Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The
chewing grew louder from the other side of the cubicle. Crunch. Crunch. What
was she eating? Chips? Crackers? A granola bar?
Human bones? Once your imagination
takes hold, there’s no turning back.
So human bones it was.
Disgusting. Just imagine: a cannibal working next to Joe Smivey. Even Joe’s boss Mr. Dalton had no clue. The police probably didn’t know
either. No, Joe was the only one
with this crucial piece of information. The only one to know there was a
cannibal in their midst.
Now
what was a cannibal doing working in the IT department of the HR department of
a PR firm? That’s BS. She must have some ulterior motive for
being here. Probably eating
people. Yeah, that would make
sense.
What
was her favorite part of the human to eat? The femur? No,
it was probably ear cartilage.
Yeah, that’s probably the tastiest part, lots of fat. Not that Joe would by any means want to
try it, he quickly reminded himself.
He shook his head in disgust and turned back to his bottomless email
inbox. Now that’s a feat of
physics.
Crunch. Crunch.
Okay,
that is definitely not a cracker.
There is no question that she’s munching on a snack of human bones. No question about it. Joe was no anthropologist, but he was
positive. And it repelled him as
if he were confronted with another positive source. He decided he needed to take action. If he didn’t, who knew, maybe Joe would
be next. And after that, the
world.
Joe
slowly got out of his chair and stood up.
Now what was her name? He
knew he should have been more sociable.
Well, too late for that now.
And maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t mingled with a cannibal. Joe started to lean over the cubicle
divider but quickly retreated. No,
that would be too obvious. If he
did that, she would probably leap up at him, grab his face, and devour him in
one gulp. A sneakier method was
needed.
Crunch. Crunch.
Never
mind, no time to plan. Action must
be taken immediately. Just think
of the innocent children. With the
innocent children image fresh in his mind, Joe leapt around the cubicle wall,
screaming nonsense, anything to get his coworker’s attention off her human
snack and the rest of his officemates’ attention onto this crime against
humanity.
Joe
landed and accusatorily pointed a shaking finger at her. She looked up at him quizzically. Everyone else in the office also shared
her expression. Joe looked down at
her hands. A cracker. A plain, old cracker. Not a piece of human bone or scrap of
flesh in sight. She slowly,
cautiously raised up her hand and took a bite out of the cracker.
Crunch. Crunch.
Cracker
crumbs fell out of her mouth, getting stuck between the keys on her computer
keyboard. Awfully clumsy for an IT
person. But that’s beside the
point. The point—and Joe was still
pointing at her, not knowing what else to do—was that she was not a cannibal.
“Can
I help you?” she asked Joe.
“Uh.” Joe couldn’t get out a word,
understandably.
His
coworker bent down and reached into her purse. She pulled out something long and white.
“I
don’t know about you, but I’m still starving. Femur?”
No comments:
Post a Comment