Mynx Posted March 16, 2008 Report Posted March 16, 2008 A conversation I had with my friend about her current temping job. ~~~ <File sent> Mynx says: what's this? the cake is a lie says: it's my evidence Mynx says: oh dear the cake is a lie says: I've seen the X Files. I know what this means Mynx says: you don't want to do this before Europe the cake is a lie says: I think I can hide the bodies long enough to be able to leave the country Mynx says: no no the cake is a lie says: but evidence! Mynx says: give it to the designated cleanup crew the cake is a lie says: but Mulder ran away and Scully left the baby with a farm and they're on the run so I can't give it to them and the Lone Gunmen died and Jimmy was like their retarded jock apprentice or something is a retarded jock apprentice Mynx says: no killingz Mynx says: you do not have AKA approval the cake is a lie says: so many forms Mynx says: very compelling reasons to kill, but you must fill out all the Alien Killingz Association forms first, and send a copy to me before it will be authorised the cake is a lie says: but it's like 32 pages the cake is a lie says: and you have to *classify* the cake is a lie says: I *hate* counting toes Mynx says: there are reasons for these forms do you *remember* that time at the school? Mynx says: besides, we have more pressing issue right now the cake is a lie says: man you accidentally percussion grenade one small class of 32 and all of a sudden beurocracy rains on your parade the cake is a lie says: what's the more pressing issue? the cake is a lie says: did you kill someone again? Mynx says: I'm watching Ultraviolet Mynx says: so much multi coloured outfit midriff porn A Comprehensive List Of Compelling Reasons My Co-Workers May Be Pod People/Aliens Working To Invade New Zealand, And why I should stab at least one to see if it oozes green slime. 1. No understanding of work day. My hours are 8:30 to 5. When I arrive in the morning at 8:20-8:30 almost every single ‘person’ is in the office already. They show no signs of having arrived only recently. I’m also the first to leave, and the creatures seem to be unaware or have no interest in the time. 2. Little personalisation. Their desks are freakishly tidy and impersonal. Perhaps because they have no human friends or family they have not eaten? 3. Limited outside contact. At no time during the day do they seem to check their cellphones for text messages. Again, I suspect they have consumed or broken contact with all friends their human shell once was acquainted with. I have never seen any but one of the people there engaged in a personal call. I suspect the one who did is raising alien young, possibly to serve as soldiers in the invasion. 4. They only talk about finance. They make jokes about finance, if they make jokes. As I’m very unfamiliar with anything to do with finance, I suspect this is a secret code. Kiwi Saver, while also a New Zealand savings initiative could refer to the numbers and types of people who will be required to keep the infrastructure running during their invasion. The life insurance they sell could be a covert and clever way of understanding and best utilising human weaknesses. 5. They do not consume human food. While my lunch break is an hour, if I’m spending time in the lunch room then the longest period they will spend interacting with each other and consuming food is roughly 20 minutes. During this time they will also talk of consuming vegan pizza (this may be code for the young children they will crush with their mandibles.) After this period they will return to their desks. 6. I have only ever seen 4 out of the 20 or so leave the building. I suspect that perhaps their species is weak due to our lack of ozone protecting them from harmful radiation. Or perhaps trees hurt them. Either way, they require the casing of a car to transport themselves even over very short distances. (For example, living in the city and yet driving to work. Which would be the equivalent of a 5 minute 50 cent bus ride, or a 20 minute at most walk.) 7. Psychic communication. Only inaudible communication through psychic or perhaps sonic means could understand the lack of talking. They exchange only perfunctory greetings in very strange ways once or twice and then communicate sparingly. I suspect their vocal communications could be to avoid suspicion of the humans working among them. 8. Social fumbling. The ‘people’ seem unaware of how to maintain a genuine human conversation, from basic greeting to subject topics. They seem to think that appropriate hellos involve an exchange of names and asking for a detailed explanation of where the person lives and how they managed to reach their location. This may be to better understand the flawed transport system of Auckland. Also, due to the humans who come to work with them not already being in their files, the information could also serve a duel purpose. The only other topic they engage in revolves around media that is transported through radio or television signals. This could be picked up on some form of hidden antennae and explain how they can achieve watching Shortland Street but never leave the building. 9. Attempts to lure humans to deaths. This would explain why only a few minutes after meeting the new humans they would offer rides to or from locations. 10. The near constant turn over of staff. I arrived with another temp, whom I have neither heard from or seen again. On the Thursday a young woman appeared, but by Friday she had disappeared. In the week I have worked there at least 2 new staff have been brought on. Another 2 are due to start next week, one of whom will replace the now empty desk near mine. I do not know where the man who formerly occupied it now is. Perhaps he did not meet his ‘Kiwi saver finance options’ targets? I think they may come for me next. If they are not aliens it’s possible they’re emitting a weapon that works through sound to make people completely docile. As a defence against boredom I have taken to wearing an earphone and listening to audiobooks. Stephen Colbert’s I Am America And So Can You may be protecting my brain against this weapon. My MP3 player must never be allowed to run out of battery, lest I succumb like the others.
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