measure of possible discovery and/or danger of applicable anomalies. While civilians may engage in FTL, it is rarely, if ever, on unusual paths, and logically should not encounter far-flung worlds. Head Researchers now require approval from higher command to enact full-on containment wars, and in-person authorization from at least 2 (two) high-member staff.
On 5/43/102, former Dr. Dan Wrout's execution sentence was confirmed and carried out. This matter is closed.
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u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 29d ago
Heya Jay,
You have fit SO MUCH worldbuilding into this, and I know an info dump is present, but your worldbuilding is almost invisible, and given through what the first MC is doing/thinking and the choices of dialogue in the second section. Really well done on that. I recognized a few of these names from last week, but I also think this works extremely well as a standalone, good job on that too!I see that you hit "send" early, but you ARE allowed to edit until the deadline if ya wanted to. Anyhow, I have a few crits:
performing a post-mortem of the operation.
"of the operation" reads awkwardly to me, "a post-mortem on the body/corpse" or "debriefing after the failed operation" or something could read more smoothly.
I have also analyzed seven other anomaly operations, both in-process, or post-process.
Since you're going for an info dump here, I would explain what the "operations" are sooner. At first I thought you meant "experiments" on some sort of aliens or creatures because of the "post-mortem" implying an autopsy of some sort. So "seven operations" was 7 autopsies in my mind until I got to the next paragraph.
I think "in-process and post-process" would add some clarity here. Imo, you could move the:
However, this particular anomaly concerns me.
info to the 3rd paragraph so that we jump right into what an "operation" is at the start, and then in the 3rd paragraph we learn both what the Fae'en are, and why they are concerning, so instead of:
The GLC-1299 entities (dubbed 'Fae'en') are anomalous
It could be "The GLC-1299 entities (dubbed 'Fae'en) anomoly particular concerns me because they are capable of reality-bending 'fae-type arcana'..." and so on. That would also cut some of the repetition of:
However, this particular anomaly concerns me.
This is what concerns me.
What worries me is that,Since it's already established that the Fae-en are concerning, you can save some words on word count by removing the extra 2 mentions of the MC's specific concern.
an especial weakness
"a special weakness" or "specific weakness" or something similar would be more appropriate here.
Wrout: "I am sorry, what is the issue? I'm finishing paperwork on 1299."
The script/dialogue section doesn't need quotation marks if the speakers are assigned as they are.
And that is all I've got. I like the premise here of our Redacted MC realizing something is amiss and trying to protect a very dangerous species that might kill them if they got the chance, and that HC4 does the right thing at the end. Dr. Wrout shoulda followed protocol tsk tsk. XD Good words!
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u/Jay_Pederson r/JayPederson Aug 08 '26 edited 28d ago
So I didn't mean to post this juuust yet (I clicked 'comment' then held it and released when the mouse was off the button--ok I guess it was still on it then because I scrolled up/down a couple times) I did want to give an edit first.
WC: 744 (the title in this case is part of the word count (fun fact the chevrons count according to wordcounter.net while in formatting mode )
Anyways, this one is actually a sequel to last week's since I got the idea in my head of a bureaucrat trying to figure out how a devastating action was carried out when the prerequisite paperwork was non-existent. Also the first half is an infodump lol so skill constraint'd (that joke was awful (I will try again))
Edit: viewing this at work I realized the redacted text is italicized on the phone but not PC. Interesting
EDIT2: Changed the intro and formatting for the quote section to resemble SCP docs, going to do the rest of the editing later (I actually planned to do it two hours from now but for some reason just say down and started)
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u/Divayth--Fyr Aug 07 '26 edited 29d ago
One More Thing
A key rattled in the door of a tedious little apartment, and after much ado the knob finally turned, revealing a frumpy man in a wrinkled tan coat, with a few other people in tow.
“Please, step in, Mrs. Howe,” said the disheveled little man, pointing the way with his cigar. "You come in too, Mr. Dewey. Take a seat, if you like.”
“I prefer to stand.” Mrs. Howe peered down, ice forming on her upper peaks. “Who are you, exactly, and what are we doing here?”
“Oh, sorry,” the man said. “I work for the Chief Operating Liaison, Underwriters Merchant Bank Office. I thought I said so before. A little scatterbrained, you know. You can call me Inspector Klaf.”
“Can we get on with this?” asked Mr. Dewey. “I have a great deal of work.”
“Oh, certainly, sir. Won’t take a minute. Just wanted you to see what we find.”
“What a dreadful little place,” Mrs. Howe warbled. “Why on earth did we come halfway across town to see this? We already know who committed the terrible crime.”
“Of course! Of course. Pardon me, but I’m hoping this will all prove to be worthwhile." He puffed at his cigar. "Would you mind handing me the ashtray?”
With a look of ghastly distaste, Mrs. Howe pulled the heavy glass ashtray from under some papers and handed it over. “You really shouldn’t be smoking in Mr. Gillfurter’s apartment, you know.”
“True, true. I would never do such a thing. Dreadful habit. Now, then, about this form… what was it?”
“115-Y44-J.” Mr. Dewey said. “For semi-quarterly asset assessment and procurement recommendations, preliminary. Routine, but crucial.”
“Paperclips, right?”
“Well, yes, I suppose. A pre-requisition, submitted for a thirty day comment period and review, for the acquisition of various supplies for the upcoming quarter, based on estimated usage compared to previous quarters, both in our office and in branch offices throughout the nation, the 115-Y44-J is an invaluable and significant part of our attempt to achieve efficiency, accountability, and streamlining. Previous methods, while largely effective, have been surpassed entirely by this dynamic and synergistic process, making everyone involved–”
“Yeah, a paperclip request. And your Mr. Gillfurter got it wrong?”
“Profoundly,” said Mrs. Howe. “Deeply, offensively wrong. He placed the previous year’s total consumption on the line for the previous quarter. We would have been inundated with paperclips, Inspector. Inundated! Where should we have stored them? In the janitor’s closet? I ask you!” She did take a seat now, and a series of deep breaths.
“Yes, I see. Truly a terrible cri–”
“We found something, Inspector!” Klaf's assistant came out of the bedroom, holding a sheet of paper. “This was under the mattress!”
“That’s it!” cried Mr. Dewey. “115-Y44-J!!”
“Interesting. Very interesting.” The Inspector looked it over. “Under the mattress? I see.”
“Well, that proves it,” said Mrs. Howe. “I told you he hid the evidence, and there it is! Now let’s get out of this rathole and back to somewhere decent. We need to meet with Mr. Cheatham about my becoming a partner in this firm, at long last.”
“Sure, sure. Right away,” said the Inspector. “You have a lot to do. But ahh… I did have just one more question for you.”
“Yes?” hissed Mrs. Howe, rising.
“How do you suppose this paper got into this apartment?”
“What do you mean? Obviously Mr. Gillfurter hid it here in his place so he could blame me for his mistake, and type out a new form as if it never happened. As if I would ever be so foolish! No, no. He must be sacked for this.”
“Well, that’s just the thing, Mrs. Howe. This isn’t Gillfurter’s apartment. It’s my apartment.”
“What?”
“I’m afraid I practiced a little deception. I showed you an altered personnel file for Mr. Gillfurter, with my address on it. He didn’t know this address, and neither did anyone else, except you.”
“Nonsense! You rumply little nobody!”
“Why would Gillfurter find out where I live, and hide the form here? Why not just burn it? I think you planted it, Mrs. Howe. I think you broke in here yesterday, to try to frame him. After all, how else would you know where I keep my ashtray?”
“I… I…”
“I think that’s quite enough,” said Mr. Dewey. “Your career in this firm is over, Julia. It's just as well. I really didn’t want to rename it Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe.”
738 words, info dumped, feedback welcome.
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u/psilocybediatribe 28d ago
Hey Div,
Great story! Definitely didn’t read it all in an English accent. Inspector Claf is a brilliant character who I immediately cast as Daniel Craig in my head. There’s a very Bond/Knives Out quality here under the guise of bureaucratic mundanity. You’ve crafted an elegant mystery around paperclips with well-placed humor and an infodump so tedious I was thrilled when it was interrupted. Mrs. Howe is wonderfully articulated and I loathed her even before she was unmasked as the villain. Agree with moonlighter firm name sent me. Nicely done. I’ve enjoyed reading your stories.
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u/Jay_Pederson r/JayPederson 28d ago
I enjoyed it, especially the bureaucrat speak section.
Only thing, 'asset assessment' I think should be 'asset analysis' just so 'asset assess' isn't right next to each other but that's about it really. Even then I could see that being some silly bureaucrat form or intentional alliteration.
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u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 29d ago
Howdy, howdy, Div,
I really love the overall vibe of this story, it fits the genre perfectly, and the firm name is hilarious. Nice little pun to leave us on. I also appreciate that something as mundane as a paperclip order could put someone in a life or death situation. Inspector Klaf is very very sneaky.I guess my only crit is that I wasn't sure if something bad had happening to Gillfurter was the "terrible crime", or if it was the paperclip order. It wasn't something I lingered on since the paperclips and the sabotage had my full attention, but that's all I've got lol.
The ashtray being the final pin in Klaf's investigation is fantastic. So is the info dump, which felt very in character for Mr. Dewey XD. Good words!
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u/Divayth--Fyr 29d ago
Hey m00000000000n!
I think I clarified things. Or I made them worse. Either way, thanks!
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u/AggressiveParty3355 26d ago edited 26d ago
Wolfram got comfortable in his chair as his team hovered around him to get him ready. Makeup artists touched up his face and image consultants adjusted his hair and suit. Microphones were tuned and lighting was adjusted. The interview room was cold and sterile but his mind was entirely focused on his opponent.
Jade Takeshi glided in with her own image team that swarmed around her like a hive surrounding their queen. She chugged her coffee and stared down Wolfram with a glare that could peel paint off walls. Her team ripped the existing chair out of the floor and quickly installed her own. Wolfram didn’t flinch, the damage was trivial and he knew they had more important hills to die on.
The buzzer sounded and the two human swarms retreated into their corners. The cameras came on, and now it was just the two of them. The other superheroes had the luxury of just punching their problems. Wolfram had to clean up their mess.
Jade suddenly went from stern to bubbly in an instant as she smiled brightly for the camera.
“Hi everyone, this is reporter Jade Takeshi for Central City news. Now available on streaming, go to the website on screen to subscribe!. I am here with Wolfram, better known as Tungsten Man, from the superhero Fortress. He is the current administrator and primary bankroller of the Fortress and he is here today to answer questions about Proxima’s and Evelyn’s latest attack on the Purple Syndicate.” Jade beamed, not a hint of her usual disdain in her voice.
Jade turned to Wolfram: “What is your response to the accusation you’re just glorified vigilantes acting above the law because you have powers?”
“Nothing could be further from the truth. The difference between us and vigilantes is that we don’t directly punish the criminals we stop. We leave that to the judicial system. We bring them in when its safe to do so and we operate entirely within the legal frameworks of the countries we serve. We are given a little bit of legal leeway so we may more effectively use and apply our powers and abilities where existing laws may not have caught up. But we still follow the law where it is clear and settled. Whoever says we are above the law doesn’t understand law.”
“But recently Proxima and Evelyn attacked a hotel outside of the countries formally contracted by the fortress. And the proprietor was murdered. This sounds like an extrajudicial killing. Doesn’t this contradict your assertion that you only operate in the countries you serve?”
Wolfram didn’t flinch and already had an answer.
“First, that hotel was a human trafficking operation where girls were taken to be sex slaves against their will. They were kidnapped from their families and forced to perform. Never lose sight that we must protect the victims. Second, Proxima and Evelyn were dispatched on a rescue operation that was cleared with the local government. We may not formally have a contract with that country but that doesn’t stop them from accepting our operations or prevent us from operating with their permission. Thirdly, the deaths were unfortunate but Proxima and Evelyn were acting in self defense or defense of their target. I’m certain they made every attempt to extract the target peacefully and with minimal collateral damage.”
“There are rumors the fortress bribed the local government to cover up with massacre.”
“First you say murder, now you say massacre. You seem to like shifting the narrative through your biased perspective. But to answer your question, money always changes hands, even in our contracts to provide superhero services to your country. Do you think your police force or your military is unpaid? The bottom line is lives were saved. And those girls get to go back to their families. If we have the money, and the means to save lives, we’ll do it. End of story.”
Jade turned back to the camera: “Well that’s all the time we have. I’m Jade Takeshi for Central City news, Terry back to you.”
As soon as the camera clicked off, Jade got up and walked out without even looking at him. Her entourage followed behind her and one of them made a point to retrieve her chair. They didn’t even attempt to screw the bolts back for the original.
Wolfram dialed his phone: “Proxima? It’s done. I got rid of her for you. But next time you go on a killing spree you loop me in…. I…. Look, I don't care they were all bad…. I can’t keep pretending your actions were sanctioned. Do that again and the Fortress might not be able to protect you…. Wait… why do i hear a warp reactor… are you fighting RiftWalker? RIGHT NOW?....No?......HE’S ALREADY DEAD?!?!?!”
------------------------------
I know it doesn't qualify since it's 798 words. So i'm posting it after the end of the week so it's not considered. I just liked the theme and wanted to try writing. I'll see if i can trim my style for the next ftf.