It started innocuously. Yesterday, there was a package of little, pink, marshmallow bunnies in the break room. I ignored it, despite the nagging in the back of my head. I shook it off and avoided the break room for the rest of the day, thinking it would go away.

But no.

Those bastard cubicle ninjas have started the celebration that is the anti-thesis of everything that is Utopia. (Utopia being me and not the concept proscribed by Sir Moore.)

For most of the morning, I avoided the break room. Knowing, but in a state of denial of what would lie there. soon, my need for caffeine and hot tea overwhelmed me and I could no longer stay away. My lemon poppy seed muffins need to be washed down by a hot and tasty beverage. The tart taste lingered in my mouth joyfully, yet at the same time my throat remained parched.

I went into the den of the ninja: the break room of the pink bunny clan. While they are not near as ominous as the clan of the fat, jolly man (no, not Buddha), they are indeed fierce and cause much consternation and annoyance.

I walked into the den to retrieve my hot, tasty beverage and relieve the thirst I had acquired. It had been taken over. The cubicle ninjas had struck again. Bunnies everywhere, on the windows, on the walls. I was surrounded by the grey mush of what I knew to be pastel colors despite the fact my brain blocked them out in self defense. I ducked quickly toward the coffee machine and opened the den of tea, my safe haven.

There was more. Those bastard cubicle ninjas did not even leave my haven safe, my treasure, my booty. Oh no. Within my cabinet of hidden treasures I saw it. Bright yellow, not of gold, tea or spices. The yellow of marshmallow birds … the spun sugar of hate and deception. I turned, grabbing tea before the yellow marshmallow chicks could see me and turned. It would not end, in my search for the warm water, I saw more. Chocolate bunnies, colorful hard candies … jelly beans. It was terrible.

My sanctuary has been corrupted by the cubicle ninjas. They covered it in the substance they know I hate: pastels and sugar.

You win this round, but you will not win the war.

I am heartened by the fact that all of the cubicle ninjas most fierce proponents are not in the office this week. Their doors are closed and offices dark leaving only we pirates who fight the torments of their nefarious ways.

But now… now I know one of my compatriots is indeed a spy. It is worrisome.

Posted by Utopia at April 5, 2006 11:33 AM

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Posted by: katkat at April 5, 2006 04:08 PM

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