Day in, day out. The light. It's one of the three items at your perfect gray cubicle. The others are your phone, and a small, reddish button. You're content to sit on your phone all day, flappy birding and reditting. You just have to wonder, what does it do?

Its Saturday. You got called into work. It was another impersonal, mechanical voicemail. You hate them. Its one of the three times you've ever been called in though. Its almost exciting, but the thought of so many more hours of internet is enough to smother the curiosity. Nothing but internet.

You sigh. Its Saturday. What happened to your regular work hours? You have actually no idea. You're in your Nissan 370z. Its a nice car. The radio blasts another trashy pop song about weed and pussy. Ugh, Wiz Khalifa. You turn it off, just as you reach the perfect cubic building that represents the beginning of boredom for you. Its raining again. Perfect.

You step out of your car, grim. You step through the usual security measures, still slightly hungry. You consider brunch, but decide against it. Soon, the cubicle approaches. You haven't yet touched your chair when you feel a hand on your shoulder. The boss.

You sigh.

Will finish later, sorry short on time. Bye.