Power Shuffle

When our narrator left yesterday, he had recieved a microfiche containing several important documents of correspondence. The sheer annoyance of such a trifling concern led him close to the brink of madness, so he quickly responded by delegating the authority to the superior rold-gold pretzel consuming giant in the corner.

The giant is currently considered a superior of sorts, as his commitement to the work force is extraordinary. In order to approach his employment with the clearest of minds, the giant has a series of perfectly engineered breaks that ensure he will be operating at full form. These breaks include, but are not limited to half-hour walks around the building, a brief dash downstairs to obtain rold-gold pretzels and a diet coke (approximately 9:23 every morning), hour walks around the building, and the infamous -where-the-hell-has-the-giant-been-i-havent-seen-him-since-this-morning.

It should be noted at this point that despite the giants sincere dedication to the business, that he has at least one unpleasant drawback. The giant has a musky scent which follows him and fills his tiny cave with the fragrant medley of feces and chip-based-junk-food. In a failing effort to combat this mild detractment, those around him are accostomed to burning candles (and sometimes incense, whilst chanting out of obscure religious texts).

Our Humble Observer has recently employed another defense, the closing of his door to prevent such stenches and otherwise bothersome interruptions from the giant, who has recently sensed that due to the overwhelming response from this plucky young lad's interview yesterday that he may not be "King of the Jungle" much longer. While our narrator is anything but power-hungry, the giant is nonetheless threatened by the emergence of a new alpha male, and has responded by delegating menial transcription tapes. He returned the tape just a few hours later, having filled in the address and beginning a paragraph of noteworthy correspondence, obviously doing the equivelant of peeing on a fire hydrant.

Never fear, the plucky young lad responded swiftly and within moments had finished the tape. His reward:

Another microfiche. The giant has won this round and celebrated with a can of slim fast.

recent news: he has breeched the door and attacked the nearby air folicles with overwheming scents of pasteurized and dehydrated cheese. The giant fights dirty, there is no doubt.