The short, fat
appendage of the time telling apparatus inched closer to the marking
representing the 3rd digit of the Sumerian numerical
series. The complexity of that statement that merely said it was just
3 o clock amused Adam to no end as he sat at the 4 by 2 table,
leafing through invoices of “Acme and Co”. Wielding the 2 pens of
accounting destiny, the blue pen of creation and the red pen of
fulfillment, he confirmed, denied and endorsed every transaction that
came his way, guiding them to their final resting places in the
ledger of the gods. He was the St Peter of accounting. He was Auditor
Adam.
As Adam vouched and
casted to his heart's content, there came the inevitable accumulation
of original invoices ready to receive the grace of the holy light
bestowed by the almighty Deus ex Xerox. As Adam marked the chosen
with the pens of destiny, he looked towards the faces of the eager
invoices awaiting salvation and sighed. The mountain of paperwork
that lay towering above the tabletop looked as daunting as the peak
of K2. “Not like I have a choice”, he thought as he herded the
stack of invoices towards the room of the revered Xerox machine.
As Adam approached the
room, his expert auditor senses tingled. Something was amiss. The
usually benevolent hum of the gates to accounting salvation sounded
hostile, malignant. Adam approached cautiously. Something was very,
very wrong. The machine beeped as though mocking Adam's cautions,
laughing scornfully at the auditor's cowardice. A cold wind blew
through the room, and the chosen invoices shivered in fear.
Adam stepped into the
room and the corrupted guardian immediately roared to life. A
cacophony of beeps pierced the previously tranquil air. The status
panel flashed red and Adam knew immediately what was wrong. The
fallen Stygian staples have infiltrated the gates and have corrupted
the holy guardian, wreaking havoc within. The cry of help of the
guardian of the gateway did not fall on apathetic ears. Adam gritted
his teeth and growled, “You dare show yourself in this sacred
place, demons?” “You will NEVER corrupt that which is true and
fair”. Adam rolled up his sleeves and summoned the powers of the
FRS, bestowed on him by the ones in the high tower.
He rushed at the
Xerox, immediately opening the feeder tray and extracting an
offending fallen staple, banishing it to where it came. One down. No
time to waste, the staples were destroying the guardian from within,
using their infernal touch to overheat the divine mechanisms. Cover A
was next and 2 of the imps lay hidden under flap B, deep within the
heart of the Xerox. Time was running out, the intruders have summoned
the power of the Enron and the infernal heat emanating from the
guardian felt as though the explosive diarrhea of hell's bowels have
ripped Tartarus asunder and spilled its heat onto our mortal plane.
“Debiting damnation”, the auditor swore as the 2 demons rattled
smugly, laughing at the auditor's helplessness.
Adam reached into his
pocket for his divine instruments and spoke unto them, “You have
served me well, my faithful companions, but today I must ask you to
lend me your strength and to do our duty to the ones in the high
tower.” The blue and red pens of destiny glowed, bathed in the
strength of the FRS, eager to do their master proud and sacrifice
themselves for the greater good. “I thank you for your sacrifice oh
noble ones. You will never be forgotten,” he said. With his new
found power the tools of destiny had bestowed him, he plunged the
pens deep into the guardian's heart, with 2 deft strikes with the nib
on both pens, he dislodged the accursed staples from their demonic
lairs and sent them right to the abyss of the waste disposal unit.
“And good riddance you unvouched ulcer,” he shouted after them as
they fell to their doom.
Adam quickly pulled
his companions out of the infernal heat and pulled a rough sheet of
paper from Tray 2. “ Don't die on me,” he cried, his eyes
brimming with tears. As the 2 pen nibs touched paper, their life
blood of blue and red stirred within them, waxing in the presence of
the great white plain. As Adam moved their nibs slowly across the
white expanse, their ball bearings grinded to life and turned once
more, flooding the white with their ichors of blue and red, once
again able to serve the ones in the high tower. Adam breathed a sigh
of relief as his companions lived to fight another day.
The battle was won,
but the war was far from over. Someone was responsible for this
desecration of hallowed ground. Someone had opened the gates to
salvation and allowed the stygian intruders in. Adam knew exactly who
he was. But that is a story for another day in...
...Auditor Adam and
the Incorrigible Intern!
