Contagious Idiocy

Jeff sits alone in his cubicle.  The strobe light effect of his dilapidated monitor blinks with an insanity-inducing intensity.  There is a large pile of “urgent” work in Jeff’s in-tray, and Jeff knows that he needs to make a start on it lest Jeff get shouted at by his boss, again.  As he contemplates the task at hand whilst trying to avoid succumbing to madness from his incessant screen, he notices a mail icon appear on his taskbar.

An email has arrived.  An email that needs to be read before Jeff can even concentrate on his important tasks.  He clicks on the mail icon and takes his sweet time in reading the contents, relishing this tiny fractal of free time before he has to urge himself into submissive labour once more.  The email is from a work colleague informing him that the lifts in the building are broken.  This is the third time this month and is becoming something of a nuisance for the lazier members of the office, Jeff included.  He didn’t pack any sandwiches today either, meaning that Jeff will have to descend seven flights of stairs on the stroke of twelve, pick up a sandwich, and then ascend those same steps again.  This was the main downside of working on the top floor, more so than being the last out in the event of a fire.  Merely thinking about the journey made Jeff’s calf muscles quiver in reluctant anticipation.

Why was the lift broken again?  As the thought swirled round in his mind, he read the second line of the email.  “The lift engineer will be out this afternoon to fix this”.  Yeah, right, when pigs fly!  The lift engineer had never turned up on time before.  To suggest otherwise was madness! 

As this thought occurred to Jeff, the further thought occurred that other people in the office would be as despairing as he at the current circumstances.  Jeff immediately formulated a joke in his mind.  Going with his ‘when pigs fly’ branch of thought, why not reply to the email with a picture of a flying pig!?  Everyone would get that!  Their exasperation would be relieved by his mirthful response, and he would be hailed an office hero!  This narcissistic thought spread to his fingers as he grabbed his mouse and keyboard, and searched for a picture of a flying pig online.

Babe:  Pig In The Fuckin' Sky!

With the relevant picture found, Jeff nimbly inserted the picture into an email and fired it off.  He looked at his system clock, less than two minutes since the original email was received and he’d already fired off a witty barb of magnificent quality.  Surely the lady on reception would feel compelled to honour his fine comedy with a naked scarf dance.

As Jeff sat back in his chair in smug satisfaction, he suddenly noticed that another new email had been received.  Upon clicking on the icon, he was mortified to see six new emails had actually been received, all relating to the lift email, all containing their own jokes and all sent quicker than his!  How could this happen?  He clicked on the first one, a picture of hell frozen over.  Dammit!  Why didn’t he think of that?  He glanced over the office floor at the sender, Clive from accounts.  Clive smirked back with a knowing “beat you to it” glance.  How could an accountant be funnier than he was?

There was no alternative.  Jeff needed to come up with a funny response to Clive’s email, something that would dwarf Clive’s attempt at humour and divert all the attention back to Jeff.  Scrambling to open Paint as fast as he could, Jeff imported Clive’s picture of a frozen hell, and then copied in his flying pig, thus combining both jokes into a mashed up uber joke.  This was surely on the cutting edge of comic capability.  Had such a combination ever been attempted?  Jeff was about to find out as he clicked send, then peered over his divider at Clive to witness his response.

Sexy vintage clipart

 Within minutes, the office had erupted in a flurry of hastily sent emails.  The majority of the office angrily firing electronic japes back and forth with searing intensity.  Hundreds of emails began to flood their screens, several conversation strands emerged, diverting, twisting and turning in an ever-expanding maze of poorly related humour.  No one was laughing.  There was no time to laugh during this cycle of relentless wit.

Meanwhile, a lonely office worker in the corner sits helpless as his screen fills up with a barrage of utter garbage.  This is the third time this week that the office has descended into this kind of unrepentant shittery.  He slips his hand in his pocket, pulls out his letter of resignation, and begins the work across the office floor towards the boss’s office.