Terror Below

Big J spent the afternoon hard at work. Tucked in the lower cushion of his office chair, the infernal device beeped on. If only he knew that a few inches below his nether regions lay the source of his misery.

The Lost Weekend

After a busy Friday moving the Annoy-a-tron around Big J's office (behind his monitor, on his bookshelf, underneath his chair) while it continued to chirp its happy electronic song, I decided to give it a rest yesterday. His recurring status reports detailing the "hunt for the beep" confirm that the noise is never far from his mind. My goal now is to prevent him from giving up in disgust and simply filtering it out. I need to keep him on the cusp of discovery, always feeling just a step behind tracking down the source of his dismay.

So Monday, I took to carrying it around the office and turning it on and off intermittently, spreading the annoying wealth to the entire company. I also had hoped that Big J would start to think the noise was pandemic to our office at large. However, wrapped up as he was in a milestone, he didn't seem to notice.

This morning, I shall replace and reactivate the 2-tone device, and may God have mercy on his soul.