Subject: And people ask why we got set up...
Author:
Posted on: 2022-05-14 15:11:51 UTC

Honestly, it's like watching a bunch of kids bickering over who's got whose PE kit.


"Karen?"

Karen looked over her shoulder. "Yeah, Al?"

"Are you sure this is helping?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course it's not helping. I'm just being a cow. It's more fun that way. Besides, how many times do you hear people talking about us like we're a pale imitation of what the Multiverse Monitor And/Or Monitors do? I reckon they're due a little payback."

Al's forehead ticked gently while he thought. "Wait, I've literally never heard anyone say that."

"And furthermore," said Karen, who'd built up a head of steam by now, "why should we be the inferior copy? None of these publications have any serious journalistic traditions, it's just newsletters! And yeah, they write long articles that aren't bullet-pointed lists, but we credit the authors properly and anyway I can't type that fast!"

"The Cube tried to find you again, didn't it."

"What, and that would make me feel insecure? Unsafe somehow? Like I was gonna be drawn back in and spat out again when it was done with me? Like nothing I did that didn't involve it was every worth anything? Don't be daft. You'd know if that happened. I'd be in my recliner chair checking my bug-out bag was ready. And I already did that, so I'm fine now!"

"You're not fine, are you?"

Karen's shoulders slumped, and she looked back at the screen. "... No, Al. No I'm not."

The screensaver had come on. A brightly-coloured beach ball bounced around the darkness. In depths, there were two eyes, and the ghost of a face. It shook, just a little.

Al walked over slowly and stood beside Karen, his arm falling across her shoulders, slow and gentle as his words. "You don't have to be. You won't lose us if you're not."

There was a long silence. "I know." Another one, quicker, darker. "I do know that. I promise."

"Okay." Al squeezed her shoulders and stood straight. "Your therapy group's later today, isn't it? I'll get Bogbrush to handle this, he's not got much on."

"He never does, Al. He's a toilet brush, he doesn't wear clothes." It was a weak joke, but it wrung a laugh out of Al and a smile out of Karen, watery and fragile but real. "I'm off back to my RC. Gonna have the door down for a bit. I think I need the quiet."

"You do that," Al said. He watched her hop down from the seat and head towards her RC. It wasn't normal for Infrastructure departments to have those; then again, it wasn't normal for RCs to be made of piled-up tins of spaghetti hoops. You did things for your friends.

Al checked the intra-departmental message board for anything from the Shallot or Bogbrush. The latter was currently having a spirited debate (or absolute flaming row) about who was in charge of the Real Conspiracy, so he was indisposed; the former was currently circling back to an in-depth reupping of his core competencies, which meant he was playing golf again. He sighed, closed the tabs, and brought up a new PageMaker document. You did things for your friends. He selected a random number, selected a second one that Will Shock You, cracked his knuckles, and began to write.

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