Check for attachments

No matter how many times he reread the email, the words never changed. The same bold letters glared at him like a disappointed parent. Eleven simple words, each carrying the weight of the world. A deep sigh escaped him as he leaned back. There on the screen, the email remained open. “Meet in my office at five. Bring your laptop and belongings.”

This was it. The end of the road. Arthur’s perfect little house of cards was finally collapsing right at his feet. Why the hell did I lie about being good with people?! Arthur’s hands flexed over and over as he rocked in his chair. The creaking sent chills down his spine, making his skin feel like tiny insects had made their way under his shirt.

He needed to do something by the end of the day. Something big. If he could prove he wasn’t a complete waste, maybe… The clock on the wall said it was noon. That meant he had exactly five hours to come up with a plan. He turned, and the chair spun out from under him, crashing backward into the cubicle wall. A slow keening rose to a loud pitch as the wall began to tilt over, ending in a dull thud as the partition fell. Arthur landed unceremoniously on top of the fallen structure.

Two men in the background watched with blank stares as Arthur struggled to get to his feet. They came into view as his head peeked over the desk. Smile, damn it, smile! Showmanship. Sell it! “Oh, he… hey!” He stumbled over his own feet, nearly collapsing again. “Damn chair just fell out from under me. Good thing I stretch so much.” He bent over, striking a pose to demonstrate his flexibility. A loud crack echoed through the room as he hit his final pose. Oh god! I’m paralyzed…

The two men blinked and walked away. Good, they bought it. He stayed hunched over for a moment, questioning his life choices. A silent prayer left his lips before his first attempt to stand. A high-pitched squeal he had no idea he was capable of making escaped him. Ow! On the second attempt, he rose a little more, then a little more, until finally he stood upright. A dull ache still radiated in his lower back, but, as luck would have it, he was not in fact paralyzed.

He grabbed the wall of the cubicle that had fallen. I should set this back up. The top broke off as he lifted. He stared at the piece of plastic and metal in his hand. Why do you hate me? The glowing red of the clock showed twelve twenty-three. Daylight was burning fast, and he needed to figure out what his plan of attack would be. With a sigh, he grabbed his bag, slinging the strap over his head, and made his way to the break room.

The smell of burnt coffee and withered dreams wafted through the doorway. Arthur scrunched his nose, unable to hide his distaste. No time for retreat now. This was serious business. Inside the small room sat three people. At the round table, sipping an energy drink and scrolling through her phone, was Stacy. In front of the vending machine, dressed in proper slacks, leather shoes, and a bow tie—attire far too nice for this department—stood Riley. Farther back, leaning against the wall and looking half asleep, was Leon.

Okay. Now what? Arthur approached Riley. “Hey, man! Tough day, am I right?”

Riley turned to face him. “What?”

“The day… never mind.” Arthur pulled out a dollar from his pocket. “How about I buy ya lunch?”

“With a dollar?” Riley asked, an eyebrow raised slightly.

Arthur stretched his arm out. Riley sighed and grabbed the dollar. “What the hell?! Why is it wet?” he said, his face scrunched like he had just eaten a sour candy.

“Oh! Sorry, I’m a… a little sweaty,” Arthur said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Gross, dude.”

“So, uh, I heard you were working on that special project for Vance. What’s that all about?” Arthur asked, leaning in.

Riley pushed the dollar back into Arthur’s chest, turning back to the vending machine. “Seriously? You want me to just spill company secrets? Isn’t it bad enough that one of the bosses is under investigation?”

Arthur bent over to pick up the dollar as Riley made his selection. “No! What?! That’s crazy… But if someone were looking for a… competitive edge, where would they look?”

“What’s this about, dude?” Riley turned to him.

“He’s probably getting fired,” Stacy said without looking up. “That’s the only reason anyone around here would work harder.”

“Wha—!? No… I’m fine. Totally fine…” he said, smoothing out his shirt. “Just in case… what do you know?” His eyes darted to her, wide and pleading.

“Jesus, dude, I was joking. Are you seriously getting fired?” she asked, finally looking up from her phone.

“I… no… maybe. I don’t know.” His head slumped.

Riley grabbed a coffee cup, dropping one packet of sugar in. “That’s your plan? Steal someone’s work to not get fired?”

Arthur’s eyes flew up. “What? No— hey, wait, do you think that would work? Ah, what am I saying!”

Stacy laughed. “My god, do you hear yourself? Why would you want to stay here anyway? I wish they’d fire me…”

Riley cleared his throat. “Right… Look, man, how do you know you’re getting fired?”

Arthur’s shoulders slumped. “Coleman sent me a direct email.” In a mocking voice, he said, “Meet me in my office at five, bring your stuff.”

“That’s it?” Leon finally spoke. “You broke a cubicle for this nonsense?”

Arthur stood up. “Nonsense! That email couldn’t be more clear. Wait… you saw me?”

“Everyone heard it! You think a loud boom in a quiet office isn’t going to get some eyes on it?” Leon replied with crossed arms.

Arthur’s face turned beet red. “The floor was slippery!”

“It’s carpet,” Stacy noted.

“Whose side are you on?!” Arthur blurted out.

She shrugged and went back to her phone. Leon uncrossed his arms and walked out of the room. “Grow up. All of you.”

“Hey, what did I do?!” Riley said with a frown.

Arthur looked away. The clock on the wall read one. Time seemed to be moving faster. There was no way so much of it had passed. Four hours remained to save himself from the proverbial chopping block. Arthur stood and raced for the door. Maybe if I can get lucky with the owner. We can have lunch. I can win him over with my insatiable… is that the right word? My insatiable charm.

“He’s going to do something really stupid, isn’t he?” Riley muttered before sipping his coffee, wincing at the taste.

“God, I hope someone films it,” Stacy replied as she walked out the door.

—

The entryway was rather simple. A few ferns in the corner. Obligatory indoor fountain. Ordinary business flash. The kind of stuff that screamed upper middle management without needing to break the bank. To the rear of the lobby, on the left, the elevator doors opened, revealing a man dressed in a decent gray suit. His brown shoes echoed with each step, his silver wristwatch glinting in the light as he passed by.

“Sir, the car is ready.”

“Thank you, James,” Mandow replied. An anguished cry captured his attention as he made his way past the fountain.

Arthur emerged from the stairwell, cursing like a sailor. He hopped on one foot while the other was grasped in his hand. All eyes focused in his direction. “Stupid door. Oh god, my toe. Why? Why?!” Why do I feel so cold all of a sudden? Tension pulled his shoulders up as he realized everyone was watching him. He slowly raised his head, looking out at the group of people. “Heh.” The laugh came out wrong, like a weak cough. “The new guardrails… they, uh, really catch you off guard. Someone ought to look into that. OSHA codes and all…”

Mandow watched carefully, an almost blank expression on his face. Arthur noticed him from the corner of his eye and began to approach. I can’t tell if he is annoyed or constipated…

Two men in black suits blocked his path. Arthur raised his arm, signaling Mandow. “Sir! Sir! You don’t know me. My name is Arthur, and I was wondering if I could buy you lunch?”

Mandow stared at him as security grabbed him by the collar.

“No, wait! I’ll pay.”

Mandow raised a hand, and the two stopped. “Do you even work here?”

“Yes!” His voice cracked. “Yes, I work on the fourth floor.” He tried to lower the pitch of his voice.

“Ah, accounting.” Mandow eyed him up and down. “Bold move, offering to buy me lunch.” He smiled. “I appreciate boldness. You have thirty seconds to impress me. Don’t disappoint.”

Arthur stood, brushing off his tacky brown shirt. “Thank you, sir, I app—”

“Twenty-five seconds,” Mandow remarked.

Arthur dropped his bag, and papers scattered. “I… uhhh.” Just talk, damn it!

“Twenty-two seconds.”

“Sir, I know an amazing spot for sushi! Just opened up. They have an amazing unagi roll. You won’t be able to remember your own name!”

“Right. Boys.” Mandow waved his hands, and the men grabbed Arthur.

“No, wait! Please. I—” His body went limp in the arms of the guards. “Sir… the truth is. The truth is I’m terrible at this. I’m not a people person. But I am good with patterns.”

The guards hoisted him up higher.

“Sir, just… the shipping costs! The numbers! Ah!”

Mandow raised his hand, and security dropped Arthur on the ground. He hit with a loud crack, and he winced. My tailbone! Why?! Arthur crawled to his bag and retrieved the papers that had fallen out. “I probably should have put these in a folder…” He handed Mandow the papers, doing his best to smooth them out first.

He looked down and noticed a small tear in his pants from when the guards had yanked him up. His hands shot out before he could stop them, trying to bunch the fabric together—a vain attempt to make the hole disappear. No, this wouldn’t do at all. He shuffled toward the back of the idling car, slowly trying to hide the tear. Inside his bag was a stapler. If he could only grab it…

Mandow walked forward. “These cash flows. You’re saying we can save $500,000. How?”

Arthur hit the ground with a thud, tripping over his own feet. A small ripping sound filled the air, nearly imperceptible, but Arthur was sure everyone heard it. Time seemed to move in slow motion at that moment. Here he was, begging for his job, and this stupid tear was going to cost him everything.

Mandow waved the papers in his face. “How did you get these numbers?”

“Oh, right. I noticed that we were paying a rather high amount for shipping costs using Legacy. Like, oddly high. Roughly 50% above the market. I tried to find the receipts but couldn’t, so I did some digging and found a new supplier. We can get a discount for a year that should offset the cost, and after the price goes back to normal, it won’t be any higher than the normal market average,” he said matter-of-factly as he continued fumbling with his pants.

“James! Call Harold. Tell him I’m not coming today. Reschedule my meeting.” He turned back to Arthur. “You, what was your name again, boy?”

“Uhhh. It’s Arthur, sir. What is happening right now? Are we going to lunch?”

—

Two hours had passed. Arthur sat in a waiting room outside a board meeting. “They could have given me new pants…” The doors swung open, and being led out was Aston Lawrence, the head of finance. He glared at Arthur as he was escorted out of the building in handcuffs. Huh, that was rude.

James walked out the double doors. “They’ll see you now.”

Arthur walked in, smoothing out his brown shirt. “Hel—” His voice cracked badly. “Ahem! ACK, ack, hello.” The note came out much deeper than he wanted it to.

“You really aren’t a people person, are you?” Mandow commented.

He sighed heavily. “… no. I lied on my resume. I’ve been a fraud this whole time.” I knew it. Being fired for lying. Try to be honest, and this is where it gets you. His shoulders slumped. “I’ll go clear out my desk.”

Mandow blinked as Arthur walked to the door. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or concussed. Did the guards drop you too hard?”

“What?” Arthur turned slowly.

“You’re not being fired. You’re being promoted.”

“Wait, what?!” Arthur stood up taller, and a loud tear echoed through the office as his pants fell.

Arthur grabbed what remained of his pants and pulled them up high. “Oh dear god, I’m so sorry. Aw, I liked these pants too.”

Mandow’s fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. “You just gave me the smoking gun I needed. Lawrence was being investigated, but my team couldn’t find the connection. You found it for me. Turns out Lawrence has a brother-in-law who just so happens to own a rather large share in Legacy Logistics.”

“You mean the guy who just walked out? Well, that explains a lot,” Arthur said, doing his best to hide his discount-brand whitey tighties.

“Would you please go get some pants,” one of the other board members finally chimed in.

—

Arthur was setting up his new desk on the sixth floor when he remembered the email. His old boss was going to fire him. He should probably let him know of his new promotion. The look on his face when he learns the man he was going to fire is now above him. Oh, how I have longed for such power.

The door to Coleman’s office opened, and Arthur strode in, equipped with his trusty gym shorts to save him the shame of walking around in underwear. Coleman sat at his desk, not even looking up at first, so focused on his own work. He doesn’t even know what’s coming.

Finally, the man looked up. “Ah! Arthur. Did you bring everything? Where are your pants?”

“My pants are no concern of yours, Coleman! I no longer work for you.” He strode up to the desk, standing like a superhero over a villain. “I’m on the sixth floor now. What do you say to that?!”

“Wow! Arthur, congratulations. You definitely deserve it.” Coleman stood, offering his hand.

“Say what now? Weren’t you going to fire me?” Arthur said, leaning in further.

“Fire you? What?! No. Why would you think that?” Coleman asked, almost offended.

“Why would I think… THE EMAIL! Bring all your stuff. How else was I supposed to read it!”

Coleman sighed. “Did you read the attachment?”

“There was an attachment!?” Arthur pulled out his phone and reopened the email. Sitting at the bottom of the screen was a document labeled Dungeon Master’s Guide.

Coleman sat back in his chair. “The game is this weekend. Remember?”

Arthur stared at the screen, trying his best to shrink in on himself. The color of his face went from pale, to beet red, to a shade of purple, then back to pale. He barely heard as Coleman asked, “What’s this email about you breaking a partition?”