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Haven't posted much recently, mostly because of problems at the "other job".



Somebody, who shall remain nameless, because I don't know their name, and if I ever find them it won't matter what their name was, decided to play a practical joke on the rest of the world. They stole a boat in Chile, and took a quick expedition west out into the Pacific Ocean, happening upon some very specific ancient ruins, which are quite specifically not supposed to be disturbed. Somehow, this stealthy prankster snuck past the guards, and left a very tricky trap behind in the middle of the ruined city, a very large, powerful alarm clock.

For all that bullshit about "eternal slumber" and "never waking" and about how he cannot wake until the stars are right, Dread Cthulhu is a surprisingly light sleeper. It took about three seconds for the alarm clock to rouse him, after which he promptly laid waste to several ancient buildings, flattened an undersea mountain range, and had words with his sleepless guards about the state of security. I'm not quite sure what he said because his servents were driven mad(der), but I have a fair idea of what it sounded like.

Then he came down to the office to complain.

Apparently he was dreadfully upset at being wakened before the proper time, since he doesn't get to carry the powers of the Elder Gods along with him. Having been roused from his slumber possibly eons ahead of schedule, he was demanding that we find some way to recompense him for his powerless state.

Samantha, who is the only one of us with even a shred of diplomacy in her soul, tried to work out a compromise with himm. Sam is a wonderful girl and all of us love her, probably because she has her innocence intact. She's a petite blond girl, shorter than average, who looks like she would blush at the mention of sex, and faint at the sight of porn. She also makes good coffee, good conversation, and tends to be cheery enough to counter Daren's never-ending cycle of emo gloom.

So I get back from doing something to hear Sam telling him "We'll do what we can, within reason. And don't you try getting fresh with me, old man, or you're going out of here in a box." This argument apparently did not go well.

About noon, Sam told him to either fix his own damn problems or cough up some cash for an extra hire.

Just after that, Cthulhu tried the old "tentacle up the leg of a girl wearing a skirt" trick.

There were a great many loud noises after that, along with a very drawn-out squelching sound. At this point one of the Summerlords dropped by to hand us the latest list of servants that had been accidentally summoned out of his domain and hence gone missing.

"By the way," he said, on his way out the door, "the woman in the front office appears to be cramming an Elder God into a very small box."

"Does he look happy about it?" I asked.

There was a loud roar of frustration in the background.

The Summerlord thought about it. "Not particularly, no."

I lifted the papers to shield my face. "I just work here."

A few minutes later, Sam came by my desk. I don't know how she does it, but she didn't look like she had even a hair out of place. She dropped a box in front of me. It was a fairly small cardboard box salvaged from an Amazon.com shipment, wrapped heavily in packing tape. There was a tentacle sticking out of one corner.

"Could you FedEx this to Dread R'lyeh?" she asked me, brushing her hands off.

I looked at the box like it was going to bite me. The box moved along the table. I could hear something inside muttering in a language that had the primal definition of insanity stamped on it. "I'll think about it." I said.

Which leaves me with the dilemma I have now, which is the box that is still on my desk. On one hand, I should probably mail it off soon to get rid of it. On the other hand, I really don't want to touch that thing. So I'm just staring at it, for now. And it's staring right back at me.

Anybody else got any ideas?

(no subject)

Date: 2006-11-20 05:41 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Given the intelligence of your race it is lucky that I can find even one of you hairless baboons capable of understanding even the tiniest portion of my magnificence. It is a wonder that you even understand how to stand one stone on top of another. But, given that you continue to hold me captive, I must admit that you have even less intelligence than I had given you credit for.

(no subject)

Date: 2006-11-20 05:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] danalwyn.livejournal.com
Why, is this a cardboard box in front of me? Yes it is. And is this a can of gasoline next to my desk? Why yes it is. And what do you know. Is this a butane lighter in my hand? Well, it does appear to be so.

Unless you want to discover what it's like to have front-row seats at a barbecue, I would suggest that you simmer down. I've got other stuff to work on you know.

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