From Newsgroup: rec.arts.comics.creative

Original message: https://lists.eyrie.org/mailman3/hyperkitty/list/racc@lists.eyrie.org/message/4FEVUBV7KDWCIMOJQFBLYJ2FL2HKI76T/
On Sun, Jul 13, 2025 at 4:47rC>PM Arthur Spitzer <arspitzer2@gmail.com> wrote: <snip>

WHEEE!!!

Now that was just the best last thought to have.

X3

Deft looked
back over his shoulder at the worm-like mass of paper that had been
chasing him for several floors. It was pretty imposing, filling up
the corridor as it did, and there was always the possibility that it
could paper-cut him to death. He had been skating much like his life
depended on it, but the column of paper had been keeping up.

He tried again, WHEEE!!!

Nope, it missed him again.

X3 Excellent visual!

The noise on the circuit was that
He was tired of Mr. Excellent's violent rampage. That could only mean
one thing. The bar had disappeared before Deft could find out what that
thing was. It didn't have anything to do with Deft being chased by a
column of vicious forms. It had something to do with the Ramaj question.

Ooooooh. :o

In a palatial 1950's kitchen a daemon wearing the rags of Donna Reed's apron paces nervously in front of a smoking oven... out of some
other dimension comes a hand, followed by an arm... The daemon jumps...
from some presumably similar non-place comes a huge gaping MAW (whose
size and configuration sorta demand the capitalization). The daemon
drops his head and trembles, not even the most modern of conveniences
can save it now... the huge hairless paw sweeps around and gestures
toward the hideous vacuity between the fangs...

"AAH... AHHHH-AAAAH"

The daemon holds his head in despair.

"AAAAAAHHHHH"

The jaws advance.

...huh. :o

Ramaj felt like things were getting a little out of control. He
had handled himself alright around the 'coats and noone had asked any embarrassing questions, but he wasn't used to this "white flash and you
are suddenly in an office that vaguely reminds you of personal assurance" kind of thing.

Hmmmmm, has some social anxiety, huh

"Lad, I can see you might be doing you best here. Are you aware
of Section C article seven Reg. CWX-0940-5830?", Ramaj looked over his glasses to punch the confusion home, but there was no need.
The milquetoast clerk was hardly prepared for a short intense middle-aged Indian speaking Chief Engineer Scots.

X3

The dimensions of the accent didn't seem to matter to his target who was still muddled from Ramaj's initial sally. "No no no... You want
to turn right at the end of the hall this week. The whole building
shuffles itself around for security purposes.

Ahhhhh, makes sense.

Ramaj retained his authoritarian bluster until he was in the empty hallway. There he carefully put it aside and took a deep breath. Then he just
as carefully put it back on, in case he had to deal with a hallway
meeting.

Relatable.

For a short while the unexpected vacation had done The Kitchen
God some good.

[...]

Fortunately there were those that
had to have their flayed virgin in goat testicle sauce just so. despite
their otherwise replusive natures he was thankful for the challenge that
they set him.

I see. o.o;

With some free
time for thought, the Kitchen God (well that seems a bit formal, let me introduce Edwynn Pigg, known to a couple of friends as, the Kitchen God.
Er, where was I...)

Pleased to meet you :o

When someone like Ramaj would tell him "the News of the World" he would politely nod and treat it all like some magnificent fairy tale. It had
been getting easier and easier all the time as the Saxons and the
remains of the Holy Roman Empire started to describe their squabbles
as world wars.

Mmmmmm yeah kinda. @-@

Ramaj had obviously picked up on Edwynn's disregard of
current events, because he had been dressing up stranger and stranger
tales as "News of the World" to try to provoke a reaction out of him.

I think you just live in a strange world, I'm afraid. X>

whhee!! Deft thought, less enthusiastically.

X3

Despite the immediate threat behind him, Deft found
his mind wandering more frequently now than usual.

Okay, so we have the classic autism/ADHD gay pairing here.

As Ol' Bart swung back Deft would rise up on the board
and kick rhythmically. Once he was able to launch Bart forward again
he crouched down on the board to reduce the wind resistance, the
trenchcoat wasn't really helping here.

heeheehee

Ol' Bart wasn't so lucky, Deft just hadn't put enough oompfh
in his upward swing and Ol' Bart caught the Fatsoa in the paper face. A
thunk and tearing of forms followed by an unearthly scribbling rent the
air. The Fatsoas became tangled in a mass of red tape. Deft landed on
his board and skated hard.

This is a well-written action scene!

Ramaj was getting concerned about Deft, but he had an overriding concern on his mind, the Kitchen God. Even though it was a bit off his
beaten news track, Ramaj had heard about some of the several upheavals in Hell and none of them sounded pleasant. He was afraid that the imprudent denial of Access to the Kitchen God would prove to be as bad or worse.

Fascinating, it feels like these characters most of all have shit
going on with them that has nothing to do with the current situation.

He simply must find the Netromancer and do something. With this plan
set in jello he proceeded to examine the form RDTF-9048-3348.
Aha, the clerk had been sucking up to him tremendously! He held
in his hands a request for access to the Netromancer.

Ohohoho.

He heard a chair roll back inside the office as
the occupant decided to investigate the unusual sounds. He ignored the pleading from behind the door as he drew and quartered the final copy with some relish. Even he flinched slightly at the scream of the truly faceless bureaucrat as the contents of the room were surplussed for later use.

Holy shit. D:

"Brendon Taghe, IRS.", Someone dead had shown Ramaj the trick of showing one badge so that looked like another... It had always stood by
him in an emergency,

Doctor Who-style!

Ramaj thanked his genetic pool
(a thing he wasn't really in the habit of doing) and training for the photographic memory that enabled him to reproduce these arcane sigils
that dated from the Early Hellinstic period, revived and interpret (but,
as evidenced by the legendary status of Xeroxes, never successfully performed) by the Heremetic Office of the Golden Copier.

GAWD there's lots of good crunchy detail in here!

e was poached unless he could bum a light off the Netromancer. He
smiled to himself, at least the disaster played to his strength. Only then did he dare look up at the empty chair behind the desk.

X3 X3 X3 Welp.

He saw
a pocket sized object on the desk and instinctively put it in his pocket.

Point-and-click adventure game protagonist behavior

Suprisingly, the interface was
easy to use, just point and click! Why it took him no time at all to find
the particular code that interested him most, he sent in the restoration of access request. The whole operation was beginning to make sense. In the
new paperless Universal Office, things could get done twice as fast and
one's tracks were easier to cover. He could track down the Eye of
Abraham in a flash... but first there were the NTB's accounts... but
first there was the knowledge... Ramaj's eyes began to dull, his lips thickened with thousand yard concentration. Inside his head a spark
died. The death of that spark sent a message to the body... Its okay,
relax, you are no longer needed by this vacant brain. His entire body
relaxed and his left hand let go of the flash paper.
FOOMPFH! Ramaj tensed up and slammed the chair back against the filing cabinets in animalistic reaction to the sudden flash.

DAMN that's fucking cool

Deft had fun for a moment when he led the two fully fluffed
Fatsoa monsters (whom he had decided were named Ethel and Regular)

hehehehe

Ramaj relaxed his eighty-five pound frame as best he could while knowing that he was about to be hit by a two hundred ten pound engine
going full steam.

D'awwwww

Ramaj's head lolled back for a moment and regarded the sight of rotating, earthworm-like columns of sheets, forms, binders... ahh..
paper products passing through the disintegrating bodies of his
erstwhile antagonists. The ugly blood-spattered beasts had the stink
of Chaos on them.
He found it hard to focus on the questions. He was
so tired, rocked gently to sleep.

Awwwwww!!!

Ramaj reached inside his 'coat and pulled out the Browning 9MM.
The safety was still on... This was not the safest of platforms and he
hated to shoot muzzy-headed, but at least Deft had a plan.

THEY TRUST EACH OTHER SO MUCH :D

T'Fish grogily wakes up in an unfamiliar location. He seems to be sitting
in a huge waiting room of some sort. At one end of the room are three windows each manned by a bureaucrat working on reams of paperwork. At each window is a line of immobile people who wore expressions not unlike extras from "Dawn of the Dead".

As you do, as you do

"Whoa, well it's better than waking up in the gutter like I usually do." T'Fish says as he steadies himself against the all to familiar spin of the previous nights bender.

Good characterization!

He stumbles toward the exit and does a double take.
The room on the other side is exactly the same. He wades through the comatose people and goes through again. Again he finds himself in the same room.

You know, the Universal Office is definitely adjacent to Backrooms-style horror.

"Hmmmm, my hallucinations usually involve giant talking cockroaches that wear lingerie. maybe the workers here can help me."

I've heard of worse!

"But all I want to do is leave this place!" T'Fish pleads.
"Yes, that`s what everyone says...end of the line please."

Heeheehee

"Geezo, I've seen more helpful bouncers at a biker bar."

I've heard bouncers are generally pretty nice people as long as you're
not trying to get in when you're not supposed to.

T'Fish taps the
shoulder of the man in front of him.
"Hey buddy, is this the line to find out how to get out of here?"
*tap* *tap* the man falls over. T'Fish crouches next to him and notices that the man has been dead for some time. Apparantly rigor mortis has set him in
a standing position.

Okay, that's nicely creepy. @-@

Thingfish pushes the man in front of him and causes him to topple over into the
person in front whop does likewise until the whole line collapses like dominoes.

Niiiiice :3

He walks up to the window and notices the clerk is gone. A sign says: CLOSED
USE NEXT WINDOW. T'Fish walks over to the next and sees that that the clerk is mummified and covered with cobwebs.

Also creepy!

He trys the next window and is rewarded
with a clerk that is not only alive, but cheerful too. Strangely enough there is no paperwork on the table. In the background a strangly familiar tune is playing.
"Excuse me...how can I get out of this place?" T'Fish asks.
The clerk smiled as a little drool runs down his chin, and says.
"You can check out anytime you want, but you can never ever leave." Suddenly a guitar solo starts up....
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGH! I'm stuck in the 70's!" T'fish gasps as he starts to cry uncontrollably.

XD XD XD
Drew "Welcome to the Office Universal~" Nilium
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