Nerves, Pt. 2

They lead us out of the basement, back into the ugly post-modern nightmare that we're supposed to call home. That is if you're one of those worky types that likes to joke about your office being your home away from home. Bob Sagety man gets all mysterious-like and takes us to our new offices. Seventh floor. Room 7174. Six desks. There are seven of us. Doesn't bode well.

Saget starts speechifying.

"My name is Marcus Mellitus Mercius. You can call me 'M' for short. This will be your home from now on, like it or not..."

blah blah blah. Christ. I think he just looked at me. That was directed at me. The whole like it or not business. He's totally got it in for me. Fuck.

"...as you can see there are six desks. We are on what you might call a shoe-string budget here. We can barely afford to sustain my drinking habit..."

Oh my god he's pausing for us to laugh. But it's not funny. God help me.

"coffee that is...mm ha ha...so two of you will have to share. Hmmm...let's see. How about you two."

Yeah right. Oh fuck. He's looking right at me. Again. Saget's definitely out to get me. I'm supposed to share with that guy? He's disgusting. He did that man-whoop thing that they do at sporting events while we were trying to kill the fucking demon. Very uncalled for. And did Saget's eyes just glow red?

I nod as though agreeing.

"Wonderful then. I think we're all going to get along just fine then, just fine."

Speak for yourself Saget. And nice trick with the eyes. Ooooo. I have glowy red eyes. I'm so scary.

Can't wait to meet new guy. I hope his name is Gregorius. Or Winston. Something that's either dead or smokeable.


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