“Where are you going, Vera?” Tracy asked as she walked by his office.
“Just paying it forward,” Vera held up the box of staples. Reaching Lynn's office, she cracked the door cautiously. Looking behind her, she jumped, “God, Tracy, could you not move so quietly?”
“Next time I’ll cough like this, ‘eh-heh,’” Tracy faked a cough into the crook of his elbow.
Vera slipped into Lynn's office, sliding the top drawer of his desk open. She froze for a moment, entranced by the feng shui of the contents. Carefully she picked up his box of staples and slid it open. “Tracy,” she pulled out a row of blue staples, “Did you do this?”
“Yeah, he hates the colored ones. They stick together when you try to staple,” Tracy grinned.
“Are there any good staples in this building, or did you hit everyone?”
“Come hither,” Tracy waved her into his office. As she followed him, she could hear someone swearing from across the room. “That's Sarah,” Tracy stage whispered, “I magnetized hers.” Tracy hefted a briefcase onto the desk. He dialed a code, then popped it open with gangster flair. Nestled inside was box after box of staples, still in the shrink wrap.
“Alright, what do you want in exchange for that suitcase?” Vera ran her finger down the row of boxes.
Tracy snapped the briefcase shut, “No touchy. What I want is chaos, disruption, and general mayhem.”
Vera shrugged. She had little doubt Tracy would get what he wanted. He always got what he wanted. “I’ll just go ask Keith,” she turned her back to him.
“Oh, you’ll be back,” Tracy crooned, “They always come back.”
Five people surrounded Keith’s desk. “Don't shoot the messenger,” Keith held up a box of staples, “but this is all I have and it's empty. Someone ransacked the supply closet. I’ve ordered more, but they won't be here until tomorrow.”
“Workaround,” Vera suggested sarcastically, “just xerox everything and set the copier to staple.”
Sarah opened her mouth to protest, then changed her mind, “That would actually work.”
“The trees are crying,” Walter shook his head.
When she returned to her desk, there was a box of candies on top of a packet held together with a blue staple.
Tracy appeared above her cube wall, “Aren’t you going to come ask me about the staples again?”
“Nope,” Vera opened the box and shook out a candy, “I don’t need them.”
“Veeeeera,” Tracy whined, “c’mon and have fun with me.”
“Is there something you actually need from me?” Vera rattled her spacebar, “If not, I kind of have work to do.”