Diary of an Office Girl: Not a Villain (Pt 4.)

Okay, back home after a day of traveling. Which was mostly spent trying to pretend I wasn’t terrified that, at any moment I was about to be carted off to some dark little prison cell where I’d eat only bread and water and never be allowed out, be able to see my family or my cats ever again…

 …and where there would almost certainly be a significant lack of effective frizz control conditioner. (Okay I’m seeing spots I should calm down.)

So where was I?

Oh right! Crawling through destruction, chaos and almost certain death! I remember now.

I successfully navigated the facility and found my way to the data storage room although I would have admittedly found the place a lot faster if I hadn’t been crawling on the ground with my eyes closed (long after the sound of fighting had faded behind me) hoping not to get shot.

Once in the room it was simply a matter of locating the correct hard drive, using the (very long) identification number that Katie and Stanley had been discussing during our mission briefing. (Gasp, shock I was paying attention) I managed to remember the number (I may have made up a little song to help with that) and locate the drive.

I have to say it was very difficult to remove the hard drive, I pulled and pulled and it wouldn’t budge. I ended up yanking the thing out to the sound of snapping and creaking before I realised that there had been some form of “push here before pulling” mechanism, which would have made the whole process easier. (Oops)

Standing there with the hard drive in my hand a realisation came over me…

I hadn’t really planned past this point, (to be fair who’d have thought I would survive this far?) what should I do now? Hide it? Take it? What on earth would I do with it? (The idea of creating my own army of super powered cats may have occurred to me for a fleeting moment but I deemed it unwise.) These thoughts were racing through my mind on top of my fears about not only what the bad guys would do with this information but also what the good guys would do.

Stop my colleagues from getting the data. That was the deal. But… but nothing had been said about letting the villains keep a hold of it, that point hadn’t even been discussed.

So I made a decision.

I dropped the drive on the floor, pointed the gun at it, shielded my eyes and fired repeatedly at it…

And I missed…     Every. Single. Shot.

That’s when I started jumping up and down on top of it. Not the most elegant solution I grant you but it worked! After about the 5^th jump I heard a crunch and looked down. It seemed pretty destroyed.

Suddenly there was the noise of shots and shouting outside the door, getting closer and closer and is seemed to be approaching fast. I moved towards the door to make my “tactical retreat” when the door burst open and Daniel walked in, followed by two decidedly unfriendly looking gentlemen. I backed into the room, out of the way of them as they moved deeper inside. Suddenly they stopped and Daniel spotted the remains of the hard drive, a crumpled mess on the floor. He immediately gestured to the men who ran out of the room in opposite directions as he bent down to pick it up and examine it.

I was against a stack of servers, trying not to move or breathe as he turned the device over in his hands slowly and then very abruptly and angrily her hurled it across the room hard. (I have never actually seen that level of rage on his face before, shudder)

It was such a violent and unexpected act I got a fright and I’m not sure if I gasped or I moved or something but he became very still for a moment before slowly turning in my direction and I felt my heart beat so hard I was sure he could hear it on it’s own. 

To Be Continued…

Diary of an Office Girl: Not a Villain. (Pt 3.)

I didn’t sleep well at all last night.

Usually I sleep great in hotels, with the comfy bed and the knowledge I wont have to tidy up (no matter how messy I am) and of course the full English breakfast that awaits me in the morning, that I didn’t have to cook. (Who am I kidding? I never cook.)

But you see I don’t usually have terrible nightmares where I could be arrested at any moment for sabotaging my own agency in a mission to acquire the formula for a serum that would allow said agency to create an army of super powered spies. (And then wake up to find it wasn’t a nightmare.)

So…

I grabbed the “supplies” that The Prick had provided me with (Supplies = Gun and Goggles) from their hiding place in a conveniently located (and damp) alley, before heading back to the facility. Hoping to get in and out, quickly and efficiently. (Don’t laugh at that!!!)

Oooh pop quiz!

What does a shopping centre and a facility housing top secret files belonging to an evil criminal organisation have in common?

In both of these places I have gotten lost, consulted a wall map and then spent a half hour studying it before realising I’ve drifted of while staring at the “you are here” dot.

I managed to find my way to the elevators. (Note: I find myself wanting to add the prefix “evil” to everything I encountered.) I managed to find my way to the evil elevators and found myself caught up in trying not to dance to the evil elevator music. (Before remembering I was invisible and could therefore flail to my hearts content.)

Oh and then some evil people got on with me (Not doing the prefix thing, they actually were evil) and one of them was The Prick. He was talking to his boss on the phone (I bet her voice sounded nice… stop it Lee!) and I am absolutely sure he looked straight at me on several occasions!

I am not paranoid I’m serious it was as if he knew I was there.

Anyway, the elevator “binged” and the doors opened and the sight before me was well, “pretty mad” would be a way to describe it if I lacked all sense of proportion. It was a flurry of violence and superpowers and gunfire and shouting and was altogether quite a to do.

At this point I was thinking perhaps I would stay in the elevator, as the prospect of entering the scenario playing out before me seemed a monumentally stupid idea.

Then I had this thought…

I am trapped in a metal box with a telekinetic, evil prick who may or may not know I am here and has a vested interest in “encouraging” me to get out of the elevator and do what the f*$@ I was told to do…

… it had also occurred to me that the elevator was probably about to become a part of the on going, ahem, festivities and that would not end well for me. (Invisible or not)

So I decided to enter the fray and by that I mean crawl along the ground, hugging the wall with my eyes closed, weeping and hoping not to bump into anyone.

Good plan eh?

To Be Continued…

Diary of an Office Girl: Not a Villain. (Pt 2.)

Oh my, that was… exciting.

No exciting isn’t the right word. Um, let me see… maybe, no, or possibly… hmmm.

No I think I’ll just sick with exciting.

My official part in the mission was fairly simple; I use my unique ability for being unnoticed (I mean invisibility not my tendency to blend into the furniture) to help the “actual spies” gain entry to the facility where the Prometheus file was being kept. (I say was being kept. It’s not there anymore.)

Once my part was done I was supposed to go back to the hotel room and wait for the others to return…

…I did not.

What did I do?

That’s something I have to get into tomorrow. For now I have to sleep.

And hope I am not arrested in the middle of the night…

… or that Daniel doesn’t decide to get even for my, ahem, interpretation of our deal. (I may have done something stupid, but then that’s predictable.)

Oh I am going to have wonderful dreams tonight. (Sarcasm)

Diary of an Office Girl: Not A Villain (Pt. 1)

Oh I was so hoping it wouldn’t come up.

Perhaps that our agency had never heard of “Prometheus” and that no one would ever mention it and I wouldn’t have to try to stop us from obtaining it, Daniel’s favour would never be able to be fulfilled, he’d be eaten by wild squirrels and I could live my mediocre little life in peace. (Sigh, a girl can dream can’t she.)

Unfortunately the agency has heard of it, they did mention it in the morning meeting (causing me to go through a series of unfortunate facial expressions trying to find one which looked “natural” but ending up looking demented) and I am going to have to try to sabotage my own team.

Bugger.

At least I found out what Prometheus is and (after discovering that it’s a file containing a formula for the aerosol gas which gives people powers) I kind of wish I didn’t know.

Even more than that, I wish I hadn’t heard Director Moore and Big Boss Man having a terrifying discussion about plans for what can only be described as an army of super powered agents (or their remarks about the kind of “influence” an army like that would give the agency.)

Is it bad that I’m beginning to really want to succeed in my sabotage?

Not That I want Daniel and Helena and the evil side to have it! I’m just not sure I want our side to have it either.

Well we leave in the morning so I should probably get some sleep. Big day tomorrow you know. I’m sure being a villain will require me at my best…

… figuratively.

To Be Continued…

Office Christmas Party... Um... Sigh.

 This year the decision was made to hold the office Christmas party at an eternal venue. (Translation: Somewhere not filled with guns, tactical gear and computers that can initiate a global crisis. Also somewhere that isn’t likely to be the focus of a hostile incursion) so instead we went to the local pub.

The whole thing was pretty standard; drinking, laughing, ill-advised flirting (not me!) and of course more drinking.

The night was going okay, although I have to admit watching men gaze longingly at Katie is starting to wear a little thin (especially due to the fact that they always seem to be men I fancy.) She and Mister Cutie Pie were all over each other again and Michael was sitting in the corner pretending to listen to co-workers while in reality staring at the two of them like a lost puppy. (He’s even handsome when he’s sad, sigh.)

Oh that reminds me of a very awkward incident which became the exact moment I decided to leave the party before I got drunk enough to do (or say) something I would regret. (Although in hindsight an upsetting portion of my life is spend doing both of those things.)

Anyway where was I? Oh yes, awkward moment number 5 billion in my life…

Simple equation: Alcohol + Man I fancy, who is in love with my best friend + fact that said man and I nearly kissed due to his being heart broken over best friend + mistletoe = awkward smiling, peck on cheek followed by strategic and swift exit.

As if that wasn’t fun enough for the night what followed was a cherry on top of the wonderful night. (sarcasm)

Grab coat. Leave bar. Get feeling someone is following me. Dismiss feeling and attribute to being excessively tipsy. Feel hand grab arm. Get pulled round corner of pub. Find self face to face with prick.

The night is complete.

I asked him what he was doing there (with a little more venom than is probably advisable… I can’t help it! He brings it out!) but he seemed more concerned with why I had left the party so early. He theorised to himself, as I stood there wishing the ground would swallow me, that it as due to “…that awkward mistletoe incident.” And commented “Not exactly how you pictured it while sitting at your desk hopelessly fantasising for hours on end was it?” (You know what I’d rather the ground swallowed him up. Prick.)

It wasn’t until he touched a rather raw nerve by saying “Or perhaps it was the bland looking bureaucrat wrapped around the blonde. The one that you couldn’t take your eyes off?” that I tried to walk away from him. He grabbed my arm and asked in that sly, irritating voice, “Tell me Friday do you really think she didn’t know you liked him?”

(This caught my attention. )

I turned wide eyed and spluttered “What!? Who?” but before I had finished stuttering he responded “Both of them.” I could feel my face burn with humiliation as I asked him how he knew. He spoke as he pulled me round the building,  “Because you are the least subtle person in the entire country. It is, in fact, one of your more endearing qualities.”

Pushing me out in front of him, holding my shoulders, he aimed me so I could see into the window of the pub. Looking at all my co-workers as he started explaining that Katie hadn’t cared that I liked the two men. I told him he was lying (weakly) He carefully explained that it was my friends and co-workers who were lying.  That Katie “feigns modesty when she knows better.” And that Michael “pretends to be cautious” because “He would rather see people die than be seen as a villain.” Going further he explain that director Moore would gladly see us all “suffer in unimaginable ways and sleep soundly that same night.”

And as he talked something horrifying came into my mind. I knew he was telling the truth. (at least this time.)

Once he had finished toying with my sense of reality he explained that he was there to collect on his favour. That I was going to hear about a file named “Prometheus” and that I had to ensure that they “Under no circumstances, come into possession of this file.”

There was no indication of how this would be done, (nor did he bother to explain what was in the file, prick.) He just gave me those instructions, threw about a few more prick like remarks and then disappeared.

Leaving me with a strong desire for more alcohol…

… and a man in my life who wasn’t either evil or obsessed with my best friend.

Sigh.

The Written Portion.

Did I mention that at the end of my four-week “boot camp” there was a written exam we had to take to determine if we would be “permitted to continue”? 

I didn’t? Oh, okay then.

So at the end of my four-week “boot camp” there was a written exam we all had to take in order to determine if we would be “permitted to continue”.  (I have to say that’s the most ominous phrase I’ve heard in a while, continue what exactly? Working? Living? Probably best not to think about it.)

Anyway, I get the results tomorrow. (Crosses fingers.)

…

Can I just say something here!!!

I think that if you find a spelling/grammatical error or a logical inconsistency in an exam question, you should then be deemed to have beaten the examiner and it should be assumed you are able to pass any test this inferior individual could put to you.

So in my mind, regardless of the outcome, I passed.

Yup…

…Because that counts.

Delivery for Sarah

Before I was whisked away in the middle of the night to a strange and intense training camp for super powered losers (Not kidding that’s how it happened) I was going to talk about the mystery package I received just before Halloween.

No time like the present I guess.

I arrive home after a normal days work and there it is. A big box with a ribbon around it.

At first I thought it might be a gift from an ex as an apology, or perhaps some secret admirer who wants to whisk me away to a private island in the sun and romance me and buy my pretty things and we get married and I never have to think about spies or guns or making coffee of filing ever again.

Wow that thought went longer than I intended. (Sigh)

I found a small card slid under the ribbon. (Perhaps it was some love note, poem or profuse apology for treating me like rubbish) What should I find instead but a handwritten note saying only this. "Friday." (Bugger doesn't really cover it now does it?)

After staring at the box for many hours, then listening for any noises (ticking?) I tried poking it a couple of times and running away. Then I tried kicking it and doing the same... I finally opened it and pulled away layers of delicate packing paper to find a pair of goggles, which of course I recognized immediately as they were startlingly similar to the ones sitting in Stanley's office.

I examined them and they seemed fairly unremarkable (well apart from the fact that they too let me see when I'm invisible) and as I was looking them over something else inside the box caught my eye. There was a dark shape further down in the box under more paper.

I pulled away the paper and reached in (still a little distracted and confused by the goggles) and pulled out something that was cold to the touch, heavy and metal and then I looked to see what I already instinctively knew (I inventory them enough to know what they feel like)

I was holding a gun.

I dropped it and ran out of the room. Went to the bathroom and tried not to have a panic attack.

After a long time I went back to the box and picked up the gun, wrapping it in all the packing paper (cause we all know if I can't see it... it doesn't exist, right?) and remembered my sister's safe, the one she bought to put her (insanely expensive) wedding dress in. I opened it. (She doesn't know I know the combination, but the anniversary of when they met is just too easy, she really is a bit obvious sometimes) and put the gun inside.

Oddly enough, wrapped in all that crinkly white paper it looked disturbingly at home next to the white gown.

So there sits the gun, a present from the prick and a symbol of my terrible judgement, in a safe, at the bottom of my closet, nestled gently next to my sisters wedding dress.

Bugger.