>>944872
Jones Raminez

>>944882
"RAMINEZ!"

You hear a voice shout, you wince as you turn around to see a friendly face. It wasn't that Lee Fox was a bad person, he had a peculiar personality and was nice enough, but just tried way too hard to be liked.

"Hey Lee..."

"Jonesy did you meet the new boss? He's a hard cunt" Lee giggled "the Stone sisters are trying to get Earnest in trouble"

"Why?"

"I dunno" Lee shrugged, smiling in a way that just too... something, loud?

"You gonna help?" he asks, you have actual shit to do, and Earnest is really a great guy, but the real work is boring and Ernie's reaction could be funny...

>Help the Stones mess with Ernie
>Do you job
>write-in

>>944909
>Help the Stones mess with Ernie

>>944914
"You're really gonna help them!" Lee giggled some more, cupping both his hands to his mouth and turning red. Lee was 35.

"Yep" you mutter, the Stones were in building B, the check-in, where you were, is in building D. You begin heading there.

Donna and Roberta Stone are not sisters, Lee calls them sisters because they are a year a part age wise and have the same surname.

Going up the staircase to building C you see Earnest Mann, an old and tired guy with sagging facial features.

"Hey Jones" he whistles, barely above a whisper

"Hey Ernie" you nod.

Finally at building B, you see Donna first, she is a fat and catty woman with wig-esque dirty blond hair and skin the color of burnt pumpkin seeds.

"Hey, Jones" she creaks "what'd'ya need?"

"Are you and Roberta messing with Ernie?"

"Fucking Lee" she quells, then phlegmy coughs "you tellin'?"

"Nope, helping"

A smile rips into her grim steak face "Ooh"

Roberta walks into the cubicle.

"Jones' helping us, Bob" Donna says, her smile malignantly finds a crevice onto Roberta's face now.

"Oh? Good! Ernie's too fucking nice, hate his ass" Roberta states, opinion carried like a fact "Let's get him fired!"

Whoa, whoa fired? That's not what Lee had implied, this changes shit, drastically.

>Back out, say nothing about it
>Tell the new boss
>Go through with it anyway
>write-in

>>944965
>Go through with it anyway

>>944965
> do eeet
That's one employee saved I guess. Afterwards we can burn this place to the ground before it gets gassed.

>>944988
>>945011

"So, uh, how's this going down?" you ask

Donna claps her clubby arms together, sending water-bed ripples across her tan and brown-speckled flabs.

"We know of a niece he has" Donna spits "she's coercible, will say anything to anyone if she's threatened the right way"

You don't follow, she continues:

"Say someone who looks trustworthy" she coughs your name "told her that if she said her uncle raped her, he'd be safe in jail from the bad guys"

"What bad guys?" you inquire

"Fuh-ck, I'unno" she scoffs "make shit up, doesn't matter, one conviction later then his ass is grass"

"It was my idea" Roberta pipes up then descends into a chokey-laugh, coming back to shrill out "he's old, older than I'll be, what with my heart" she pounds her ragged chest, ape style, "'bout time someone took 'im down a peg"

This plan was getting more malicious by the second, but with your butt planted back at your cubicle and a new contact on your phone (how did the Stones get this number anyway?), you got to decide whether or not you'll call Ernie's niece and set the plan into motion.

>Do it, you're in too deep now
>What the fuck? Report this shit immediately!
>Don't bother with any of it, forget the conversation had happened and do office shit.
>write-in

>>945057
>Do it, you're in too deep now
Aaaaaah!

>>945094

"Hello?" the girl on the phone asks.

"Hey kiddo, my name's Jones and I work with your uncle Ernie"

"Oh, okay, is there something wrong?"

"I'm afraid so, you see, there are people that are after him"

"What?" she gasps, on the verge of tears "Who? Why?

"Well..." you begin suddenly started by another voice

"Hey Jones!" a petit girl, Sue Laurens, practically yelps.

Sue is probably the only decent person at this shit-hole, and like magnets you've liked each other since day 1 of working here.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry! I didn't see you that you were on the phone!" she sorrows, but still someone in a up-beat bubbly way.

You lower the phone. "Oh, it's fine I'm just..."

Shit, what are you doing? Convincing a little girl to convict her kindly uncle? You can't tell Sue that, but is she just going to stand there, waiting? Fuck.

>Tell Sue that you're
Actually fuck it, I want to see how you will get out of this mess, no suggestions.

>>945146
>"Well, honey, your uncle did some very bad things and you're the only one who can help. I know this will be...hard for you bug I know you can do it."
Not very good with convincing people.

>>945171

"Well, honey, your uncle did some very bad things and you're the only one who can help. I know this will be...hard for you but I know you can do it."

You glance up at Sue nervously, she has a curious look on her face.

"Who's uncle?" she mouths, not actually saying the words.

"I don't understand" your attention is brought back to the phone, the girl is talking "is that why the people are after him?"

"...yes" you say, Sue is still looking at you, she speaks:

"Who are you talking to?"

"Um..."

"WHAT DID HE DO!?!?" shrieks the phone's speaker, loud enough for the entire row you're in to hear.

"Turn that shit down!" someone bellows, presumably a co-worker (new guy?), Sue cringes at the cacophony suddenly surrounding her.

"Uh, uh..." you're completely flustered, this was going to shit, the plan was garbage-fire, and the world seems to be clawing and tearing at you from some inhospitable abyss.

>Back out, end the call, apologize to Sue, clear this up now. (Roll 1d3, a 3 indicates this blows over smoothly, 1 or 2 means it gets more complicated)
>Keep this diarrhea train going (Roll 1d10, the higher the number, the better it goes)
>write-in

Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>945231
>Back out, end the call, apologize to Sue, clear this up now. (Roll 1d3, a 3 indicates this blows over smoothly, 1 or 2 means it gets more complicated)
>>Keep this diarrhea train going (Roll 1d10, the higher the number, the better it goes)

>>945231
> bail
Oh, wrong number, heh

What the fuck. Getting the arrested in a falsified rape claim is a little different than getting him died. He would probably get his ass kicked in the slammer for it too

>>945284 rolled 3 <---
>>945385

"Uh, never mind, sorry" you say, hanging up "It was... a dare"

Sue looks at you, she has a eagle thing going on, her gaze pierces you, and you feel as if she's scrolling through past events, ready to find the Stone 'sister' conversation that would solidify not only the end to the friendship (or more?) but also get your ass fired as well.

Then all at once, by some lucky fucking miracle, she believes you, smirking, saying:

"Lee's idea?"

"Yeah, haha"

"Lee's is... Lee's just..."

"I know, I know" you mumble, glancing around the office, you stand up and speak again:

"Sorry about the noise!"

"Whatever" the new-guy responds, tensions turn to key-clicks and customer support calls as the conflict resolves itself... mostly. You're still not sure what to about Lee and the Stones, they're dangerous.

"Well..." Sue starts, pulling you from the racing thoughts, crashing thoughts...

"Yeah?"

"I didn't come here just to say hi" she smiles, it's a real smile, not a Donna smile or a Roberta smile and it's especially not a fucking Lee smile "the new boss wanted to talk to you, apparently he emailed you this morning?"

Of course, you didn't check.

"Oh"

"Yeah, he didn't say what it was for" she shrugged "Maybe something bad? Hope not! I don't much about Snake, heard some things, not all great"

"Snake?" you ask, is this new boss really named after the evil bible reptile?

"Yeah, Mr. Snake, boss Snake, Sir Snake" she tried, laughing. Cute. "But whatever his name is, you should probably go talk to him"

You begin to head to the boss' office (building E), Sue runs up to you again.

"Want me to go with you?"

"Uh..." you stammer, finally saying:

>"Yes", why not? It'll calm your nerves.
>"No", if you decide to tell your boss about the mischievous cunts in the workplace, it would be awkward with Sue seeing you having just lied to her.
>write-in

gonna take a quick break to cook myself dinner, I'll check stuff when I'm back.

>>945423
>"No", if you decide to tell your boss about the mischievous cunts in the workplace, it would be awkward with Sue seeing you having just lied to her.

>>945423
> Yes
Maybe on the way we can find an empty meeting room and fuck?

I don't think we should tell boss snake about the naughty people in case they get fired and then don't get karmicly gassed

>>945791
I'll just switch to move things along.

File: schmidt.jpg (142 KB, 1221x681)

142 KB JPG

>>945616
>>945797

"Sure, come along" you smile at her, she does a little dance thing and follows on your heels.

On your way to building E, you pass Donna Stone, on break, she winks at you as you pass, you shudder.

"What's that all about" Sue peers, she's really nosey today, you think, of all fucking days.

"Donna's weird" you give. The words go in the air, Sue seems wrestle them in her mind, she might be suspicious of what's been going on, she looks at you, tentative, then responds, simply:

"True"

-

You get to building E, which the boss' office is near the entrance of. You swallow reflexively, what's going to happen? Will this new boss kill you, which seems ridiculous yet also scarily obvious given his reputation and recent events, that of which are hoping haven't risen to the surface of office rumors.

You knock, a 'come in' is heard and you and Sue enter.

"Mister... Snake?" you guess, hopeful, closing the door behind you.

"Snake is derogatory" your boss bellows

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You see the name-tag on his desk: Dieter Schmidt. But what lies behind is beyond comprehension.

He's not called snake, he is one. At least, that what it has to be, right? What else can even describe what you're seeing. It is now that you realize that all you can do is focus on Dieter as he moves and sways, completely distracting you from everything. He speaks:

"Hello, Mr. Raminez, Ms. Laurens"

"Hello" the lady next to you replies, who is she? Who are you, for that matter? Where are you? Doesn't matter, Mr. Schmidt is talking, better listen.

"I wanted to meet with you personally, Jones" he starts, you feel the room... blacken? Dim? Decrease? "take a seat"

Something's off, a voice in the back of your mind protests, there's no such thing as talking snakes, then again, that voice better shut the fuck up, Mr. Schmidt asked you to take a seat!

>Take a seat
>Take a seat
>Take a seat
>Take a seat
>write-in (roll 5 or higher on 1d10)

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>945946
>"I prefer to stand if you don't mind, sir."

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>945946
this >>945996
Is Schmidt your real name?

>>946019
nice

>>945996
"I prefer to stand if you don't mind, sir." you say, remaining to stand

Dieter moves back a bit, the corners of mouth turn upward into something of a... smile?

Under the trance, you felt hollow, now: you feel warm, very warm. Sue, still statuesque, has a look of calm horror as she stands there, frozen.

"Apologies for that" then, Dieter breathes something almost a sigh, almost a sentence, causing things to go back to normal again.

Well, normal-ish, the snake remains, though you see him as he is, raw, not entranced, but strangely, not in fear either.

>>946019
"Is Schmidt your real name?" you ask quickly, urgently, you catch him off-guard completely, he speaks before he wants to.

"Yes" he says "and I'm real too"

He slides himself limblessly across the desk and over to you, you catch a breath that you'd been holding since you asked that question without realizing it.

"My father, Wilhelm started this company" he begins, he had a certain ebb and flow to him, invasively likable, almost "he died, I own it now"

"You're dad died?" it's Sue, she is entirely aloof and unbothered about the site of the giant snake in front of her, whether this is niceness or her lack of ability to recognize what's happening is unclear "that's so sad. I'm sorry"

"Shh..." Dieter whispers, with a literal forked tongue, Sue nods and sits down, staring at the wall, engaged it it's solidness.

You come to the horrific conclusion that Dieter has been wrapping himself around you throughout this entire conversation. You're up to your shoulders in snake coils, you don't feel pressure yet.

Internally, you're freaking out, you don't let it show, at least, you hope it doesn't show, how terrified you are.

>Struggle (roll 1d100, 65-80 to loosen yourself, 81-100 to get free)
>Tell him about the cunts
>write-in

Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>946171
>Struggle (roll 1d100, 65-80 to loosen yourself, 81-100 to get free)

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>946171
>Struggle (roll 1d100, 65-80 to loosen yourself, 81-100 to get free)

>>946171
>write-in
"Y-You wanted to see me about something, sir?"

Why are we struggling? He seems like a nice nek. He even apologised about trying to mind control us.

>>946181 <-- Rolled first at 89
>>946186

With the strength of something uncanny, you push and slide yourself out of the coils in a semi-fluid motion, now on your legs, you move yourself to the back of the room, near the door.

"Wait!" Dieter yells, he feels, too loudly, then gets quieter "Hadn't noticed I was doing that"

Uh-huh, you'd leave, but then Sue would be alone in the room with... it

"You're surprisingly dexterous" he purrs "so nimble too"

His eyes, red-black marbles, dead, well, should be dead, flicker in excitement.

"Ms. Laurens, leave me and Jones to speak in private, please" Dieter says politely, but mechanically.

Without a single word or look of acknowledgement, Sue just walks out the door.

As quickly as he slid the first time, Dieter moves to the back of his desk like a shadow, and structures in his demeanor a facade of professionalism.

"Now that you feel more..." he looks for the word, never breaking eye contact with you, unnerving "safe, why don't you take a seat?"

>Take a seat (willingly)
>State your business and leave
>Quit the job, right there, right now
>write-in

>>946297
>Take a seat (willingly)
Fine but no more sneaky tricks.

>>946297
>Take a seat (willingly)

>>946297
>Take a seat (willingly), then ask why he wanted to see you
Right. Business meeting. BUSINESS. And if he invites us to a working lunch make sure to ask what is on the menu before accepting.

>>946307
>>946318
>>946356

You trudge back to your seat, ever wary of some bullshit M̶r̶.̶ ̶S̶n̶a̶ Mr. Schmidt might pull.

"I wanted to talk to you" his gaze focuses off you (finally) and onto the tip of his tail as he twirls against the desk like one would a pen "about a possible... promotion"

Your eyes snap to Dieter almost accusingly, he makes it obvious that he enjoys your attention. He dares to lean in closer, risking your comfort to bridge the physical gap between the two of you.

"Of course, I can't just give it to you" his gaze is steady, relaxing even, you don't allow yourself to be relaxed "quid pro quo, you would need to earn it somehow"

He raises himself more, giving you, unwittingly, a fuller view of his scaly noodle body. To be fair, he has a nice color scheme of scales, and he 'fitter' than most people in the office.

You decide to humor him, just a bit:

"Alright, how do I earn the promotion"

"I don't know" he plays coy, gets closer, you play smart, moving back an inch or so "have any suggestions"

>Tell him about the cunts
>Let Mr. Schmidt decide how he wants to conduct business in his own company.
>write-in

>>946418
>Tell him about the cunts
I guess we can throw our colleagues under the buss if it is for a good cause. Would still rather they got gassed but whatever.

What do we even do in our current roll?

>>946418
>Tell him about the cunts
I thought he would say to have sex with him. Not that I would mind...

If we get promoted to a high enough position do we get to add a custom scent to the gas?

>>946436
>>946466

"I have some information about a few of my co-workers" you reply, neutrally.

"Hmm" he sighs, recoiling, not in disgust, but out of practicality to move back into his chair "what specifically?"

You feel a moment of relief that the talking reptile has stopped ogling you for a minute.

"Donna Stone and Roberta Stone confided in me their desires to sabotage the career of Earnest Mann" you spoke, doing your best to enunciate this information clearly to Mr. Schmidt, who, despite all actions and appearances, was still your boss "I was given this information under the guise that I would be complicit in this act"

You breathed, Schmidt was looking at you in what you half assumed, half hoped was a serious and business-like expression.

"Lee Fox had tipped me off to investigate this in the first place" you re-compose yourself "but I believe Mr. Fox was to take part in this illegal act as well"

You look at your boss with a rigid posture and without emotion.

"Interesting" is all he says for several moments "Alright, you have the rest of the day off, I'll inform you on your status of your promotion tomorrow"

You are completely baffled by this, for a while you stand at that spot, Schmidt speaks to you a final time:

"Come to my office for thing in the morning" his voice is growing warmer and more transparent in intentions, uh oh "don't keep me waiting"

If he had eyelids you know he would have winked, you just know it.

>Leave work, start TUESDAY
>write-in things to do before you leave for home.

>>946574
>write-in things to do before you leave for home.
Go to the pub and order a snake bite. After drinking it realize that was a mistake and get something tastier to wash it, and the memories of this bizzare day, down. If you are still capable of doing stuff at end of work time see if Sue (who is not a boy) wants to join you.

>>946574
>Go get drunk

>>946600
>>946628

What a fucking day!

At a bar, what's this place called? Fuck if you remember, or care to remember, or care at all.

You check your watch, 6:45 PM, you've been here for a bit, making bad decisions. A snake bite, seriously? Was that some kind of Freudian slip? Maybe your ophidiophobia is turning into ophidiophilia, maybe you're drunk.

>>946600
You call Sue, you have her number, you have her number and you call Sue.

"Hello?" t̶h̶e̶ ̶p̶h̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶s̶p̶e̶a̶k̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶m̶a̶g̶i̶c̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ Sue responds.

"Hey Sue"

"Oh hey, Jones! Sorry, I couldn't come with you to see the new boss, is he nice? Or is he as mean as everyone says he is?"

Wait what?

"Huh?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Yeah, some people say he's mean but I bet it's---"

"No, no, what do you mean you didn't come with me..."

"I wanted to but I couldn't, had a thing, what was that thing? Can't remember right now, but I had a thing, sorry. Where are you? Want to meet?"

She doesn't remember, she didn't remember a single thing that happened. Why are snakes so scary?

>Invite her to the bar, tell her what happened
>Invite her to the bar, don't tell her what happened
>Don't invite her to the bar, tell her what happened
>Say 'bye' and hang up
>write-in

>>946703
>Invite her to the bar, don't tell her what happened

>>946721

"Yeah, let's meet, I'm at bar"

"Ooh, Jonesy drinking all alone? We can't have that!"

"Nope!"

"Which bar?"

You shrug, before remembering that people can't you shrug over the phone.

"I don't know, guess?"

You hear laughter, it's your phone.

"You, you want me to just drive around, checking every bar to see if you're in it?"

"Hehe, yee-up"

"Right... but no, c'mon, what's the name?"

You look around the room, finally placing your eyes on a sign that has the name.

"Anna Conda's" you say, proudly, exchanging good-bye's and hanging up.

Something about the name bothers you, but you can't place it at the moment, you order another drink, you starting to develop a liking for snake bites.

---
--
-

10:15 PM, you and Sue have been out here way too long, but like dumb-asses both of you drove here, and you're low on cash.

"I'll pay for an uber" she laughs "stop worrying"

"No don't, I'm in lieu for a promotion, I don't need you to be paying for my stuff"

Sue keeps laughing.

"You're being silly!"

"No"

"Yes"

"..."

You pause for a moment, remember where you are, and continue:

"I'll figure it out!" you proclaim

>Let Sue pay for you to get an uber
>Drive home drunk (roll 1d10, 7-10 is safe, 4-6 is fender-bender, 1-3 is crash)
>Walk home (you live 4 miles away)
>write-in

>>946834
>Let Sue pay half for you to get an uber

>>946703
>Invite her to the bar, don't tell her what happened
But don't try to keep it a secret either. Casually make snake jokes all the time. Our board members are all snake charmers. Some of our coworkers are downright venemous. Boss is pretty tense, like he is coiled up for some reason.

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>946834
>Drive home drunk (roll 1d10, 7-10 is safe, 4-6 is fender-bender, 1-3 is crash)
we are gonna die in a few days anyway

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>946864
>Drive home drunk (roll 1d10, 7-10 is safe, 4-6 is fender-bender, 1-3 is crash)
I guess I'll switch

>>946864

"Half!" you exclaim, the world will know!

"..." Sue ponders "half what?"

"You pay half, I pay half, that should be enough"

"How, uh, how much do ya got?" Sue's getting the picture now.

"Lemme check" you mumble and pull out your wallet.

It's empty.

"Uh, I don't"

"Hmm?"

"I don't have anything"

"You don't have anything?"

"Nope! Haha, good thing for that promotion, right?"

"Jones..." Sue looks at you, she has an unreadable expression "...let me pay"

"No"

"Please"

"No"

"Alright, promise me you won't drive drunk?"

You give her a winning smile.

"I promise"

>>946873 rolled 8 first <---
>>946890

Like every other aspect of today, you have an unusually high amount of luck when it comes to reckless decision making, driving home drunk without incident.

"Life is short" you think to yourself, a bit forlorn "but I'm going to live forever"

You pass out on the couch.

---

Alrighty, I'm going to give the illusion of real time and start TUESDAY tomorrow, congratz on surviving MONDAY, you might just make it long enough to live to see yourself die on THURSDAY, but let's not get a head of ourselves.

>>946934
We can do it.

TUESDAY

You wake up, groggily, to the room spinning and your heart racing, oh shit. you're hungover. This sucks, what makes it worse is the fucking SIRENS in your ear.

You turn off your alarm, 7:30 AM, you have to be at work by 9, otherwise you wouldn't put it past Mr. Schmidt to use this as leverage to do... things.

Attempting a stand, you fall face-first on the carpet, your mouth is dry, you feel like shit, you smell like shit, these need to be remedied before you drive to work.

>Shower first, will wake you up (roll 1d4, 1 it takes you 15 minutes, 2 takes 20, 3 takes 25, 4 takes 30)
>Make breakfast, you don't have balance yet (5 minutes to make, 5 minutes to eat, you can leave for work without doing this, you've done it before)
>Sleep for 5 more minutes (roll 1d2, a 1 makes the time it takes to do things 25% faster, a 2 makes things 25% slower)

Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>948025
>Shower first, will wake you up (roll 1d4, 1 it takes you 15 minutes, 2 takes 20, 3 takes 25, 4 takes 30)
Then try to force down some greasy carbs, scientifically proven as the best thingfor a hangover.

Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>948025
>>Shower first, will wake you up (roll 1d4, 1 it takes you 15 minutes, 2 takes 20, 3 takes 25, 4 takes 30)

>>948500
>>948638

You haggardly stumble into the shower, it feels nice, well sort of, the water is loud, and you spend a bit of time just staring at tiles, making the activity take a bit longer than usual.

7:50 AM

You check the fridge, there is a selection of meats, nothing rancid but nothing all that appetizing either. Knowing that the drive to work will be extra hellish, you decide to make something quick; you take a precooked burger patty and try to absorb some grease with a paper towel to moderate success. You set it in the microwave for 2-ish minutes, then parade about your place like a corpse shocked at the nerves to stimulate movement.

8:10 AM

Dressed, fed, and mostly not awful looking you flee the house to the car, unscathed surprisingly from the night before, and turn the ignition. Now that you're mostly able to achieve clear cognitive thought, panic begins to seep into your fore-brain.

The route you usually take to work normally gets you there in 1 hour, meaning you'd be for sure late. There is an alternate route, but if the traffic is bad on it (and it usually is), you could end up being even later. Before you leave, you need to make a decision.

>Standard route, get there at 9:10
>Alternate route (roll 1d20, 1-5 arrives at 8:45, 6-10 arrives at 9:00, 7-15 arrives at 9:15, 16-20 arrives at 9:30)

>>948662
>Standard route, get there at 9:10
Bitch can't be pissed at being 10 minutes late. I'm sure a lot of people turn up to work and have a coffee and a chat before getting anything done.

I hope we get enough of a raise to afford some nice snakeskin boots.

>>948662
>Standard route, get there at 9:10

>>948685
>>948730
9:10 AM

In a more risk-averse mood, you drive the typical route, and check-in precisely 10 minutes late. In all honesty, more than half of your co-workers weren't here yet, though, the one who was always early and always waiting to 'greet' the late comers with snarky comments was Lee, who was no where to be found, strange.

With a drowsy sense of dread, you trek to see your boss in building E, of course his door is open and of course, he's been poised at his desk, eagerly awaiting you.

"Jones!" he exclaims, "You're here! Finally!"

"Yeah..." you already have bad feelings about this, and he hasn't even groped you yet "apologies for the lateness"

Dieter comes in close to you (shit) and is accompanied by a familiar feeling of unease.

"Don't worry" he grins "I expect at your new job there will be more than a few instances of... professionalism"

At once you realize that you never asked what the new job will be, Dieter automatically follows your thought process:

"I've been needing an assistant for a while now" he starts, you feel the desire to groan, but suppress it "now I know you'll need time to warm up to me, but I vouch that your salary will increase dramatically"

At this revelation you aren't sure how you should feel, at the one hand, it is a promotion and higher pay grade, both of those things objectively having a positive impact on your life, on the other hand, as Mr. Schmidt's assistant, you'll have to assist him, which could entail certain... well, Mr. Schmidt hasn't acted exactly hidden about how he views you.

>Accept the promotion
>Tell your boss you are no longer interested, keep your current job
>write-in

>>948822
>Accept the promotion
Nice double dubs

>>948822
>Accept the promotion
"Jones! Polish my scales."

>>948846
>>948855

"Alright, I accept the promotion"

"Never thought you wouldn't!" he laughs, laughs! The snake can laugh!

"As you first task as my assistant" he tastes the word, and loves the taste dearly "I want you tell Donna and Roberta that they're fired for me"

Relief and anxiety create a whirlwind in your mind and body, an endorphin and a paralyses at once. The snake isn't fucking you, yet, but he has asked you to treat the company tumors.

"Uh, what, uh..." you begin stammering, more afraid now, somehow, than when you were wrapped in coils "what exactly should I tell them?"

The snake serviced a self-styled shoulderless shrug.

"Simply inform them that their behavior puts forth a poor representation of what this company values" he curls his tail around your collar area and turns you so you're facing the door "now, off you go... assistant"

---

In building B's bathroom, you flush your vomit down the toilet.

How am I going to do this? you ponder, nervously. The Stones are cancerous and vindictive assholes who's daily motivations and reasons for living are spite.

>Go to Donna first, say the exact thing Schmidt told you to say
>>Go to Roberta first, say the exact thing Schmidt told you to say
>Get them both together, say the exact thing Schmidt told you to say
>Go to Donna first, say something else
>Go to Roberta first, say something else
Get them both together, say something else
>write-in

>>948920
>Go to Roberta first, say the exact thing Schmidt told you to say
And have that guy they wanted you to frame with us. With our arm around our shoulders and a smug grin on our face.

>>948920
>>Go to Roberta first, say the exact thing Schmidt told you to say

>>948936
>>948942

You dust yourself off, wash up in the sink, and began making your way to building C, you have a plan.

You overhear a conversation between Ernie and another co-worker, you can't place the voice.

"She had called me, she was freaking out"

"Do you know who'd made the call?"

"She said someone named Jones"

"Isn't there a guy who works here named Jones?"

"Yeah, but he's not the type to make prank phones, at least, not as long as I known him, I think it was someone else named Jones"

"How many people do you know named Jones, though? Most people don't introduce themselves by their last names, so I doubt it was Ted"

"Hmm..."


Ernie's on to you, looks like her niece told him about the call. Shit, he would've been a good accessory to bring when crushing the parasite that is Roberta Stone.

>Go back to building B, confront Roberta alone
>Attempt to speak to Ernie without him finding out you called his niece trying to get him convicted of rape (write-in how you start this conversation)
>write-in

>>949011
>Attempt to speak to Ernie without him finding out you called his niece trying to get him convicted of rape (write-in how you start this conversation)
It was those evil troll bitches. They were trying to get to birds with one stone by getting Ernie arrested and us framed for framing him.
Also we never mentioned rape, just a "bad thing".

>>949041
>>949011
+1

>>949041
>>949058

You walk up to Ernie and the other co-worker, he recognizes you:

"Hey, aren't you Jo-"

"It was those evil troll bitches!" you shout, this is a great start.

"Huh?" Ernie's face and folds scrunch in a hard effort to understand you better.

"Uh, Donna and Roberta Stone" you restart "they wanted to get you fired, they had threatened me to act along with them"

"Wait, why would-" Ernie starts, but is interrupted by the other guy:

"So you did his niece?"

"Yes" you admit "but my hands were tied. nothing I could do"

Don't see through my bullshit, don't see through my bullshit, don't see through my bullshit, don't see through my bullshit, don't see through my bullshit.

"Huh..." Ernie sighs "I just don't know why they'd want to do that"

"Well, the boss had asked me to fire them" you gleam "and I wanted you come with me"

"Oh" a sad and sullen silence briefly brushed over Ernie "do I have to come with? I really don't want to be involved in this"

Ernie doesn't want to go? Odd, you thought he'd be more into it, what should you say to him?

>"Of course you do Ernie, don't you want to slam it in their FACES!"
>"The boss has required me to bring you along during this process"
>"No, Ernie, you don't have to come, I will inform them alone"
>write-in

>>949122
>"The boss has required me to bring you along during this process"
Nut up

>>949122
>"The boss has required me to bring you along during this process"
And it'll be fun!

>>949162
>>949191

"The boss has required me to bring you along during this process" you inform him, falsely "it'll be fun, trust me"

"Oh, alright" he reaches an old hand to the top of the cubicle wall and pull himself up with a strain.

Ernie's now following your lead, with this, it's time to visit Roberta.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KBOf_Q6Z6dg

The two of you head to building B, with an eye now hawk-like, tracking for the vampiric weed, you isolate your targets onto Roberta, and lead Ernie to her.

"Excuse me" you catch her attention, faux affably.

"What!" she spits, turning to you with a full rebound of flab.

She doesn't seem scared, a Stonehenge of bile, that'll change you smirk.

"You're recent behavior puts forth a poor representation of what this company values"

She just stares at you, bull-headed:

"The fuck you'd say?"

You involuntarily smug a smug mug:

"You're fired, the boss told me to tell you"

Before you have time to process what just happened, you're on the ground. Roberta on top of you, gorilla like with vile meat-pins pinning to you the floor, a forearm over your throat, completing restricting any airflow.

Fuck, the fat bitch's trying to kill you!

>Look to Ernie for help
>Attempt pushing her off you (roll 1d10, 4-6 lets you breathe, 7+ pushes her off completely)
>write-in (include a die roll for anything physical)

>>949282
>Attempt pushing her off you (roll 1d10, 4-6 lets you breathe, 7+ pushes her off completely)
Rude

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>949282
>Look to Ernie for help with pleading puppydog eyes
>Attempt pushing her off you (roll 1d10, 4-6 lets you breathe, 7+ pushes her off completely)
Once we are able to breather scream rape, see how she likes it.

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>949296

>>949308
>>949333
She fat.

>>949308
>>949333
Eh, hopefully someone calls security.

>>949296
>>949308 Rolled 3 <--
>>949333
>>949349
>>949351

Like rabbits in quick-sand, you hands are powerless to push off Roberta, who somehow seems to weigh more than a giant snake who's mostly muscle.

You wheeze the word 'rape', though no one is able to hear it, not even you over her hoggish grunting. Getting desperate, with your vision blackening in the corners, you look to Ernie, who, undoubtedly regrets coming with you, to see him stagger in confusion, unsure of himself.

This is it, you think to yourself, this is how I die

All goes to nothing.

---

--

-

.

You jerk forward and find yourself sitting up again, gasping for breath. Your first thoughts are surprise and anger, where the fuck was Roberta?

There the fuck was Roberta, you see on the ground next to you, the fuck?

Suddenly, she reaches over and grabs you, pulling you onto her, she wails loudly.

"Help! Help!" she shrills, nearly giving you tinnitus.

"What're you doing to her?" It's Donna, she's filming you on her phone.

They're trying to make it look like you started it.

Oh, fuck that!

>Beat Roberta while she's down in a fit of rage
>Get off Roberta, go to the boss immediately
>write-in

>>949447
>Get off Roberta, go to the boss immediately
Don't give them ammo.

>>949447
>write-in
Start screaming like a little bitch about disgusting things and telling people to call security. The fucking snek has your back.

>>949525
This, too

>>949460

You stumble off of her, unable to propel yourself off mash potato bodies. Donna, holding a phone, dwarfed in size between her putrid folds, gives chase:

"Don't you beat her then walk away! HIT AND RUN! HIT AND RUN! He tried to kill her!"

People pop up from their desks like meerkats as they watch you out-run Donna and bolt through to building E. You furiously pound on your boss' door, for the first time desiring to go in there.

You hear a mad-dash of slithering as the door rapidly and angrily opens, revealing a very unamused snake who quickly changes his expression to delight upon seeing you.

"Oh, Jones!" he says mirthfully "you were gone for a while, surely delivering a notice to your colleagues shouldn't take this long?"

You cringe at the word 'colleagues'. You go to tell him about the stranglement and the rolling Stones, but find that no words will come out. You're out of breathe and your tender throat aches like a motherfucker, rendering speech impossible.

>write-in a pantomime that would show him what happened
>find another way of communicating to him what happened

>>949593
>hide under his desk

>>949593
>hide under his desk

>>949593
>hide under his desk

>>949620
>>949663
>>949779

To the surprise of Dieter, you move around him and slide underneath his desk.

"Um, Jones" he tries, bemused "I'm not sure what you're trying to do here"

He moves to your location, ducking his head to your level, making an intense amount eye-contact suddenly.

"If you finished your assignment and came looking for a... reward" he teases, much to your discomfort, you've had a enough of people trying to touch you today "something can be arranged"

As if a meteor sent from God, Donna and Roberta waddle into the room. huffing and puffing, on the prowl for a Mr. Jones Raminez to destroy. They get the attention of Dieter Schmidt.

"I don't remember you making an appointment" Dieter says, he's doing the snake thing "state your business"

Both the Stones go rigid and answer him robotically:

"We are looking for Jones"

"Why?"

"We are framing him"

"A common theme, apparently" he looks to you, a smirk on his face, you don't like how safe you feel "What, ahem, what should I do with them?"

He's asking you for advice? What does he mean, do with them? What could he have in mind? Whatever it is, he expects to say something, and you still don't have your voice back.

>write-in another pantomime on what to do with them
>write-in another action

>>949825
Try to pantomime military bootcamp. If he can hypnotize them into signing up we would have done our good deed for the day.

>>949863
>>949825
Sounds good

>>949863
>>949868

You come out from under the desk. You begin pounding your 'boots' and doing army salutes.

"Is there something wrong with you?" Dieter asks, not sarcastically, he's actually genuinely concerned.

You put your hand to your throat and rub it, judging by the texture it's probably bruised.

"Oh shit" he whispers, surprised, he comes to you, cautiously, you are a different type of scared at this new behavior in the snake, he maintains the low tone "did they do this?"

You nod, no shit. Something in Dieter's eyes flash, he turns his attention to the Stones. He notices the phone in Donna's hands, then makes an executive decision.

"OhDonna" he says, she turns to him "drop your phone and strangle Roberta"

Wordlessly Donna drops her phone, it cracks, she trudges over to Roberta, and begins writhing her neck, lumps curl into folds curl into fat curl into flesh curl into...

Roberta doesn't react, she can't, her face becomes technicolor as she loses air. Should you do something about this? I mean, this is the Stone we're talking about here, on the other hand, they might be human beings, maybe, and you're the only one who could really intervene in this situation.

>Break this up before Roberta dies
>Let it happen
>write-in

>>950016
>Let it happen
Too late

>>950016
>Let it happen
Dead end NPCs.

>>950016
>let it happen

>>950034
>>950053
>>950058

You stand there, side by side with Dieter as Donna takes the life from Roberta. After what feels like 5 whole minutes of strangling, Roberta goes limp and Donna loses her grip on her, causes Roberta to crash into the ground lifelessly.

"Donna, if you can, please dispose of Roberta for me" Dieter says, an empty tone of courtesy and business-mindedness to a situation that required anything but that.

Donna huffs and heaves and she attempts to pull Roberta out of the room to little success. She tries a few more times before Dieter stops her.

"Donna stop, just..." he searches for what to do next, frustrated "go to your car, drive as fast as you can... into a tree"

Donna leaves to, you presume, crash into a tree. Dieter moves over to inspect Roberta's corpse.

"Welp, she's too big to eat, so I can't do what I did to Lee" he mutters "woops, did I let that slip?"

He looks at you playfully, you're frozen in fear. Your boss has killed two people, and a third in underway, and he's gazing upon you like a stripper who says she loves him.

"Hey Jones, would you mind assisting me in disposing of Roberta?" he sings "I'll give a raise and the rest of the day off"

You hate this job, you hate your co-workers, and you hate your boss.

>Help your boss get rid of Roberta
>Refuse to help him
>write-in

>>950233
>Help your boss get rid of Roberta
"Y-yes, sir."

>>950240

"Y-yes" you rasp, barely audible, not sure if the throat injury or the fear is limiting your speech.

"Let's see here" Dieter looks over the body another time, seeing it from all different angles "Jones, lift up her head, please"

You do, the grease that drips from her hair makes you gag, you recoil in disgust, dropping onto the floor with a thoomp.

The mustard color liquid oozes down from between your fingers and down your palms, you feel like throwing up and would've if you hadn't an hour ago. The rancid smell that emanates from your hands makes your eye tear up.

"I can't" you croak, you just realized you got fingerprints on the body. Involuntarily you begin shivering in paranoia.

"Alright" you hear your boss say, he sounds soft, Donna's probably in her car by now "you don't have to, clean yourself up and go home, I'll just get someone else to do it"

By 'get' he means 'hypnotize', but you feel suddenly grateful to not be in this situation anymore. The water in the sink that washes the slime and sin from your hands feels nice, the planning for the rest of your day sneaks up on you as you dry your hands.

>Go straight home (start WEDNESDAY)
>Find Sue, talk to Sue
>write-in

>>950362
>Go to store
>Buy condom
>Go to bar
>Get drunk
>Seduce floozy
>SUCC
>Wake up, regret it in the morning
>Go to work
If it's too much
>Go home.

>>950384

You go out, fuck the day away, the world feels different, ethereal in a way, like somethings coming to an end, an end to what you can't say, but feeling is still there, something... something.

It keeps you, for a while, up at night, before quietly and quellingly suppresses your mind into unconsciousness.

---

WEDNESDAY

You glance nervously at your watch, 8:45 AM you're outside of the building, it's been closed off due to a wreck. Sometime just before you left, a large woman had wrapped herself and her car around a pole.

Of course Donna didn't know what a plant looked like. This was the first time in a long time that you were early, too.

The police had been asking if Donna had been acting erratically recently, which several people replied about the incident involving you and Roberta, no mentions Roberta dying, so that's good, however your boss got rid of her, it must've worked.

A police officer is walking to your car, probably to question you, a sense of chilled apprehension comes to you in waves of sweat as you weigh your options here.

Will they be suspicious of you? They don't know about the murders. What if they ask about Roberta? or Lee? or just about Schmidt in general? What should I say?

"Excuse me, sir" you roll down your windows "do you work here?"

>"Yes"
>"No"
>Drive away
>write-in

>>950571
>"Yes"
We have nothing to hide. We did nothing!

>>950580

"Mmhmm" he writes something down "name?"

"Jones" you reply quickly "Raminez"

"Job title?"

"Uhh... CEO's assistant" that didn't sound like a real job, maybe it wasn't, but it also wasn't finalized on any sort of documentation as far as you were aware.

"Do you know this woman?" he pulls out a picture of Donna Stone, she's smiling in that picture, not unlike a revenant returning from the grave to expel 'justice' to those that did it a wrong doing.

"Yeah" you say, gulping "that's Donna, uh, Donna Stone, we work together"

The cop looks at you through sunglasses that obfuscate what his eyes might tell you, an aura of emotive anonymity that is not, in equal parts, provided to you. Still, you pretend to play innocent:

"Did... something happen?" you question in a way that hopefully didn't sound guilty.

"Donna crashed into a pole near the parking lot, died on impact" the officer read from his report "we don't currently suspect fowl play, but new details are coming in every minute."

A couple of moments of awkward silence goes by as the cop fiddles with a clipboard and his radio, then, from a glare in the early morning abyss he's called away, just as he was, you guess, asked more questions. You breath a big sigh of relief.

---

It isn't long before they begin letting people into the building again, you head straight for your desk, away from the outside cold, you notice a paper on your desk, it reads:


Jones,

Big news! I'm moving you from your boring old desk, so get excited!

Instead of having to deal with obnoxious co-workers, you'll be sharing my entire office with me. This is practical, as you are my assistant, and you should be where I can get you easily if I need you.

Stop by my office after reading this.

Best regards,

~Dieter Schmidt, CEO of SN@KE BUSINESS

For fucks sake.

>Go to y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶b̶o̶s̶s̶'̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶i̶c̶e̶ your new office
>See Sue, you really miss talking to Sue
>write-in

>>950677
>Go to y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶b̶o̶s̶s̶'̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶i̶c̶e̶ your new office
Damn it, boss. It's a cursed blessing.

>>950677
>See Sue, you really miss talking to Sue
Tell her where your new desk is and that if she wants to talk she should call instead of visiting.

>>950686

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YUQKtb-zb0

You hear the sounds of something up-beat, yet relaxing, as always Dieter appears to have waiting for a while for you to come in, and seems gracious when you do.

"Jones!" he's excited, you figure you'll have to get used to hearing that everyday "come on over, I want to show your new desk"

He goes over to it, it's the same shape as his, but a bit smaller, and placed adjacently.

"It's nice" you say absently, he takes notice of this:

"What's the matter?" he crawls over to use so close, he might as well be on top of you. It's not even 10'o'clock yet you groan inwardly.

"You killed someone" you let out, it sounds too mundane "the police are outside"

"No Donna kills someone" he corrects "and the police are investigating her accident, or is it a suicide?"

"Lee" you curse "I meant Lee damn it!"

That was the loudest you spoke up against your boss before, luckily he doesn't seem in any angry by this outburst.

"Snakes eat foxes in the wild all the time" he joked, when he saw your expression, he went back to being serious "yes, after you left monday I called him down to come see me, turns out I was right in my suspicions that he was stealing money from the company"

Wow, Lee Fox could not stay out public scorn.

"But still" you protest "3 people are dead, I know that they were... the worst of the worst, but..."

Dieter slid to and around you in a quick motion that caught you off guard. You are in his coils again, when will it be the weekend?

"What are y-"

"Let me hypnotize you"

"No!"

"Please" he begged, loosening himself from a bit so you have more room to move "you're stressed out, today should be a good day, I want you to feel great like I do"

Fuck.Your. Boss.

You sigh, although this is fucking stupid and crazy inappropriate, you consider, you've been wound tight as a band since yesterday morning and have been desperate for some form of release.

>Let your boss hypnotize you
>Do not let your boss hypnotize you, ask for something to do
>Demand your old desk back
>write-in

>>950887
>Do not let your boss hypnotize you, ask for something to do
"I'll feel better working with my mind not messed up, please."

>>950914

"I'll feel better working with my mind not messed up, please" you tell him, hopeful he doesn't just decide to do it anyway.

After a moment, he sighs then unwraps himself from you.

"I don't want to force you" he admits "but I do hope one you'll reconsider?"

It sounds like more of a suggestion than a wish.

"What's on the agenda for today" it's time to get professional, whether your boss wants you to be or not "there has to be something that needs to be done"

"Yeah, probably" he lazily checks over the planner on his desk, flipping a few pages, looking for something.

Curious, you glance in the planner, it's empty, he's never used it, can he write?

"How you ever hired someone?" he asks after a bit of idle turning.

"Hired? No"

"People have been applying for a job here a lot in the last few months" he explains "a few positions have... opened up, could go look-up the names of some applicants and get a hold of them?"

Holy shit, an actual job, an actual job that a real company could give to an employee who has a real job title! No snake sex or purging demons from the world, nope, calling people on the phone, and mundanity to break the recent chaos.

"Right away, sir" you reply, calmer now than in the last 48 hours.

Now, where to look for the applicant information?

>Check your computer's company email
>Check the storage room mail-box
>Refer to co-workers on the whereabouts
>write-in

>>951037
>Check your computer's company email
>Check on those applicants

>>951042

You go to your computer which is at your desk which is in... the room you're currently, meaning you can't get out from boss' reach just yet.

You turn it on, it takes a bit to boot up, old fucking thing, they should really invest in new ones, you don't feel like complaining about anything right now, so you make a mental note to bring this up with Mr. Schmidt sometime next week.

When the damn thing finally loads, you see you somehow have a thousand unread messages in your inbox, the vast majority are just a series of random letters, numbers, and characters in some sort of cryptic nonsense. We got viruses, oh well, you find applicant names on a registry that was forwarded to you and a few other people earlier this month, one of those people was Lee Fox...

Anyway, you read off the names mentally, each has an associated number paired with it:

Colin Edmundson
Charlie Graham
Robert Jessop
Karen Ortiz
Margaret Weiss
Lucas Ziegler

Which do you try first?

>>951096
>Robert Jessop

>>951096
>>951129
Almost forgot, will finish WEDNESDAY and start THURSDAY tomorrow.

>>951222
Goodnight and thank you for running

>>951129

"Hello?" the voice on the other end is nervous, breathy.

"Hi, is this Robert Jessop I'm speaking too?" you respond, wincing a bit at how instinctively smiley you sound, do you want to do this or reptile fuckin'?

"I don't know why you're calling me" Mr. Jessop warns "but if this is about what I think it's about, I wasn't fucking involved!"

So far he seems as normal as anyone else who's worked here.

"Uh, two months ago you applied for Snake Business?"

"The old sneh-at-keh business?"

"Sure"

"What about it?"

"Well, we were interested in having come over for an interview"

"Oh" Robert says "oh, you want to give me a job"

"...yes?" What did he think this call was for?

"Sure, I can come over" he starts calmly, then goes back to being frantic "uh, how's two? Two? I'll be there at two. Bye"

He hung up abruptly. Well, that was easily one of the sketchiest people you've ever spoken with, by how the conversation went, you can only assume he's on the run for some reason.

"Was that person any good?" Mr. Schmidt asks idly, you forgot he was in the room.

>"Yeah, he'll be here at 2, there's a good chance we'll hire him, he seems like a perfect fit"
>"No, dude was batshit at best, and a criminal at worse, I'll try someone else"
>write-in

>>952453
>"Yeah, he'll be here at 2, there's a good chance we'll hire him, he seems like a perfect fit"
The paranoid are the easiest to manipulate. Plus, we can get dirt on him.

>>952467

"Yeah, he'll be here at 2, there's a good chance we'll hire him, he seems like a perfect fit"

"Great" Mr. Schmidt says, you're now at his full attention again "that's... great. You're real great at doing... office things"

You can only guess this is some form of flattery.

"But y'know..." Dieter begins, now away from his desk and right next to your's "2'o'clock is 4 hours away and you'll need something to... fill your time"

One hour. You'd like to go one hour without your boss trying to get his' snake in your pants.

"What do you think I'm going to do?" you challenge him, on the brim with tolerance for his bullshit, at any second ready for it to overflow.

"In terms of office work, I've mostly got things covered" he plays, inching himself over your desk, his gargantuan snake-head less than a foot from your face "but there always other things I open to assistance with"

You feel his tail begin to peruse physically around your ankle, you surprise yourself when you stand up and stomp on it.

"Ah, fuck!" he growls, whiplashing back away from you "Jones, what the hell?"

Making a b-line for the exit, you go to address him once more, but exit wordlessly. As you leave, you notice he's hurt more ways than physical. If snakes could cry...

>Whatever, fuck him, go talk to Sue
>Go back to the office, try to mend things
>You need some time alone, go outside
>write-in

>>952539
>Go back to the office, try to mend things
"Boss, I'm sorry but you're coming on a little too strong for me."

>>952553

You groan, why do I put up with this weirdo? You open the door and walk back inside your conjoined office.

"Boss, I'm sorry but you're coming on a little too strong for me" you say, God-damn, you're making excuses for him.

Dieter doesn't say anything, he's continuing to look over his tail, admittedly, it's looks more... lumpy? It is, for sure, injured, you have quite the soulless soleus.

"I know" he replies, shakily, then quickly changes the subject "I think you hit part of my vertebrae, I'm feeling pain rising up my back"

Shit, that can't be good.

"My senses are dulling" he says in a careful manner, releasing info slowly, steadily "I think you broke a vessel"

Dieter goes quiet than falls, splaying himself across the room, giving you a chance to see just how fucking huge he is. You look him over, his eyes area open, but his eyes are always open.

Tentatively, you check for a pulse, not sure where to look, you start at the throat and go down to the... chest? You feel something, a heartbeat maybe, you have frame of reference that tells you if it is shallow or not, but you know his injuries are probably serious.

...or he's messing with you, you can't be too sure.

>Get help, in case he is bleeding out internally
>Leave, he's playing it up so you'll touch him, sick bastard
>write-in

>>952617
>Get help, in case he is bleeding out internally
You better be joking or this can get really serious.

>>952625

Damn, you can't risk him actually being hurt, at the very very least, he does sign your paycheck. The problem comes, however, with how to approach this, he's too heavy and awkwardly linear to carry. It becomes clear that you can't help him on your own.

---

At building A, you call the attention of Sue, she'll know what to do, maybe.

"Sue!" you shout, waving her over, she looks startled, she trots in your direction.

"Yeah, yeah, what's up Jones?" she laughs "Startled me..."

"There's something wrong with our boss"

"Oh, uh, is he really that bad?" she asks, you remember that she doesn't "I heard that he ca-"

"I know, no, what I mean is there is something wrong with him physically" you're urgent, ten steps ahead, she's loss completely "he's injured, seriously injured, you've got to come with me"

Sue Laurens is calm and perfect, she's on your heels as you both head to the boss' office, you feel a sense of déjà vu.

---

"Oh wow" she says, hand over her mouth "do we call an ambulance?"

"Not sure" he breath "maybe a vet?"

"How serious is he?" she whispers "do you think he could treated here?"

"Here?" you scoff, then pace yourself "...uh, who would treat him?"

"I mean, I would sometimes patch up my sister when she got scrapes"

"I think this is more than just a bruise"

"Couldn't hurt to try something here" sh guesses "before calling more people over, but, then again, it's your call"

>Call an ambulance
>Call a vet
>You and Sue treat Dieter here (roll 1d50, the higher the number, the better the attempt goes, anything under 10 makes it worse)
>write-in

Rolled 6 (1d50)

>>952692
>You and Sue treat Dieter here (roll 1d50, the higher the number, the better the attempt goes, anything under 10 makes it worse)

Rolled 15 (1d50)

>>952692
>You and Sue treat Dieter here (roll 1d50, the higher the number, the better the attempt goes, anything under 10 makes it worse)
Then if we doesn't wake up then call the vet.

>>952711 rolled 6 <--
>>952723

As carefully as possible, you left the edge of Dieter's tail and show it to Sue for inspection, she gets a firm grasp on it.

You both hear a heart-breaking crack, which freaks out Sue, causing her to drop the tail. You hear a crunchy splash sound as the tail collides with the floor, blood now trickling from the scales and into the crevices of the hard-wood.

>>952723

"I am so sorry" Sue cries, feeling guilty.

"Don't worry" you swallow "I call a vet, they should take care of everything"

You look up for the number of a nearby veterinarian, then dial it.

"Hello, I'm Stacy, this is HabiCo, how can I help you today?"

"Uh, yeah uh, hi, my snake is bleeding, y'see I ste-"

"I'm sorry sir, but HabiCo only treats dogs, cats, hamsters, and birds, if have something exotic you'll need to try somewhere else, thank you"

'Stacy' hangs up, you're back to square one, shit! You can mostly say at this point that Dieter isn't faking, since he didn't react upon what was no doubt a very painful experience, still not knowing how much time you have before things get any worse, you'll need to make another decision, and fast .

"No luck on the vet?"

"Nope, they don't take 'exotic pets', what a load of bullshit"

"What's the location of the next closest vet?"

You check, over 8 miles away, which you'd have to drive to, in traffic, with a giant snake roped on top of your car, not happening.

"Too far" you sigh, you can't wait for this day to be over, tomorrow can't possibly be any worse.

"What do you want to do?"

>"Let's try treating him again, maybe we can undo the damage" (roll 1d50, same rules apply as the last go)
>"Let's call an ambulance, see if they'll take him"
>write-in

Rolled 39 (1d50)

>>952779
>"Let's try treating him again, maybe we can undo the damage" (roll 1d50, same rules apply as the last go)
If the fucking vet doesn't treat snakes then I doubt the ambulance would take a snake.

>>952785

"Let's try treating him again, maybe we can undo the damage" you try "besides, if the vet's not going to take in a snake then I doubt the ambulance will either"

"Alright if you say so" Sue replies as you hand her the tail again, she takes it carefully, nothing makes any sickening pops, so that's a good sign.

Taking the tip of the tail and the base of the lower vertebrae in each side, Sue presses them together to produce a crick, which is better than a crack, hopefully. She turns the base on it's side, another crick, this one a bit louder.

Blood is still trickling, but at least it isn't gushing, so, it's a start. You're pretty sure he is only as bad as when he first passed out, deescalating this scenario slightly but also not minimizing the damage enough to not be near life-threatening

There is still more work to be done on Dieter before he could pass off as 'okay', but you'll need to plan your actions carefully, this delicate state could go south with a dead boss on your hands.

Sue looks to you, you're trying to decide if it'd be best to get him conscious or to stop the bleeding first.

>Get him conscious (write-in how you go about this)
>Stop the bleeding (write-in what you use)
>write-in something else

>>952895
>Stop the bleeding (Your shirt(s))
Stopping the bleeding is needed first.

>>952909

Knowing that the bleeding takes precedence, you strip off your shirt, and wrap it around Dieter's tail. If he could see me now, you think to yourself.

Instantly red ebbs across the white cotton and form a thick pink pool of blood that splotches the material, staining, undoubtedly, permanently.

"How's he doin'?" Sue looks worried, a concern that she applies to all, she doesn't belong here, too nice.

"I don't know" you're honest "the bleeding is... less than how bad it was previously"

"That's good!" she encourages "anything that's not bad as it was before is a step in the right direction"

"Yeah..." you take a seat and attempt another ocular assessment of the snake. You'll need to get him awoken again soon, how to do this you're unsure.

You try lifting Dieter's head, but he remains unresponsive, a bit cool as well, animals growing cold is never a good sign.

"Don't die..." it slips out, and feel some embarrassment upon hearing it, you care too much about this snake.

>Ask Sue for help getting Dieter awake
>Find some way to stimulate him
>Look for something around the room for help
>write-in

>>952993
>Find some way to stimulate him
Rub his body! Hug him! A kiss? Cold blooded animals like him need heat.

>>952993
>Look for something around the room for help

>>953051

Gently, you raise Dieter's head up, then put it over your shoulder, wrapping your arms around his body against your's trying to give him warmth.

"Boss" you breathe "c'mon boss, talk to me"

You stroke your hand against his back repeatedly and rapidly at first to create friction, before slowing down realizing you could further injure his spinal cord.

"Is he moving?" you ask Sue, who could see Dieter's head.

"No, still limp"

Fuck. You lift his head over your should and bring it eye-level to your face. Fuck fuck fuck.

"Don't judge me, Sue"

"Judge you for what?"

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, you move your lips to his... mouth, when that doesn't seem to do much, you get desperate and push your oval tongue to mingle with his forked tongue. This bothers me you convince yourself, it doesn't.

You look over Dieter's scarily placid face, he's cold.

"I think he's dead" you say, you switch your view to Sue, who's no longer holding Dieter's tail.

"Where's his tail?"

"Around you, sexy" it's Dieter

You look down, for the third times this week you're within Dieter's coils, for the first time you don't panic.

"You're still alive" a statement that is surprisingly relieving.

"Mostly" he hisses sleepily "I'm injured, and from how it feels, the injury is infected"

"What do we do?" it's Sue

"Oh, you're here too?" Dieter smiles "Ms. Laurens, there is a notebook in my desk, call the first number on the last page, tell them to come over"

Sue races to the desk to preform the task, not wanting to risk any time that could risk Dieter dying.

"Now" Dieter turns his attention back to you "where were we?"

>Fuck it, make the snake happy
>Gross, get him off you, explain it was just business
>write-in

>>953197
>Fuck it, make the snake happy
"I better get a raise! Though I was the one who cause this situation... Oh, fuck. I'm just glad that I'm not a murder."

>>953197
We were worrying over your apparently life threatening injury. You are a very fragile snake and need to take better care of yourself.

Isn't it gas pipe exploding day today? Is it the sketchy interviewee?

>>953238
Oh, fuck! I forgot about the gas leak. Do we still have time? Wait, it's not too meta, right?

>>953238
>>953242
The gas leak is thursday, it is currently wednesday, also writing for >>953236

>>953236

In the distance you can vaguely hear Sue call Dieter's dossier, but you lose focus as Dieter's head come towards your's. You feel your insides melt as if digesting themselves as this time it's Dieter's silver snaked tongue's turn to intertwine with your's.

As he releases his tongue from your mouth you whisper in his ear:

"I better get a raise" he laughs, squeezes you until you almost can't breathe, and puts his head on your shoulder, you lay your head on his, this feels nice.

"I called the guy" Sue's voice is heard, you mentally pull yourself away from Dieter just enough to listen "he'll be here in about ten minutes"

"Okay" you relax "That's enough time, right Dieter?"

That's the first time you called him by his first name, Dieter doesn't respond, you nudge his chin (mandible?) with your shoulder. Nothing. He's cold again.

You nudge him with more force, he feels heavier. Dead weight, you block the thought, and begin unraveling himself off you.

"Don't do this Dieter" you grab his head, his jaw hangs, "don't fucking play with me like this!"

His eyes, red-black marbles, dead, well, should be dead, are.

Dieter's deceased.

No no no no no, no, shit! Your mind is racing, you put your hands through your hair, struggling to find reason and action.

Dieter is dead and you killed him.

You don't believe it, you don't want to.

>Tell Sue to call and cancel the dossier's arrival
>Perform chest compressions, mouth-to-mouth, anything...
>Take charge as the new CEO of SN@KE BUSINESS
>write-in

>>953446
>Perform chest compressions, mouth-to-mouth, anything...
Well, shit.

>>953446
Fucking sneks are cold blooded, chill out, he's probably just sleeping.
>go through his desk while waiting for the snek charmer to get here

>>953463

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3gFJZob6sU

You push, heave, and press repeatedly on various parts of the snake's torso trying to get a feel of where the heart is, after isolating what you hope is the organ, you hope to achieve what would be proper CPR for a snake and restart the pressing and breathing,

It does nothing, you're left kneeling there, legs next to the snake's upper body, despair and dread coming forward in waves.

>>953503

I thought, perhaps overly optimistic, enters your mind, what if he's just sleeping? It's the thought a little boy might have upon seeing his goldfish swim upside down at the top of the bowl, still, it never does anyone good to fret.

You approach his desk and begin searching for... something. You feel pressure on your shoulder, Dieter? No, it's Sue, not that you're disappointed, not at all...

"I'm sorry" she says "if there was more that you could do th-"

"Maybe he's sleeping" you whisper "maybe he's fine"

"Oh Jones" she weeps "come here"

She pulls you in a tight embrace, you cry into her shoulder until the dossier arrives. He is a shifty lookin' fella, an almost emaciated look to him with skin so pale it seems to tint blue.

"Dead" the dossier shrugs "good guy, too bad"

He turns to leave, you stop him:

"Is there nothing you can do?"

"No" he stamps, impatient "is dead, bleed too much"

Then, like a wisp, he moves to the door and out of sight.

You want to yell, you want to rage, it dawns on you that this company has no CEO, you also remember that at 4, which is now about 2-3 hours away, you're suppose to interview Robert Jessop, for what position is beyond you.

>Fuck it, fuck him, fuck it all, go home (starts THURSDAY)
>Stay at work, be with the body, be with Sue, talk to Jessop when he arrives
>write-in

>>953586
>Stay at work, be with the body, be with Sue, talk to Jessop when he arrives
;_;

>>953586
>Stay at work, be with the body, be with Sue, talk to Jessop when he arrives
No-one remembers talking to the CEO anyway. We can be the buffer to a non-existant boss. It will be hard without being able to hypnotize people though... Maybe ask new guy how good he is at convincing people to do things.

>>953597
>>953713

There is nothing you can do now except wait. Wait for the body to be buried, wait to announce to everyone, wait for Robert Jessop to arrive, wait for tomorrow to come, wait to stop crying...

It is a long 2 & 1/2 hours of meetings, commencements, tears, and eulogies before just about everyone is sent home, the structure is vacant, directionless, and hollow. A husk, brought to 'life' in the form of a drab grey and beige building overlooking the car-wreck of Donna Stone, who the coroners have escorted from the premises just time for Dieter Schmidt to die.

It comes to you that this place, SN@KE BUSINESS, is a black hole for all matter to wind up, become corrupted, and wither... to nothing, to the expanses that fuel the hole's being until it itself succumbs to die.

The death of this place, you find, will be no loss to anyone, and a gain for those it has taken:
even Dieter Schmidt, who owned the place.

---

"Robert Jessop?" you ask the confused man as he wonders in, he nods "Take a seat, please"

Jessop looks like the homeless equivalent of that Tsoukalos guy wearing a tattered grey hoodie and ripped jogger's pants.

There is no point to this interview, none of this shit matters.

"Do you have a resume?" he doesn't.

"Former employment?" nothing.

"Education?" none documented

"Qualifications?" Well, he was able to find the place on his own.

"Strengths, weaknesses?" Don't tease the poor guy.

At this point, who cares, the whole seems defunct now.

>Hire Jessop as the new CEO, why not?
>Hire Jessop as your new assistant, make yourself CEO
>Don't hire Jessop at all
>write-in

^All options lead straight to THURSDAY.

>>953754
>Hire Jessop as a our assistant
>Delay the appointment of CEO
Poor snek. Just when we became friends.

>>953754
Um, sure >>953763
Duties to be discussed ... as they come to light.

Wait, we told everyone Schmidt died? Because we stomped on him then pulled his tail apart? Then there was a funurel where everyone saw he was a snake? How was there no fallout from this!

>>953827
You made an announcement saying that the CEO has died, you let a few people say some empty words, then everyone went home. No one saw the body except you, Sue, the dossier, who was already gone, and the hearse.


THURSDAY

You arrive to work, 10:56 AM, who are here to impress? Everyone else is here today, all the tears shed over Dieter's death were your own and Sue's, it makes sense when you think about it, no one else had met the boss' besides Lee and the Stones, and look how that ended.

You walk into your office, Jessop is there, of course, he's been there since you hired him, having slept there, the scab. You sit down at your desk and message your temples, there's nothing on the agenda today, what does this company even do? You don't remember, you don't care.

"The pipes" Robert Jessop mutters "the pipes"

"What about the pipes?" you respond idly, not really paying any attention.

He just keeps repeating "the pipes, the pipes", whatever.

Well, you need something to do to kill time. Not that anything of note is going to happen today, still boredom is boredom.

>Talk to Sue
>Talk to Ernie, how's he been?
>Talk to Robert
>Talk to yourself
>write-in

>>953876
>Talk to Robert
We have to know!

>>953876
>Get Bob- can I call you Bob, I'll call you Bob- to help rearrange the office.

>>953880

"You were saying something about the pipes, guy?"

"Leaking, leaking" he gesticulates "Madness! Chaos! We all fall! They'll watch, they'll watch!"

"Neat" you mumble. You get up and stretch, time to get away from the crazy; you start walking around the office.

Just to satisfy some deep-seated curiosity, you go down to the boilers, and find... nothing.

"Paranoid fuck" you grumble, at least that would've been something interesting, had anything come out of it.

>>953907

Back at the office, you address Jessop:

"Bob, can I call you Bob? Help me rearrange the stuff in this office"

"The pipes" he moans quietly, this is going to be a thing with him you just know it.

---

11:30 AM, you stare at the clock, which is now on the other wall you notice proudly, having spent the last half-hour moving shit with a druggie.

You feel a bout of tension in your stomach that you can't the origin of, something terrible is awaiting, what it is, you don't know, except that is lurks.

>Stop being frantic, do something fun to distract yourself
>Investigate this feeling further, before it consumes you
>write-in

>>953956
>Investigate this feeling further, before it consumes you
Maddess begone!

>>953956
>Stop being frantic, do something fun to distract yourself
Go fuck Sue already! You the boss now.

File: living is only temporary.jpg (196 KB, 1000x746)

196 KB JPG

>>953961

Don't fret my friend, we'll be together again in no time

Dieter..., you think
is dead, you finish.

God you miss him, what happened to people being alive and snakes not talking? That's how it worked last week, and the week before that, and so on.

You find yourself drifting down the aisles and cubicles of all the buildings in the company building, not unlike a ghost, not unlike one soon to become one.

>>953981

You find your way to Sue, solemn Sue, she misses Dieter too, but, you feel, she doesn't know why she misses Dieter, after all, who else truly knew Dieter except you?

"I'm the boss" you tell her, snapping her from her stupor, "it's all gonna end soon, we gotta make it last"

"What's going to end soon?"

"The world baby, our world" you do finger guns "ka-pow, ka-pow, we're all dead"

"Jones..." she asks, tentative "...are you all right?"

>"Never better, now let's fuck til we drop"
>"Sue, I've lost it, but the pipes, the pipes, the pipes will make corpses of us all"
>"I really fucking miss Dieter"
>write-in

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>954028
>"Never better, now let's fuck til we drop"
Does that mean we are going to have an explosive orgasm?
Rolling for seduction.

>>954028
>I really fucking miss Dieter"
Use our creepiness to seduce.

>>954045
>>954069

"Never better, now let's fuck til we drop"

"Jones!" she exclaims, then drops to a smirk "You never one to be so forward, what has gotten into you?"

"I really fucking miss Dieter" you admit "he opened and filled a void, but now, that filling needs a replacement"

Sue stares straight into your eyes and bites her bottom lip, she checks her watch, 11:37 AM.

"Meet me in the women's bathroom in 20 minutes" she replies

"A'ight" you wink.

---

11:57 AM

You're in the women's restroom, you hide in the stalls and peer through a crack in the walls waiting for her to arrive, after a few minutes she does.

"There she is" you whisper, she slips you a condom. Showtime.

The two of you go down, within seconds you're fatigued. What the fuck? You'd chalk it up to underperforming, but Sue looks tired as well.

"I can't breathe..." she gasps... sexually? You aren't sure.

>Somethings wrong, you should not be tired this easily
>Ignore, you're just nervous, keep fuckin'
>write-in

>>954166
>Somethings wrong, you should not be tired this easily
What a turn off. Maybe we should relocate to our office, just make sure to get the druggie out of there first. Tell him to go fetch you lunch from a place on the other side of town. Yeah, we can fuck right where Dieter deid, this is gonna be great.

>>954166
>Something's wrong, you should not be tired this easily

>>954195
>>954204

"We got to go" you wheeze, then begin coughing.

You pull up your pants and help Sue up, you lead her out of bathroom and into the adjacent hallway.

Bodies, bodies everywhere. Scattered about the aisles and slumped over chairs and cubicles, you see the motionless visage of dozens of fellow co-works no longer with you in the realm of the living.

Holy shit, holy shit, Sue's hand in your's, you lead to your office, it's hard, however, to tell where you are going with all the irritation in your eyes.

"Jones" you hear, it's Dieter, his mirage appearing before you. "don't resist fate, lay down and let whatever happens happen"

You run past, or, more accurately, through the mirage of Dieter and move, salmon upstream like, to your office.

"You won't make it in time" Dieter reappears "please don't suffer"

You're on your last breathes, you are completely disoriented and surrounded by fumes, you couldn't place where you were to save your life.

>Continue heading towards your office
>Find the source of the fumes and put a stop to it (roll 1d10, if you roll an 11, which you won't, you'll be successful in this endeavor)
>write-in how else to spend your final moments

>>954283
>Think on what you did in life
>Was involved in a rape framing plot, fought a big fat woman, met snek boss, accidently hurt and kill boss, kissed him before, became not!CEO, and banged a chick.

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>954283
>Find the source of the fumes and put a stop to it (roll 1d10, if you roll an 11, which you won't, you'll be successful in this endeavor)
We have to do it, for all those still living.

>>954339

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuKi1fUADdU

You didn't get to live long, you accept, but, you felt, you got to live more.

Just look at this week, all the shenanigans you pulled, conspiring to manufacture a false rape allegation, drunk drove unscathed, resisted the mind-altering abilities of a giant talking snake, got him to fall in love with you, vice versa, fought off human tumors, watched as they died, save Ernie from the situation you put him in, survived more than a few near-death experiences, and in the end, got the girl...

>>954358

...but it's not time to die yet, you decide, you begin leading Sue again, this time, to find the source of the fumes. You presume that these 'fumes' are coming from the pipes in some sort of gas leak, but which pipes? Where? There were pipes everywhere! Damn it!

You pick a direction and head towards it, dragging Sue with you, she feels heavy, you check on her, she's died, fuck fuck fuck, you let her go, you're determined, you're driven, you're doing it, truly, you're you're you're...

You're dead.

---

It's not so bad, really, if you think about it, you were dead before you even started monday, having known that you will have died by this point.

It's not about the destination, the destination is always death, there's always the day after the 'happy ending' and another day, and another day, until our beloved characters die.

This isn't nihilism, this is reality.

THANKS FOR PLAYING!

>>954401
What a journey. Thank you for running.

>>954401
Also, will you make other quests in the future?

>>954454
Not sure, I usually write each thing under a different name, more liberating that way

>>954401
>This isn't nihilism, this is reality.
I wish I had a mind raping giant snake boss.

>>954486
Hope you run others.

Dammit I was really really hoping this was gonna be a ground hogs day. I wanted to fuck the snake and have a loving relationship. Now I'm just sad. GIVE ME MORE.

>>956731
Me, too. Not everyday you can romance a snake monster.

>>956731
I was expecting it to be as well.