Today's interaction of note

One of our tech guys walked past our main desk, carrying the CPU from one of our computers that he'd removed several days before to fix.

Plague: The computer is back?

Tech guy: Yep. All fixed.

We applaud him for saying that with a straight face. We'd have said something like "Nope. Just carrying it in here to tell you it's still broken. I find carrying broken computers to be good exercise."

This is pretty much what we looked like, the entire time

 

It's Mo Monday!

Every year, small children across the country eagerly await the arrival of a magical rabbit who bring them a basketful of candy and other treats (which is a really strange tradition when you think about it). This year we warn you: be wary. Mo has found himself a disguise. At a glance, he makes a somewhat convincing Easter Bunny and he's cute enough that people may be inclined to throw caution to the wind. DO NOT APPROACH THIS BUNNY. You might lose a finger, or worse.

We think they might be using the wrong form of "board"

We went to a meeting of our board of directors for the first time this week (that's a whole long story for another time. Don't worry. It's coming). When we arrived at the meeting they had three tables pushed together. Sitting around the tables were the members of the board, a couple of guest speakers, the Hutt, Shoes, and Mosquito. 

Say what now?

Now, the Hutt and Shoes we understand. They are in charge of Tartarus after all. But Mosquito isn't in charge of anyone. She's a peon like the rest of us. 
 
And if Mosquito positioning herself at the table with the bigwigs weren't bad enough, when we arrived there were no chairs set out for any of us. Nor did anyone get up to help us retrieve chairs. There were nearly a dozen members of staff at the meeting but we had to wander around the floor gathering seating for ourselves.

Don't answer the door

It's time once again for Stuff Out of Context! Today's line is:
     The velociraptor is back.

At least he has good manners

The t-shirt story concluded

Remember the email where Opie didn't understand t-shirt sizes? Spoof responded to that email and we thought that was the end of it. We should have known better.

Today Spoof emailed Opie again, since we still hadn't heard back about his shirt size. (Apparently Opie needed a friend to help him figure out his size) Opie finally called Spoof on the interoffice phone line. This is the conversation they had.

Spoof: I really need to order those shirts.

Opie: So, did you need my shirt size?

Spoof: Yes.

Opie: Just one? (We wonder, does Opie have more than one size or feel entitled to more than one shirt?)

Spoof: Yes.

Opie: T-shirt sizes?

Spoof: Yes.

Opie: So you want my size?

Spoof: Yes Opie.

Opie: Oh. Okay. I guess small.

It's Mo Monday!

To be perfectly honest, we're not 100% sure what is happening in this picture. We were at the Goodwill and Mo found this strange frog figurine. He was quite taken with it. We don't know if he's describing something to her or what.

"It's a big world out there, froggy."

Conversation of the day

We overheard this conversation today between Opie and a Tartarus patron.

Patron: Did you hear? It's going to snow this weekend.

Opie: It is? You mean outside?

No, Opie. In your head.

Very happy produce

It's time once again for Stuff Out of Context! Today's line is:
    You really are a watermelon head.
 

Don't bother talking to people

Apparently the Hutt feels even less compulsion to keep us informed than it used to. We now find things out about Tartarus from the newspaper. Wait until you hear this one.

The Hutt is nasty? Shocking

Let's set the scene. Spoof, Speck, and Plague are working the main desk. An elderly patron approaches carrying a plastic bag.

"Here you are, dear," says the lady. "Here's a portable DVD player like you want. I hope I got the right kind."

"Umm...," says Speck. "I don't know anything about any DVD players."

The patron looks strangely at Speck. "It was in the paper a couple of weeks ago. It said you all wanted DVD players."

Speck looks at Spoof. "Do you know anything about this?"

"Nope."

Plague smirks a little and says, "Send her up to the Hutt."

"The Hutt is out of the building," says Speck.

"It was in the office like 15 minutes ago," says Plague.

"Yes, and then it left for a meeting."

"So call Shoes," says Plague.

"Shoes left too. They were going to the meeting together."

Eventually, we decided to take the player up to the Hutt's office with a note. But not before the patron looked at the three of us as if we barely had a braincell between us.

And really, could you blame her?

 We managed to find the newspaper article in question after this encounter and have some idea of what's going on now. But isn't it sad when the public knows more than the employees?

It's Mo Monday!

Tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day and we've been getting ready. Mostly that means dressing up this lawn flamingo as a leprechaun. (And yes it's indoors. It's supposed to be ironic). Obviously this decoration is not meant to fool anyone but it worked on Mo. He's convinced that he has captured the world's largest leprechaun. He spent the last 24 hours torturing this piece of plastic and demanding gold.
 

"The rules say you have to give it to me!"

What else could that mean?

Yesterday, Spoof sent out an email to everyone on staff at Tartarus about ordering t-shirts, asking for everyone's sizes. And this is how Opie replied:

We took a screenshot so no one could question the authenticity of this conversation.

We ask you, what options are there for t-shirt sizes other than the standard small, medium, large, or extra-large?

This is our theoretical reply to Opie's email: 
     How about Q, 37, Red, Slimey, or Rot?

To make this story even better, this morning Opie took Spoof aside and asked "What does t-shirt sizes mean? Does that mean the size of the shirt?"

Opie talking

Us attempting to respond

I could live in that filing cabinet

It's time once again for Stuff Out of Context! Today's line is:
     Get out of the drawer if you're going to talk.
 

The saga completed (please, please, please)

For over a week now we've been relating to you a saga of leaking roof and mold. We couldn't possibly have more, right?

Wrong friends. Very wrong.

We've saved the best for (hopefully) last. This one's about the mold.

When the mold was first discovered we were disgusted. We're talking a patch of wall probably 2 feet wide and 3 feet high absolutely covered in black mold. 

"Man," said Spoof, "that's probably been growing for months. And we've been breathing that in."

Shoes scoffed at that idea. "I don't think so. The Hutt says it's developed from this new leak. We haven't had mold more than a day or two."

"Really," said Spoof. "You believe that."
 
"Of course," said Shoes. "If the Hutt said it it must be true."

Now, we gave them the benefit of the doubt and looked it up. Everything we've read says that black mold takes 2 MONTHS to even BEGIN growing, and that's in warm conditions. It is physically impossible for any black mold, much less the amount we had, to grow in just 2 days. So there, Shoes and the Hutt. Stick that in you pipe and smoke it.

It's Mo Monday!

We made the mistake of watching Godzilla around Mo a couple of weeks ago. He's been kind of monster obsessed ever since. When he found these little plastic cowboys he was far too excited. He immediately set them up in a little town scene. Cute, right?

Cute until this happened. He enjoyed stomping on them far more than setting them up.

Shouldn't we be concerned?

We've been talking about the leak for a week now and we still haven't run out of stories. This one comes to you from last Friday when the discovery and repairs were just beginning.

In the afternoon last Friday, the mold specialists were in Tartarus starting the containment effort. As a result they had equipment everywhere. This equipment included razor blades which they left all over our main desk area. 

"Can I move these out of my work space," said Spoof. "This doesn't feel very safe."

"No," said Shoes. "The workmen might need them."

"But there are kids in the building," said Spoof. "Some of them aren't very well supervised and you know as well as I do that they come up here and grab stuff off of this desk. Someone is going to get hurt."

"Find a way to work around them," said Shoes.

Seriously?

We shouldn't have been surprised at their lack of concern. There were bottles of poison all over the place, right out in the open. On the floor. Right next to the elevator. 

Coming soon at Tartarus, apparently

Most magical apparel

What is the most magical clothing? No, not a witch's hat. Not a cape. Apparently the answer is jeans.

Yup, regular old blue jeans

You might be asking yourself where we would come up with such a ridiculous idea. The simple answer: from the Hutt.

Tartarus was closed this weekend because of the leak. The crew who came in to fix it found black mold. To treat the black mold, they had to spray on a fungicide that can be highly poisonous. As a result, Tartarus had to remain closed on Monday. You'd think that would mean staff had to stay home. Not so, friends. Not so. Staff was required to work in the closed building all day. It might have been okay if we were restricted to non-poison floors but the only area off limits was the main desk, where the mold had been found. 

"You can wear jeans, though," said the Hutt. As if that would make up for working in poison.

Who needs books when you have fruit?

It's time once again for Stuff Out of Context! Today's line is:
     When I went to the library to get my bananas.
 

They let you check out just about anything these days.

I think I'll be sick on Friday

Does this story sound as fishy to you as it does to us?

Yesterday, when getting ready to leave, Mosquito was saying things like "I'm not sure what you all will need for tomorrow." Then, while walking out the door she said, "I'll see you all on Friday." We knew that Mosquito had taken Wednesday and Thursday off. That didn't account for today. We figured she must have also taken today off and it just wasn't on the schedule.

This morning, arriving at Tartarus, we were told that Mosquito had "called out sick" (on Facebook of all things. Is that a thing now? Do people do that where you work?). 

"Huh," said Plague. "I thought it was scheduled. That's what she told me yesterday."

Shoes, who was a part of this conversation, just about took Plague's head off. "No!" she snapped. "Mosquito is sick."

Do they think we are idiots?

It's Mo Monday!

There is a shop in our town that has some odd metal sculptures in the windows. While passing by today, Mo spotted this banjo playing frog. He was quite taken with it. We thought. We figured he was "hearing" it's imaginary spirited music and half expected him to start dancing. Then we heard him muttering about "caterwauling" and "infernal racket" and "frying up frog legs." After that it was all we could do to drag him away.