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“Food, Feuds and Fake Flora” by Ocean Tigrox

Food, Feuds and Fake Flora is a story about when office lunch theft goes terribly wrong...

Today's story is “Food, Feuds and Fake Flora” by Ocean Tigrox, originally published in ROAR 6 - “Scoundrels”. Ocean is an award-winning author and editor, known for the Inhuman Acts anthology and the Fangs and Fonts podcast. You can find more of their work on their SoFurry page: https://ocean.sofurry.com/

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

Transcript
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You’re listening to The Voice of Dog. I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion, and today’s story is

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“Food, Feuds and Fake Flora”

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by Ocean Tigrox .

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This story was originally published in ROAR 6 -

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“Scoundrels”. Ocean is an award winning author and editor,

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known for the Inhuman Acts anthology and the Fangs and Fonts podcast.

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You can find more of their work on their SoFurry page: https://ocean.

https:

//ocean.sofurry.com/

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Food,

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Feuds and Fake Flora

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By Ocean Tigrox

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MONDAY "It was a...

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a..." Sandra trailed off as she consulted the stack of papers on her desk.

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Finding the yellow complaint form and tugging it free from the pile,

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the tawny cougar adjusted her thick-rimmed glasses

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and read it aloud.

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"A roasted red pepper and provolone chicken sandwich with chipotle mayo

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on sourdough bread."

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"As far as I know, I'm allergic to mayonnaise.

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mayonnaise." The silver lupine turned his head away,

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swallowing his breath mint

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and wiping away a small drop of creamy, reddish-white sauce from his grey muzzle.

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"Look, Jim." The feline took off her glasses

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and placed them beside the potted fake fern on her laminate desk.

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She sighed, sagging her shoulders as she clasped her paws together.

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"I'm not accusing you here.

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There've always been lunch thefts from time to time in this office.

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We're required to investigate each complaint.

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complaint." Sandra stood and turned to stare out the office window.

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She grumbled, "I'm sure the owner of that sandwich is terribly hungry right now.

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I would--That is to say,

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we all would like to know who took it."

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"Well, I'm sorry to say that I don't know who took that tantalizing meal.

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But I've heard the deli across the street makes a mean smoked meat sandwich.

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sandwich." Sandra spun around and slammed her fists on the desk,

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shaking the fern's leaves and rattling the office supplies.

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"Well maybe that deli never prepares your sandwich right,

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or doesn't realize that some of us

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don't like to have their bread drowning in mustard!"

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The middle aged cougar

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bit her lip and closed her eyes.

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Standing up straight,

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she took a deep breath

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and squeezed the bridge of her shortened muzzle.

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"Sorry, sorry. I apologize for that outburst.

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Let's just...move on.

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on." Sandra sat back down

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and wheeled herself back under the desk.

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"Of course, Sandra. No apology needed.

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needed." Jim nodded, picking out some crumbs from under his claws.

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The cougar opened one of the desk drawers

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and picked through the files contained within.

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"I have a favour to ask.

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As you may have heard,

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management has hired a new employee to overlook our processes

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and update them so we can be a more efficient team.

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team." Sandra withdrew a file

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and pulled out a stapled set of sheets, reading them over.

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"Yes, here we go, a mister Harold O'Connor.

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He should be waiting out in the lobby.

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Could you please show him around the office?

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His desk and cubicle are next to yours."

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"I'll make sure he's given a warm Fake Ferns and Flora welcome.

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welcome." The wolf smiled and rose from his seat.

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"Also." Sandra raised a finger.

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"It's too late today,

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but you're welcome to take him to lunch

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and charge it on the company card."

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"Certainly, I'll take him to the deli.

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deli." Jim flashed a toothy grin.

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The wolf left before Sandra's grumbling about mustard could drag him back into another talk about improper office etiquette.

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He closed the HR manager's door behind him,

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preventing any of her outrage to slip out into the office.

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It was mid-afternoon

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and most of the other staff huddled away quietly in their individual cubicles.

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Next to each of their mailboxes sat a personal fake plant,

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each handpicked by Gene,

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the company owner, for them upon hire.

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Jim slipped across the open area, past the small jungle of silk ficus trees and artificial palms,

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and through double doors into the lobby.

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Atop the front desk counter sat a pot of plastic yellow daffodils,

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the perfect pick

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for a bright and cheery receptionist.

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The vixen behind the counter

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waved at Jim. "Hi Megan.

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Megan." The wolf flashed her a bright, white smile.

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"Sandra sent me for Harold."

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"Of course, he's over there.

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there." The fox gestured with a paw

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to the large, chestnut-brown bear sitting quietly.

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Harold sat like a lump,

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his large belly pushing at the bounds of his white shirt,

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the buttons strained at the seams.

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His paws gripped a worn briefcase.

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Jim stepped over to introduce himself.

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Another basic, boring bear.

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The wolf smoothed his grey pin-striped suit

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and offered a paw.

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"Harold O'Connor, right?

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I'm Jim Grossman, head of marketing and sales.

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Welcome to Fake Ferns and Flora!"

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"Hello!" The bear shook the wolf's hand and rose from his seat. "Happy to be here.

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here." Jim grinned. "Have you met anyone yet?"

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"Not personally. I was hired over the phone so this is my first time in the office."

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"Let me show you around then.

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then." Jim held the lobby door open so Harold could step into the office.

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Jim started pointing out various associates.

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"Over there is Andrew, he's in charge of distribution. We've got Yelena next to him, she's lead design.

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They look busy right now, but I'm sure they'll introduce themselves at the ceremony."

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"Ceremony?" Harold blinked.

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"Yes, little tradition Gene likes to have when a new member joins the team.

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team." The wolf patted the bear on the shoulder. "You'll see.

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see." Jim pointed to a cubicle on their left, near the entrance.

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Organized stacks of papers and reports

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occupied most of the tidy desk.

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A few other items fought for space:

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a business card holder,

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digital clock, and a single framed photograph of two wolves.

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The most colourful item

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was a vibrant trio of silk snapdragons:

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indigo, crimson,

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and pink. Gene's reasoning was that

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much like a real dragon,

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the sales team must be witty,

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cunning and fierce!

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"Here's my desk." Jim's tail wagged as he showed it off.

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"If you have any questions or concerns, you can usually find me here.

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But you won't have to go far because...

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because..." The wolf took a few steps over

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and motioned to the empty cubicle beside his.

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"This is your desk."

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"Ah, excellent!" Harold's ear flicked

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as he stepped forward to place his briefcase on the desk.

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"Watch out!" A voice squeaked out from the cubicle.

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The bear's eyes widened as he stepped back and a yellow and grey figure crawled out from under the desk,

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stood up and waved.

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"Hi there," the scrawny coyote greeted them.

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The hemp bracelets on his wrists, made of woven fair-trade fabrics and beads,

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clashed with his half tucked in yellow dress shirt

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and crooked, stained tie.

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"I'm just finishing setting up your desktop.

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desktop." Harold nodded. "This is Danny, our IT guy.

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guy." Jim cut in, shooing Danny back to work.

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"Go away now please.

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please." The office hummed with keyboard clacking

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and ringing desk phones as Jim guided Harold around,

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pointing out more associates.

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Eventually they came to the corner of the office

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where two doors stood.

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"On the left you'll find Sandra.

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Sandra." The wolf's ears flattened as he lowered his voice,

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hoping the cougar on the other side wouldn't hear.

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"I'd introduce you, but she's not feeling too friendly.

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friendly." Harold nodded slowly,

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a look of confusion on his brow.

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Pointing to the other door, Jim continued,

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"And on the right is Gene, our founder and boss.

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He'll introduce himself to you at the ceremony so let's continue the tour.

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tour." The wolf directed them around the corner

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into a large lunchroom.

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Along one wall stood a marble counter,

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various cabinets

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and a stainless steel fridge.

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Spread around the room were tables and booths,

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each with a pot of fake green tea plants, specially made because Gene heard green tea was good for digestion.

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"Here's my favourite place, the kitchen!"

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Jim's tail swished behind him.

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"Employees can keep their lunches safe in the fridge.

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fridge." His sly eyes looked the ursine up and down.

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A bear with a belly like Harold's must be eating well.

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What delicious delights might he bring for lunch?

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"Feel free to store your food in there, anytime.

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anytime." Harold smiled. "Good to know,

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I'm sure I'll take advantage of that.

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that." The two continued through the kitchen to another corner of the office.

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Shelves of electronics and cords covered the walls with a single desk separating them from the hallway.

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"If your computer isn't working or you need some equipment, Danny'll

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help you out here."

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Atop the coyote's desk sat three polyester bamboo shoots.

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The skills of the IT department were regarded by Gene

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as a form of techno-wizardry.

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Thus, when it came to picking a plant for Danny,

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he chose bamboo because he knew electronics came from Japan.

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Plus, he'd heard bamboo was lucky.

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Ushering Harold along,

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Jim showed off the various other office amenities: meeting rooms, bathrooms, printers,

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and the supply room ending the tour.

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Jim pushed open one of the frosted glass doors to reveal the lobby.

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Inside, all the employees from the floor gathered around a table in the middle.

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A pile of napkins, forks and Styrofoam plates

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sat on the table next to a plastic container of assorted cupcakes.

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A well-dressed badger stepped forward from the crowd

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and cleared his throat.

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"It's always my pleasure to welcome a new member to the Fake Ferns and Flora family.

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I've brought Harold on board to go over our processes and see what we can do to improve our efficiency.

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By streamlining how we conduct our business, I know we can go from number three to number two in the fake plant business!"

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A few people politely clapped.

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The badger stepped up to the bear. "Now Harold,

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I'm not sure if anyone informed you, but here at triple-F we take pride in our products.

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We all should feel connected to the fabulous plants we produce. So, for each employee,

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I pick out a plant to represent them.

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You may not see mine often

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as it's in my office, but I have a single stemmed rose.

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A diamond with petals it is the perfection of the floral world.

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The flower that all other flowers wish to be, a beacon of greatness to all, just as I am a model to all my employees.

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"I'm sure you're wondering what I've picked out for you, so here it is.

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is." Gene revealed a plastic, groomed

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bonsai tree. "Only a plant dedicated to such precision

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and the smallest detail could be given to the one who will be optimizing the way we do business

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and work together.

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together." The badger handed the pot to the bear

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and shook his free hand. "Just remember our motto:

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Our plants are plastic,

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but our quality is real!"

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"Thank you very much." Harold smiled shyly.

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"It will be a pleasant treat to work with you all." #

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TUESDAY Jim's belly

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rumbled with discontent.

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He glanced at his desk clock to see the numbers 11:43 staring back.

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Almost time for lunch.

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What delicacies would be available today?

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As Jim saved the document he was working on

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and stood up from his desk, he remembered Sandra nagging him to take Harold out for lunch.

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Sadly, this meant eating at the deli across the street.

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The wolf shuddered

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and put the thought behind him,

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instead turning and peering over the cubicle wall at his bruin co-worker.

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Harold sat happily chewing and working away,

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not noticing the silver furred muzzle poking over the wall.

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"Hey Harold." The wolf sniffed the air,

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scents of sugary sweetness tickling his nose.

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"It's about lunch time,

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you wanna grab a bite to eat?

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Company's paying."

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"Oh thanks, but no thanks. I've already eaten.

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eaten." Harold waved a sticky paw.

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Jim's eyes narrowed,

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picking out smudges of yellow and blue colouring in Harold's fur.

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The bear had eaten the leftover cupcakes from yesterday's ceremony.

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The wolf cursed under his breath.

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Damn, I was hoping to have those for an afternoon snack.

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"I should have invited you yesterday.

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My bad. How about tomorrow?"

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"Sounds like a plan.

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plan." Harold sucked each individual finger clean.

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Jim cringed at the sticky mess of coloured splotches on Harold's keyboard.

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He slowly lowered himself back down from the wall

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and flopped back into his chair,

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ears splayed. The bear probably just assumed the left-over cupcakes were for anyone.

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They were bought for his welcoming party after all.

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Jim grumbled about his loss

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while pulling a sandwich out of his bag.

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At least I forgot about taking him out to lunch and packed my own,

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he thought. "Hey, Jim!"

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The wolf looked up to see Danny smiling over him.

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The coyote munched on dried fruit slices and offered Jim a few from the plastic bag in his hand. "Want

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some dehydrated apple chips?

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I made them myself. They're

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great! Healthy, gluten-free, full of--" "Go away, Danny,"

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Jim mumbled into his sandwich. #

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WEDNESDAY The pressure of the middle of the week dragged on Jim.

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At least on Wednesdays Sandra brought the best food.

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Last week was a red wine beef brisket with cheese and bacon scalloped potatoes.

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Jim licked his lips,

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remembering the flavour.

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The week before that was a lovely chicken parmesan with a spicy chorizo carbonara on the side.

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The combination of spices and herbs still danced on Jim's tongue.

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He wasn't sure if the cougar was attending cooking classes on Tuesday night's

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or dating a young gourmet chef,

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but he wasn't complaining at the leftovers she brought for lunch. The 11:50 alarm on his clock told him that it was time to make his way to the kitchen.

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"Crap," Jim muttered to himself. I told Harold we'd do lunch today.

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Oh well, after Monday's meeting with cranky ol' Sandra, giving her a day to cool off isn't so bad.

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Still, it meant eating at the deli across the street.

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The wolf's fur bristled.

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At least it's free.

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Taking a few steps out of his cubicle, he rounded the wall with a cheerful, "Hey Harold! You hungry?"

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Jim's trademark toothy grin drooped

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as his nose picked up the scent

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of paprika and chilies.

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"Jim!" Harold exclaimed through a mouthful.

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He paused to swallow before continuing.

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"I'm sorry, I forgot about our plans.

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I guess I got so hungry that I decided on another early lunch."

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"I must say, your lunch smells delicious.

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What are you eating?"

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The wolf licked his lips

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looking over the bear's shoulder.

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"Oh this? Just one of grandma's old recipes.

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Simple pork and beans.

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Too bad I can't make it like she used to.

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to." Harold took another fork full.

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Digging his utensil into the microwave container,

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he stirred up the rice and refried beans.

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The pink plastic container overflowed with corn,

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pico de gallo, beans and rice.

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On top of it all rested shredded chorizo pork

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in a lovely mole glaze

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topped with queso fresco.

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"I didn't realize your grandmother was...Spanish? Mexican?"

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Jim leaned in closer,

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sniffing at the combination of spices and chocolate.

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He eyed the side of the container,

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making out the worn away

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letters on the side -

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Sandra Perkins. "Ah, well...

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well..." Harold's eyes danced between the food and the wolf.

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"She--she married into the family.

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family." The bear stared at Jim,

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chewing loudly, each bite raising the hackles on the wolf's fur.

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The sickening sloppy eater in front of him caused Jim's tail to twitch with each bite.

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Jim's eyes narrowed in on Harold.

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"I should let you get back to work.

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Enjoy your lunch.

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lunch." Harold gave a smug grin,

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turning back to shovel another mouthful,

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bits of rice and salsa falling on his keyboard.

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Jim trudged off, grumbling to himself.

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Maybe there'd be something left in the fridge to salvage.

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As long as the only thing in there wasn't Danny's.

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A shudder rippled down the fur on Jim's back.

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Stupid soy vegan fair-trade gluten-free dirt mush stuff.

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Turning the corner, a thought crept into his mind.

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He rapped on the door to HR.

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Jim's ears perked at the agitated sigh that followed before Sandra invited him inside.

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"Good day, Sandra," Jim greeted her

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as he closed the door behind him.

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"I would like to make a complaint.

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I believe Harold is eating your lunch.

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In fact, I saw him just now. Fork in hand,

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devouring what looked like a microwavable container sporting your name on the side.

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If you look right now, you can catch him in the act.

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act." A chuckle rumbled in the cougar's chest.

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"Oh, Jim. Jim, Jim, Jimmy, Jimbo, Jim. Well done.

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done." Sandra clapped her paws a few times. "You've out done yourself.

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After all these years, to think you'd stoop

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this low." The wolf's jaw dropped.

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Ear's splayed, he sputtered out, "S-s-stoop?"

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Sandra leaned forward,

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resting her elbows on the desk. "Do you honestly take me for a putz?

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Do you really think I don't know where the missing lunches have gone?

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That I don't know the mysterious bandit

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who continues to take them?"

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"It could be anyone.

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anyone." Jim loosened his tie and glanced around the room,

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avoiding eye contact.

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"Just because I haven't been able to prove it,

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doesn't mean I never figured it out.

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Sure, Gene has a mini fridge so he never has to deal with you.

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you." Sandra scrunched up her face

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and lowered her voice to a mocking tone.

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"Now, now, Sandra, it's just lunch.

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Our employees work hard. We all need to pitch in and help out wherever we can, even if that means sharing a sandwich now and then.

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then." Jim slipped a claw under his collar.

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"And now, you think you can just waltz in here,

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accusing the new hire of being the lunch thief?"

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Sandra's breathing deepened;

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her extended claws dug into the laminate covering of the desk.

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The fake fern trembled.

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"I'm already wise to your tricks, Grossman!"

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The cougar leaned over her desk,

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ears flat and fangs bared.

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"You march out of here right now

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before I make you run to the deli across the street and order me a new lunch.

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lunch." Jim gulped and nodded.

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Well that was an unexpected failure.

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Being forced to eat at the deli across the street was just the mustard on the cake for this horrible day. #

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The slimy sauerkraut and sharp mustard stuck with Jim for the rest of the day.

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No matter how long he gargled with water or tossed back cups of coffee,

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the disgusting taste of stale bread and limp deli meat would not leave his palette.

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Only once work ended could the lupine dash home

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and brush away the never-ending aftertaste of the deli across the street.

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After a rigorous dosage of mouthwash and questioning why there was only one restaurant within walking distance to the office,

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the sour notes finally faded away

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and Jim's fur started to settle into place.

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Frustrated from having to suffer through the last half of the work day,

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Jim decided it would be a 'Me

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-Time' evening. A quick call to his choice pizzeria,

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two frosty lagers from the fridge,

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sweatpants, and a quick pick through his DVD collection was what this night needed.

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"I am Hosea, destroyer of men." Jim imitated the gunslinging actor on screen, sloshing his bottle of beer as he pretended to shoot at all the bar patrons with the action hero. 'Muchachos'

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had always been one of his best-loved classic Western films,

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watching the young anti-hero from Mexico rise to infamy

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in a blaze of bullets.

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The doorbell barely managed to make a sound over the blaring fire fight on Jim's home theatre system.

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The lupine's ears still perked and picked it up,

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sending the slightly tipsy wolf dashing to the door,

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tail wagging behind him.

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A quick exchange of money

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and Jim's favourite double double deluxe pizza was in his paws:

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double the meat, double the cheese, double the sauce and all the fixings,

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also doubled. The scent of the meat trio,

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salami, ham, and pepperoni mixed with the melted mozzarella

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and marble cheese blend,

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all in combination with peppers, onions,

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mushrooms and olives galore.

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Jim's muzzle dripped with saliva before he could sink his teeth into the first piece.

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The thick slices of warm pizza

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brought a happy sigh to the wolf.

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Each piece packed with so much meat and toppings that it only took a few pieces

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before his belly was sated,

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easily leaving leftovers for lunch.

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Even Sandra's leftovers couldn't beat the best pizza ever to touch his tongue.

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Jim cracked open another beer

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and stretched out on his couch.

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I needed this. Tonight was a good night. #

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THURSDAY The lupine had a bounce in his step the next morning.

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Giving Megan a cheerful smile and a hello,

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he entered the office.

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Jim waved to Yelena

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and asked how her cubs were doing.

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After a brisk walk to drop off his leftover pizza in the office fridge,

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he returned to his desk with a fresh cup of hazelnut coffee.

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Setting the mug down next to his colourful snapdragons,

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Jim went straight to work.

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Jim's morning slipped by in a flash.

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Only his alarm clock with its usual 11:50 buzzer

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broke him out of his work daze.

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Leaning back in his chair with an accomplished sigh,

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he smiled. Lunch sounds great about now.

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Rolling his chair away from his desk, Jim stood and stretched.

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He yawned and took in the scents of the office.

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The usual smell of dust,

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recycled air, coffee, paper and his regular co-workers' deodorant slipped through his nose.

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The lupine grinned at the absence of any smells of food

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and walked past Harold's cubicle.

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His ears fell when he found only an empty seat.

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The wolf rushed to the kitchen,

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throwing open the stainless steel refrigerator.

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His eyes darted around the empty shelves.

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Only one item sat alone in the barren fridge -

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Danny's see-through container with tofurkey curry on brown whole grain rice

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and home-made plain yogurt.

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No. He shook his head.

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No, no, no. Where did it all go?

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The sound of lips smacking

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perked the wolf's ears.

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Jim closed the fridge door

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and turned slowly.

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A scent of grease

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and bread directed his gaze over to one of the booths.

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His tail swayed lazily

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as he approached the table.

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A chestnut-brown hulk of fur turned to see him and smiled.

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"Oh, hi Jim!" "Harold.

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"Harold." Jim growled through his teeth.

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"How's your day going?"

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The bear talked with his mouth full,

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smacking his gums as he ate.

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Tomato sauce drizzled down Harold's cheek.

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In front of him sat empty and discarded lunch containers.

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"I was hoping some lunch would help get me through the day.

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day." Jim ground his molars,

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glaring at the noisy eater.

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Harold finished his food,

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tossing the left over pizza crust into a container with the others.

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After letting out a small, obnoxious burp,

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he nudged the container closer to Jim.

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"Would you like some leftover bread sticks?

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I just had a delicious Italian feast.

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feast." Jim's eye twitched

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as he wrapped his hands around the container,

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claws digging into the plastic sides.

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He tried to reply but a low rumble from his chest was all he could muster.

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"I did save some room for dessert though.

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though." Harold pushed the potted green tea plant out of the way

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and pulled a bright purple container closer.

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Popping off the top,

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Harold took a handful of the homemade sugar cookies with buttercream frosting from within

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and crammed them into his mouth.

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"Grandma makes such tasty treats,"

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he said through a muffled muzzle.

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"That's--those are Yelena's!"

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Jim gasped, releasing his grip on the food container and letting it fall to the floor with a clatter, spilling discarded pizza crusts

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across the tile. "She-

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-her cubs--they baked those.

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They make them every Wednesday night so she can deliver them to Gran-Gran in the home when she visits each Thursday after work! Even I wouldn't stoop so low as to steal Gran-Gran's cookies. They're all she has left to get

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her through the terrible meals of stewed prunes and mushy peas they serve each week."

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"Are they?" Harold paused for a moment,

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glancing down at the last two remaining cookies with their pink and blue pastel frosting.

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"Are you sure? These taste just like the ones my grandma makes.

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Let me check." A wicked grin slid up Harold's muzzle

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as he took the remaining cookies in his paws

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and stacked them on top of each other.

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Opening wide, he shoved the baked treats into his cheeks

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and chewed. Jim watched in horror,

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frozen as the bear half-chewed his food

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and struggled to swallow the cookies whole.

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A streak of pain crossed the bear's face before he relaxed

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and sighed. Harold leaned back and patted his round belly.

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"You know, you might be right.

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I don't know if those were my cookies.

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I may have grabbed the wrong container by mistake.

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My deepest apologies to Yelena.

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Yelena." Jim slammed his fists on the table.

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"You can't keep doing this!"

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"Oh?" Harold's ears flicked,

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he gestured with a meaty paw for the wolf to sit across from him.

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"And why not?" Jim's ears fell flat

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as he looked around the room to make sure they were alone.

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He slid into the seat across from the bear.

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"You've already eaten everything in the fridge today.

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Well, everything edible.

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Once everyone comes in here for lunch and sees you sitting here with all those empty containers,

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they'll have your head.

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head." Harold leaned forward,

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showing off another toothy smile

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with bits of spinach and peppers stuck between his teeth.

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"Word around the office is that the lunch bandit is none other than our prized sales manager, Jim Grossman.

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They're not angry at the new friendly process manager who's been hired to make their jobs easier.

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No, they're ready to tear apart the one who's been here the whole time,

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taking their delicious meals

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and forcing them to suffer on the sorry excuse for food

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that is the deli across the street.

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street." A low grumble stirred in Jim's throat,

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his tail thumping against the booth

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seat. "Fine, you want to know why?

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You can't keep this up.

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If everyone's lunch continues to go missing and eaten,

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they'll no longer bring food.

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They'll keep it in their desks, safe and secure.

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Once that happens,

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no one wins. Neither I nor you."

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"The way I look at it,

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if I remove the one who's been stealing food,

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then all those lunches he was going to eat

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will now be mine.

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mine." The wolf's ears perked.

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"You--you wouldn't dare."

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"It's already begun.

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Have a good lunch, Jim.

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Jim." The bear strolled out of the kitchen.

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Jim's eye twitched.

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His shoulders rose and fell as he huffed.

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That pompous, wretched ursine.

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If he thinks-- "Jim!"

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A screech snapped the wolf out of his train of thought.

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He looked up to see Yelena standing horrified over him.

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The lioness clutched her face in shock

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at the empty containers scattered about the table. "How-

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-how could you?

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Gran-Gran's cookies...

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cookies..." Tears fell down the lioness's cheeks as she picked up the empty purple container.

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Turning it upside down,

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she watched a few loose crumbs trickle out.

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"No!" The wolf's hands shot up.

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"I love Gran-Gran. I'd never eat her cookies."

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"What's going on here?"

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The other associates were already filing into the lunch room for their break.

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Noticing the scene at the booth, they came over to investigate,

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only to find themselves also victims.

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"Hey, that was my lunch!"

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"Wow, Jim, this is a new low!"

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"You know, we've been putting up with this for a while, but this is ridiculous.

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ridiculous." Jim's head zipped between angry co-workers,

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each one staring him down with disapproval and disgust.

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The lupine slid out of the booth and pushed past them,

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dashing out into the hallway, yelling, "It wasn't me! I didn't do it!"

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The mob chased after him,

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hungry for revenge and calling him out for crimes against their leftovers.

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The kitchen emptied faster than it filled,

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the lunch containers left alone on the table.

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Danny walked in and looked around,

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wondering where everyone was.

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With a shrug, he walked over to the fridge,

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opened it, and pulled out his container.

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"Yes! Lunchtime!" # Jim sulked the whole trip home.

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His day had gone from great to horrible in a matter of minutes

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thanks to that conniving bear.

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Not only did everyone at the office accuse him wrongfully,

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they glared at him for the rest of the afternoon.

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Even after forcing him to buy them all sandwiches from across the street.

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Sure the food was as terrible,

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but they could at least have been grateful for his generosity.

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Cellphone tucked between his head and shoulder,

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Jim ordered another of his favourite pizzas while searching the fridge for any beer.

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Finding none, the defeated lupine grabbed a couple of cans of cola

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and flopped onto his couch, waiting for the delivery boy.

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"No good, dirty-handed, scoundrel, scum bear.

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bear." Jim muttered to himself between sips of his soda.

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He brooded as he slid a classic spaghetti Western into his media player.

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The on-screen sheriff displayed his shiny badge with pride.

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He called out to the bandits causing a ruckus in the street,

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"You think you can come into my town and cause trouble?"

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Jim's eye's narrowed at the screen,

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his tail wagging slow.

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"Yeah, you think you can come into my office and cause trouble, Harold?"

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The two characters stared each other down.

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The villain pulled away his coat,

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revealing a shiny six-shooter strapped to his side.

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"I think it's too late for that, Sheriff.

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Sheriff." Jim watched intently,

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replaying the scene from lunch in his head.

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Harold challenging his rule over the kitchen.

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The camera zoomed in on the short badger with the sheriff's badge.

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He snarled, "This town ain't big enough for the both of us."

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"This office ain't big enough for the both of us.

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us." The wolf repeated,

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picturing the bear standing in front of him,

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mocking him with that dumb grin.

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Jim spat at Harold's feet.

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The wad of spit hit his carpet with a splat.

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The duo on screen

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dared each other to move,

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eyes never straying.

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The sun watched from up high

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as furry digits dangled beside firearms.

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The town chapel began to chime the hour with a solemn bell toll,

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each strike of the bell rising the tension higher

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and higher. The clock struck again

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nine, ten, eleven.

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On the twelfth and final chime,

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the desperado and the sheriff drew with lightning speed, firing off shots,

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and rolling for cover.

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"That's it!" Jim sprang up,

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his cola spilling

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and mixing with his spent saliva.

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When the pizza boy arrived, Jim asked, "Hey, kid,

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how would you like to make a

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big tip?" # FRIDAY The entire office glared every time they passed Jim's empty cubicle,

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unsure if they were happy the lunch bandit didn't show today

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or angry since they wanted to ream him out more.

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The clock was ticking closer to the noon hour.

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Megan sat by her desk, silk daffodils beside her looking the same as always.

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When the door to reception opened, Megan cheerfully called out,

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"Good morning and welcome to Fa-

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-" The vixen stopped mid-sentence, looking up at the wolf who just entered.

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"Jim?" "Hi Megan," Jim waved at her from behind a pair of large aviator shades.

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The wolf stood in the middle of the lobby,

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a plastic rifle slung over his shoulder.

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A quick rummage through the office supply closet

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and the wolf added to his arsenal a pair of staplers, hooked to his belt,

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and a set of packing tape dispensers peeking out of his pockets.

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Jim stepped into the office

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and looked around.

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Everyone turned, the lupine scent filling the room

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and twitching their noses.

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The door at the end of the room swung open

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and Sandra stepped out.

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"Jim! Where have you been?

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And what are you doing?"

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"Jim?" The wolf sneered. His voice changed to a fake Mexican accent.

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"There is no Jim. I am Hosea,

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destroyer of bears.

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bears." Before the cougar could offer a rebuttal,

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the lumbering head of a brown bear rose up over Harold's cubicle wall.

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The ursine pulled out his own pair of black tinted aviators

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and slid them over his eyes.

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"I knew you would come."

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"Then you're prepared to die.

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die." Jim slid the action on the toy rifle back,

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the weapon making a resounding click as the elastic inside primed the foam dart in its chamber.

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Harold stepped out from his cubicle,

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brandishing a pair of plastic squeaky revolvers,

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primed and ready to fire their own pair of

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foam darts. "Wait, what?"

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Jim's voice snapped back to normal.

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He pushed his shades down his muzzle so he could glance at the fake weapons in the bear's paws.

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"You...actually have been carrying around a pair of toy guns this entire time?"

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Harold shrugged. "You'd be surprised how often this happens to me.

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me." The wolf blinked

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and then shrugged, pushing his shades back up.

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"Then it's come to this.

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this." The two stood tall, unwavering.

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Jim's desk clock

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blinked from 11:49 to 11:50, setting off the alarm and crying out a series of buzzing.

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One. Two. Three. As the buzzes continued, the two co-workers glared at each other.

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Four. Five. Six. The rest of the office watched with a hush.

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Seven. Eight. Nine.

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Twitchy fingers slid against bright coloured triggers.

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Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

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The wolf squeezed his trigger;

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the bear's grip tightened.

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Both gunfighters fired.

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Foam darts whistled through the air.

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Harold ducked behind a fake birch to dodge one;

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Jim rolled into his cubicle as another two flew by.

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"You'll never make it!"

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Jim shouted. Popping up to fire another dart.

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"The people will know the truth about your deeds today!"

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Harold dived into a nearby cubicle and

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away from the neon orange flying foam,

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toppling over the birch in the process.

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He then jumped up

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and fired two shots over the cubicle wall.

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"The truth will only hurt you as well!"

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"Justice is cruel but must be served,"

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grunted Jim. "What are you two doing?"

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screamed Sandra. The cougar ran to the office beside hers,

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banging on the door.

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"This is ridiculous!

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I'm getting Gene.

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Gene." Jim fired another dart but the bear was too entrenched behind cover to get a good shot.

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Setting his rifle aside,

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he pulled out the tape dispensers.

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He let two long strips of packing tape reel out before cutting them off.

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Taking the strips,

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he rolled them into their own individual tape balls, sticky side out.

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The wolf's ear twitched at any sound

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as he peered over his cubicle wall.

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The snap of another shot sent Jim ducking.

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He glanced up to see a yellow foam dart arc over the wall

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and stick to his computer screen with a satisfying thwak.

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Now was his chance.

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He peeked over the wall and let his tape balls fly.

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The volley spun through the air and disappeared into Harold's hideout-cubicle.

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A cry of pain cut through the air.

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"Gah, No!" Harold rolled out from his desk into the main office,

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his arm flailing, trying to shake off the two tape balls stuck to his fur.

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The window of attack wide open,

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Jim leaped from the cover of his desk and fired another dart.

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The whistling orange streak pierced the air

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and struck Harold's shoulder.

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The bear wailed at the hit

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and fired in retaliation.

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"What is going on here?"

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A voice boomed behind them.

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The duo twisted around to see Gene staring in disbelief,

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Sandra smugly standing behind him,

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arms crossed and tail swinging back and forth. "It's...

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"It's...uh-uh." Jim stammered, looking for an answer. "Uh-

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-A team building exercise.

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exercise." Harold picked up where the wolf left off.

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The badger blinked.

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"Oh!" His ears perked, and he smiled.

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"Great work you two. I'm glad you have your priorities straight.

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Continue." Gene turned and headed back to his office.

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"Wait! What?" Sandra screeched.

and again:

Silence swept over the room

and again:

as the bear and wolf glanced around,

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their co-workers urging them to finish the fight.

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"You can take my lunch when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.

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hands." Jim dropped his rifle

and again:

and whisked his arms up from his sides, snagging the staplers in his paws.

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Pointing them at the ursine,

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he squeezed them one after the other, strafing the bear

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and firing staple after staple into his thick brown coat. "Argh!"

and again:

Harold cried out in agony.

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He swatted at the incoming barrage of metal fasteners but was unable to stop their attack.

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"Okay, okay! You got me.

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me." The bear dropped his plastic guns and clutched at his chest.

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"I want the truth.

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truth." Jim nudged the bear with a stapler.

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"Tell our audience what you did yesterday. Loud and clear.

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clear." Harold grimaced. Only when Jim fired off another barrage of thin silver pieces did he conceded. "Alright, stop!

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I did it! I ate everyone's lunches.

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lunches." A gasp echoed amongst the crowd.

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"Even...Gran-Gran's cookies.

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cookies." Yelena let out a wail,

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mourning the memory of the sugary, handmade treats.

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Harold sneered at Jim.

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"But my confession doesn't make up for the months,

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years even, of stolen lunches before I arrived.

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Defeating me does nothing.

and again:

nothing." The bear erupted into maniacal laughter that turned into coughing until he collapsed on the floor,

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feigning death. Jim nodded,

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turning to face his officemates.

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"He's right. I've wronged you all.

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I've taken your precious food without asking. It was shameful of me.

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I don't deserve to be your sales manager.

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All I can do is ask for forgiveness.

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forgiveness." He tossed the staplers to the side,

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kneeling before them with his head bowed.

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The lobby doors opened and Megan poked her head through.

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She blinked confused at the sorry sight of the office,

and again:

scattered foam darts everywhere.

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"Jim? Zippy's Pizzeria is here.

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They said you paid extra to have them deliver all the way out here?"

and again:

"I offer a pizza party for everyone!" shouted Jim.

and again:

His co-workers burst out in a cheer. "I can't

and again:

believe all of you!"

and again:

Sandra's screeching voice returned,

and again:

leaving Gene's office.

and again:

"Jim steals our lunches for months, has a ridiculous, disruptive, childish play fight in the middle of the office, and then you forget it all just because he buys you all pizza?"

and again:

The office workers looked at one another

and again:

then back to cougar.

and again:

Andrew stepped forward, replying,

and again:

"At least it makes a dull job entertaining?"

and again:

Sandra tugged her ears and twitched.

and again:

"That's it! I quit!"

and again:

She threw her hands in the air.

and again:

Tail lashing behind her,

and again:

she stomped past the group

and again:

and out of the room.

and again:

The door to Gene's office opened and the badger poked his head out.

and again:

"What's all the yelling out here?"

and again:

"Sandra quit." Jim answered.

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"I'm going to miss eating her lunches," sighed Harold.

and again:

"I know, right?" Jim nodded in agreement.

and again:

"Oh, well, she was just a fern anyways.

and again:

anyways." The boss stepped out from his office.

and again:

"I heard something about a pizza party?

and again:

Sounds like a great way to end a team-building exercise."

and again:

"Wait, she's a fern?"

and again:

The wolf tilted his head.

and again:

"That's the plant I picked for her." Gene waved

and again:

a paw in the air. "They're

and again:

boring, simple, and easy to replace.

and again:

replace." Danny peaked his head around the corner into the room.

and again:

"Hey, there's a pizza party going on?

and again:

Any vegan options?"

and again:

Jim glared at the coyote.

and again:

"Get lost, Danny."This was

and again:

“Food, Feuds and Fake Flora”

and again:

by Ocean Tigrox,

and again:

read for you by Khaki,

and again:

your faithful fireside companion.

and again:

Thank you for listening

and again:

to The Voice of Dog

About the Podcast

Show artwork for The Voice of Dog
The Voice of Dog
Furry stories to warm the ol' cockles, read by Rob MacWolf and guests. If you have a story that would suit the show, you can get in touch with @VoiceOfDog@meow.social on Mastodon, @voiceofdog.bsky.social on Blue Sky, or @Theodwulf on Telegram.

About your host

Profile picture for Khaki

Khaki