The Official Office Games

Now that is very true. *high five*

I can't wait until the results come out.

Huh, Lucy will be pissed that she missed all of this :tehe:

I checked her profile AGAIN.

She still isn't back yet...*worried* It's been over a month and a half.

:lmfao

What have I have been doing these six weeks?
I'll find the page where the notices are :cute:

Huh?

Ohh... Sorry! I thought you were talking about Ari :tehe:

When will the epic failing end? omgno:

And I'm not sure if it IS the fifth... I just remember the fifth being one of the dates... I'll find the page again and leave a link.

Oops... I was... maybe a few days off :tehe:

Saturday, 4th July, 2009 - Nominations Open: All nominations are to be posted on the dedicated sticky

Saturday, 4th July, 2009 - 12AM LA time on Saturday, 18th July, 2009/Sunday, 19th July, 2009 - Nomination period

Sunday, 19th July, 2009 - 2009 Vertigo Award finalists are notified via a message, so, they can prepare their excerpts for the Reading Period

Sunday, 19th July, 2009 - Friday, 24th July, 2009 - Any interested finalists who wish to submit an excerpt on time before the Reading Period begins must do so during this five day period - Excerpts submitted after the five days will still be accepted, but, finalists should be aware that they won't be posted on time with all the other ones

Sunday, 26th July, 2009 - The official list of all finalists for the 2009 Vertigos are announced on a dedicated sticky

Sunday, 26th July, 2009 - Sunday, 2nd August, 2009 - Reading Period: Everyone is encouraged to take the opportunity to check out all finalists

Monday, 3rd August, 2009 - Saturday, 21st August, 2009 - Voting Period: All votes are sent in via the 'REPORT!' function, hence, votes are done by "secret ballot"

Sunday, 22nd August, 2009 - 2009 Vertigo Award winners are announced

Reading period HAS started Tumi...

I know... I must've read the notices about ten times :tehe:

I want you to start replying to comments in the MCMB thread.

I think the user's are bored of me.

You know the password and username. xD

I found this really awesome Harry Potter fanfiction

Aaaaaah I can't wait until the results come in!!! :crazy:

On MCMB?

Si ^-^

Ah! Sammy! We need to post the chapters :shock:

I'll have to edit through the first one... * :cheese:* at the typos.
Do you wanna tackle the second one?

Er...no. I'm kidding.

I'd LOVE to edit it.

You gotta be quicker than me though....because yours go's first. xD

Editing complete.

I spell checked, and grammar checked it, although the grammar part peeved me off, because it wanted me to change all the didn't's do did not's. Urgh.

As the conference drew to an end, and everyone was excused, I rushed past all the men and squeezed past the double doors, pushed forward by the crowd restless to get on with the rest of the day. My face was flushed in all it's heated glory.

"Victoria, would you-" I didn't even glance back as Cole called after me in an impatient, exasperated tone. I was too ashamed, and though a small part of me couldn't resist to reply, I would not be able to endure staring at his charismatic, comfortingly- familiar face, wondering for the umpteenth time why he was involved with a skank like Claire.

Well, actually I had a very feasible guess, but I always thought Cole was above that kind of thing...But I guess I was wrong. This realization slapped me hard and cold like bitter frost.

I pushed my way into the elevator and at some point I was shoved around and ended up into the middle of the edgy mob. It appeared that everyone from the meeting was in a rush and didn't want to wait around for the next ride. I swear, it was as overpopulated and crowded as a hamster cage at PetSmart.

I stepped back and subconsciously hid myself amongst the mass of people as Cole and Mr Caughey joined the already crammed elevator, both of them were chuckling privately at some stupid joke, like they were high school buddies or something.

I wonder if he knows that his last girlfriend dumped him for Cole, I couldn't help but wonder cynically as the two men chatted animatedly. Somehow, I didn't think so. It was a shame when Mrs Caughey finally realized that her faithful husband of ten years hadn't been so faithful when he'd traveled to other states for various business appointments. I missed her Friday Carrot Muffins and her Monday Brownies. It was also a shame that Mr Caughey was in a lawsuit trying- and failing, as the rumors went- to salvage his fortune and protect his will.

Now that I think about it, 'ole George and Cole have a lot in common.

The elevator doors finally closed together and we started scaling up. I sighed in relief- only to squeal in pain when somebody stepped on my toes unprotected by my sandals. "SONOFABITCH!" I yelped as I hopped on one leg whilst awkwardly grabbing my foot and rubbing it. I got impatient scowls as I hurtled into some of the businessmen from the prior meeting.

Oh my God it hurts. I whimpered as I nursed my toe, idiotically wondering if any skin had somehow peeled away. Or worse; if it was bleeding. It sure as hell felt like it!

For what felt like the billionth time this day, I let out the deep breath I'd been holding, and I gently placed my sore foot down. When I glanced up, fifteen pairs of eyes seemed to be staring in my direction. I gulped and clamped my hands together. "Ahem. Err...somebody stepped on my toe," I mumbled lamely. They all continued to stare at me unfearingly for a second or two, but eventually they turned back to whatever else they had been absorbed with.

As soon as I felt the awkward itchiness in my chest recede, I was sure I felt something brush across my cheeks, and not the cheeks on my face, as I'm sorry to report. I tensed quickly and then inconspicuously turned my head to investigate. There were three men in pinstripe suits, all pointedly staring at my butt. Rude! Gah! This was the most piggish and uncouth company I've had the unfortunates to meet. I gave them all my meanest, vehement glare and they simultaneously shifted their gaze to the doors. Who knew that a quick trip up the elevator would be such an embarrassing adventure? With all of the testosterone in the jam-packed space, I suddenly felt uncomfortable and self-conscious.

That's when my day officially shattered to piece around my ears.

I secluded myself in the least-occupied corner and watched the numbers scaling up, tapping my nails as I waited for floor eight to light up. Can someone tell me why were all the important meetings on the highest floors?

The elevator was two floors away from the heaven I've come to know, when I could've sworn that I felt a hand skim my leg. I quickly turned this time, glaring angrily at the guy who was crouching behind me. I grabbed his tie and yanked him to his feet.

"Touch me again," I snarled quietly, "And I won't be held responsible for the reflex actions that follow suit. And just as a warning; I'm a brown belt in Karate."

The guy slowly nodded and opened his mouth, when I held a hand up and interrupted him. "Stop; I don't want to hear whatever pathetic excuse you could possibly have." Women power!

I turned back to the door and nearly cried for joy when I saw that number 8 lit up.
Home sweet bloody home.

Hastily, I waded through the mosh pit of people and elbowed my way to the delightfully large and open lobby. Pressure was lifted from my shoulders like a heavy weight as I escaped the party of bothersome men. I needed someone to talk to. Fast. I pursued Cole, and once I fell in step behind him, I had a strong urge to take off my sandal and batter his thick head with it until he was seeing stars. It's what any Indian lady would do.

"Ms Wylie." I stopped dead in my track as the voice from the dispersing business men reeled me back in. I reluctantly consented and reversed my steps.

Gah, what now?

It was George, gesturing to me. With him, standing slightly hunched, a blush decorating his face, was the ass-grabber from the elevator. I had a bad feeling about this.

Man, oh man, was I dead on.

My face already coloring when I reached them. "Uh-err... Yes, Mr Caughey?"

He put a hand on the guy's shoulder. "Mr Stevens, one of the gentlemen presented at our briefing today, has just informed me that you made a considerable threat against him."

What? Is that what he said? I wanted to shout heatedly. I couldn't find my voice; it had crippled under the influence of my boss.

"Uh- Ms Wylie," Mr Stevens intervened. "You have misunderstood my intentions. You thought I obviously was-was-" he paused for a moment and coughed, embarrassed. "...Trying to do something inappropriate whilst in the elevator."

I tap my foot, unimpressed, and stared him down. What do you mean, 'trying do to something inappropriate'? Pah! You did! And I could tell that he got the message through my demeanor.

"Please," Mr Stevens said quickly. "Let me explain. A pin of mine had fallen loose from the breast pocket on my suit," he said, "and it got caught on the belt around your waist.

"I apologize if you thought that I-" and he cut himself off and smiled sheepishly. He looked as embarrassed as I felt. "Just- let's forget this ever happened."

"You understand," Caughey warned in a severe tone, "That such threats could get you suspended from the office department you currently work in? And you would be excused from the current Zappos project?"

I suddenly couldn't breathe. "Mr Caughey- sir- it was an innocent misunderstandings! My apologies, Mr Stevens," I turned to him, suddenly recognizing him as Hayley's old boss with irony. "I was-err- just... It was in self-defense. I felt threatened."

"I understand," he said politely, and with a wry smile, I wondered if he really did. I mean, has he ever been groped in an elevator before? For some reason, I doubt that.

"By the way," Mr Stevens asked with a small smile as Caughey went off, "Do you really own a brown belt in Karate?"

I felt the millionth blush for that day spread across my face. "Err... Yes, actually. I do." I offered an equally small, awkward smile, mentally slapping my forehead for ever saying that. What was I, threatening? HA. "Good day, Mr Stevens," I said, and swiftly left the scene.

Though today was a particularly crappy one, I ran a hand through my hair and found myself grinning and thinking dryly, Poor man; accused of being involved with nerds everywhere he turns.

Err... I just woke up :XD

I'll get to work on it right after breakfast (or technically late lunch :tehe:)

Done! :mrgreen:

*~*

Failure! Failure! That’s all my life was, one big, blaring failure after another rearing their ugly heads into existence.

I’m actually shivering when I recount what happened mere minutes ago. Shivering! It’s that bad.

This morning was a doozy.

First, the interventions were small. I discovered that the silk blouse I was planning to wear this morning was still at the drycleaner’s, which wouldn’t open for another hour. Every other special office attire I could find was nowhere to be seen. Crap! My morning was delayed as I searched for something else to wear. Then came the confrontation with the empty pantry. Nothing left on the shelves would be quick to prepare, and time was running out. After combing through the rest of the kitchen, I found an orange and a slightly bruised banana left in the chill storage bin at the bottom of the fridge. I sighed as I peeled back the banana and went about the apartment to finish getting dressed for work.

What a glorious way to start my commuter morning.

Today of all days was special. My heart was in a fluttering tremor as I thought of the day’s circumstances, and I felt as if I were in junior high all over again. Cole and I had been temporarily paired by the Boss for an advertisement project that required twice the paperwork, twice the effort, and in result, twice the person to complete successfully; which, when concerning Cole, of course, meant one-and-a-half the effort and persons. Neither of us had any idea what product we would be advertising, and would be briefed at a conference, promptly 7:20 this morning.

I had to look my absolute best today. Not only was this one of the largest projects I’ve worked on in months, but now that Cole was involved, I wanted to show him that I was in control. I wanted to show him that buddying up with Claire was a fatal mistake on his part. I also didn’t want him to suspect any falter or cracks of any sort in my self-esteem. I wanted it to seem that his sudden departure from my life was meaningless to me.

I was definitely going to have to step up my acting skills to pull that off.

I left the apartment in a flurried panic when I realized the time. God, where did the minutes go? While I was trying to find my left T-strap sandal? While I was trying to yield my hair to curl and flounce and look presentable? For who? Cole? I rushed into the car with a multitude of objects at hand- keys, purse, juggling the odd fruit or two, phone, briefcase, and fumbling the long sought-after sandal on my foot as I jammed the key into the ignition.

Then the incidents became more intrusive.

On the way to highway 48, my oldie was finally dying on me, so I forced it to crawl over to the curb on Harper Road and kept the blinker on to alert other drivers that I was in need of assistance. Time passed. First I grew unsettled, and then I was a bit antsy. I was going to be late for work- and that couldn’t happen! No! I willed it not to happen! I thought of my flawless attendance record. Soiled, ruined, if things didn’t begin to move.

Finally, I decided to stop sitting around on my ass. If I remembered correctly, the city bus would be toiling its way through here in about fifteen minutes.

The time ticked by slowly, leisurely, mocking me with each twitch of the seconds’ arm of the clock on my dashboard. I tried to concentrate on other things; the advertisement; getting to work right on the dot with a careless and cheerful skip into the lobby; greeting my colleagues with a graceful wave. “Oh? This? I was just trying something new with my hair? Do you like it?” I would ask with a casual air to the awed faces that surrounded me. Among them would be Cole, hesitantly stepping forward. “Victoria, darling? I know I’ve been such an unforgivable jerk- and-and it would be too much to ask for if I asked you to come back to me, but I’ve missed you terribly.”

His striking slate grey eyes would sparkle with sincerity and I would be filled to the brim with endearment and rush into his open arms and-

No! No! I could not continue to go about like this. Humph. As if I were one of those middle-aged, single, horny women that wrote plot-twisting libido-teeming romance novels like their life depended on it.

Actually, come to think of it, all I needed was the pen. And some writing skills.

My eyes wander to the dashboard clock as I reluctantly withdraw from my reverie. Nearly eighteen minutes have passed, and the bus was yet to arrive.

Aw, crap!

Now I was just plain furious. Chewed-short nails tapped the steering wheel with agitation. If that bus wouldn’t come, I swear I’d go crazy- right in this car! Right now, if I haven’t already!

I began to have a fit. I’m gonna be late! I’m gonna be late! I could already see myself sprawling past the main entrance only to run into one of Claire’s Barbie friends at the reception desk, filing her nails and arching her eyebrows at me (My God, they’re everywhere!) I’d sputter to my superior some lame excuse to why I was late. “I-I would have been on time, sir, would it not have been for the fact that… My hair wouldn’t curl right?” I’d have run the entire way from Harper, red in the face and chest heaving.

Oh, the horror! Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the interior of my deceased automobile. Yeah, it’s official. I’ve gone mad.

It wasn’t long after I was spazzing out behind the wheel when, blessedly, the old Greyhound finally shuffled to the allocated bus stop just down the street. Immediately, I shot out of the driver’s seat, keys in hand, and secured the locks before racing to the stop. I prayed to the God that must be laughing in my face right now that my baby wasn’t vandalized…Or stripped…Or stolen.

I exhaled gratefully, as if I’d been holding my breath, as I crammed the money into the driver’s hand and seated myself in a vacant row of seats facing parallel to the isle.
During the bus ride, I kept to myself, aware of how clumsily slapped on my makeup was, how my hair never failed to look like crap, and I occupied my time trying to organize all of the bits and ends of my apparel. My eyes averted everyone else’s, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the bus slowed and stopped as close as it would to the office building. Quickly, I brushed my skirt and smoothed out my high collar shirt and hurried down the steps with all of my things in possession.

It wasn’t until the Greyhound was well on its way, did I realize that not everything was at hand…

My imitation Prada was still riding.

I swore as I realized its absence among the other items. My brain raced as it ran through all of the things I would be without.

Money; ID; credit cards; house keys- which, regrettably, I haven’t been able to string it onto the metal ring with the car keys. They made those little key rings too hard to work, I swear! Makeup; my comb and it entourage of other grooming supplies (which I honestly didn’t know if I’d be better with or without); any spare change I could’ve used; phone, which I’d packed into the purse on the way there to lighten the load. Stupid, stupid! And other bits and pieces in my purse. Man, was I royally screwed. or what?

Things just kept falling to shambles, like a track of triggered dominoes.

It gets worse.

A wave of relief washed over me as I realized that though I was late for work, I’d still made it to the meeting on time. I rode the elevator to the third floor and walked down to the end of the silent corridor. I slipped behind the inconspicuous black double doors just as Cole was being seated. George McCaughey, my boss, hailed me as I seated myself in one of the leather swiveling armchairs surrounding the long stretch of the rectangular oak table. The two rows of track lighting above us were dimmed, so the room was fairly dark. The meeting was taking place in the Projector Room, where the product in question was displayed by the projector onto the wall at the end of the room. I had no idea what the heck it was.

“Victoria! I’m glad you could make it. We missed you this morning.”

‘We’?

“Uh-well, sir, I was belated by some… complications… on my way here.” Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Cole looking at me oddly. He was probably wondering what in the hell could ever keep me from getting to my office on time.

“You’re just in time.” McCaughey smiled kindly. “The meeting starts in just a few moments.” As he spoke, a number of men in dark suits entered through the doors and seated around Cole and I. One, whom I recognized as Hayley’s former boss, stood before me and coughed gently.

“Excuse me… You’re in my seat.”

I blushed and jumped up with a start. “Your seat is to the left of Cole.” McCaughey offered. Peachy, I thought cynically and rigidly sat at the appointed chair. Neither Cole nor I acknowledged each other. George waited patiently for the movement to settle.

Finally, he said, “Good morning. You have all been recruited this morning for the viewing of Chaplin And Company’s newest advertisement product. Please turn your attention to the image projected onto the screen.” Heads shifted. “Ladies- err, lady- and gentlemen, I present to you, Zappos ^TM.”

Err… still no idea what the heck it is.

“Zappos is an online commerce service that specializes in footwear. Its headquarters are in Henderson, Nevada. I have assigned two of my employees- Ms. Wylie and Mr. Conman- to create an ingenuous advertisement to be broadcasted to the public via television as a commercial.”

I straightened up with a start. I felt Cole to my right stir. Holy crap! Why didn’t this come up yesterday?

With an amused glance in our direction, McCaughey said, “Said employees have not been informed of the format of advertisement, but I trust that nevertheless, they will do a bang-up job.”

You’re kidding, right? This is Cole we’re talking about.

Boss then addressed the men seated around us. “Gentlemen, I’m guessing you’re all wondering why you are here.” There were murmurs of concur. “Well, I have gathered you here for the briefing of the Zappos project because…”

I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence because at that point someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned. Cole tilted his clipboard that he would use to take notes with in my direction.

What is wrong with you? The words were scribbled in his slanted handwriting.

What was this, high school?

Quickly, I took my ballpoint pen and wrote curtly, why do you think something’s wrong?

Because you’re PMSing all over the damn place.

Oh, I thought in contempt. He noticed. Then I replied, so how’s Claire?

Cole looked up at me strangely. “Is that what this is all about? Listen, Victoria-.”

“Can Ms. Wylie and Mr. Conman please stop mooning around and focus on the business matter at hand?” I felt my face heat up as eyes landed on Cole and me. “Now,” George continued in a clipped tone, “As I was saying…”

The rest of the conference became a distant blur as I slumped in my chair and feverously wished that I could crawl underneath the table.

*~*
So when will we post?

Now?
I'm completely bored.
This will amuse me for a few minutes.

How about calling this chapter... a day from hell?