Exquisite Corpse Story: “I’m the Boss That’s Why,” by Sarah, David, Christopher, John, and Anna

On some mornings the coffee had a distinct iron-like taste to it - too much like blood, a little like tinfoil. Maybe it was just her imagination because she knows the reason for its taste, but has anyone else in the office noticed? She smiled while she filled her bosses ‘I’m the Boss, That’s Why’ coffee cup then placed it on his desk in front of him. She smiled again, a warm June Clever morning smile as he grabbed the cup and slurped the black liquid down. She has been smiling a lot lately. She hoped that the ferrous swill would throttle back his apathy circuits. Perhaps today he would fix the damned water softener she thought to herself. [She] checked the filter and, sure enough, [she] found a bloody finger wrapped in foil. Nausea and shock - but Stan had said he was going to wait - she thought. Was this his doing? Had he seemed nervous in the elevator? Yes, he had, she realized. Did Stan know what was going on? What was he hiding? There seem to be two plots happening at once. Where did that finger come from? She became nervous knowing that this would only bring attention to her unrelated deviant office scheme, which she was excited to finally implement. Her mind raced as she shook the rain off her scarlet Prada raincoat and climbed the wet stairs to her third floor walkup. As she reached the top step she froze. There was a package resting in front of her apartment door. She hesitated as she leaned over the package to see who had sent the brown paper box. Nothing was written.

Participants:
(via Facebook)