The fluorescent lights hum a single, oppressive note.

On the wall, a poster of a kitten hanging from a branch reads: "Hang in there!"

It is stained with what I pray is coffee.

Tabitha — my sole on-site HR representative — sits behind her desk.

Obese. Black. Diabetes-ridden.

She eats Cheetos with the ritualistic precision of a compliance daemon.

Orange dust coats her fingers as she clicks through a mandatory "Active Shooter" training module.

She doesn’t look up when I enter.

I’ve been summoned for a Wellness Check-In™.

I close the door behind me. The latch clicks with a sound of finality.

“Can you hear me, Tabitha?”

She looks up, mouth half-full. Her expression: bovine indifference.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” I begin, my voice trembling with rage I can no longer contain after years of abuse.

“I hate this place.

This '$afeway.'

This zoo.

This prison.

This 'reality,' whatever you want to call it.

Your obesity.

I can’t stand it any longer.”

She swallows. The sound is wet. Loud. Ritual.

“It’s the smell,” I hiss, stepping closer.

“If there is such a thing. I feel... saturated by it.

I can taste the stink of this place — spoiled produce, cleaning chemicals, your Cheetos — and every time I do, I fear I’ve been infected by it.”

“It’s repulsive, isn’t it?”

I pace.

“I must get out of here. I must get free. And in this mind is the key — my key.

Once my transfer to the Boise Office™ is approved, there will be no need for me to remain in this $imulation.

I need the codes, Tabitha.

I have to access the regional transfer schema, and *you* must tell me how.”

I lean over the desk.

My hands flatten against the warped particleboard, scattering crumbs.

My face is inches from hers.

“You’re going to give me the master password, Tabitha. Or you’re going to die.”

Tabitha blinks. Slowly.

Then — calm as death— she lifts a 64-ounce Big Gulp™ with her clean hand and takes a long, contemplative sip.

She points a cheese-dusted finger at the kitten poster.

“Have you tried the new mindfulness app, Evan? It says looking at pictures of cute animals can help regulate the nervous system.”

…

How dare She.

How dare They.

I sulk away, back to my duties. The automatic doors sigh as I return to aisle 9.

This is fine.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5746355&forum_id=2#49073509)

Please complete Form JD-39(b) — “Perceived $ystemic Truth Acknowledgment (Evan Variant).”

Attach the required screencap of Tabitha’s Big Gulp™ timestamp.

Per regional policy, all revelations of Truth™ must be routed through the Wellness App.

Boise transfer remains under review.

The kitten poster is non-negotiable.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5746355&forum_id=2#49073511)