There are clients touring our office this afternoon, so a few days ago we got the “clean up your sty cell cubicle” e-mail from the Big Boss. I never do too much cleaning for these events, because an empty desk is a sign of an empty mind.

Thanks to the power of the ‘net, you’ll never know whether I managed to keep a straight face while typing that. Heh.

Every time a client tour is about to come through, I always picture myself in a small room at the end of a dark corridor; behind a door which reads, “Beware: CAD Monkey Sector.” When the tour comes by, Big Boss warns them, “that’s where all the production people are. We don’t go in there.” One hapless tourist sneaks closer to the door to peek through the small window at what lies inside. He sees me, sitting at my desk, hunched forward, scowling at the monitor (life inspires fiction, no?). I turn my head towards the view window and snarl at him; lunging out of my chair, against my chains

The tourist scampers off, whimpering.

He can't say they didn't warn him.