April 1st – Paranoia #B831

Posted on April 1, 2011


The following items are missing from his desk:

  1. World’s Greatest Dad Coffee Mug — stained.
  2. A .57 Magnum, with one bullet.
  3. A candy jar — half full or half empty.
  4. A flask of whiskey — not full, completely empty.
  5. An assortment of pens and paperclips — the premium kind.
  6. A print of Picasso’s Guernica — left hanging on the north wall.

To further complicate matters, his leather executive chair is clawed and torn, innards exposed.

Something has clearly been here, he says.

Since the office door has been locked all night, he surmises that some roof monster must be living in the ceiling. He begins to rip down ceiling tiles, fibres and asbestos littering his office and clothes. He does not find a roof monster. What he finds is a camera, red light on, watching him. How long has this been going on, he demands. The camera does not respond and so he kills it, tearing it free from it’s wire.

He climbs down from his desk to sit in his wounded chair, craddling this dead camera in his arms. He asks the dead camera several questions:

  1. Is upper management spying on him?
  2. Did some dastardly rival do this?
  3. Is the roof monster really not real, really?
  4. And if any of these three things are true, did they take his things?

He knows nothing, but his paranoia has been piqued. This will be a long April, he says. This will be a war, he says. The camera says nothing as he sits it on the desk and watches, waiting for it to make a sign of aggression.