The Journey To HR, Part 104!

I woke up.

I was lying in a bed.

My bed? Not sure.

I sat up and looked around.

The room looked familiar, yet it wasn’t.

Then I noticed a lump under the covers at the end of the bed.

It moved.

I was ready to jump off the bed when the covers came off and Bob sat up.

“Wow,” I said. “You won’t believe the dream I had.”

“Oh, Stephen…” said Bob as he stretched.

“No, listen, it was so real! I went to our crazy HR!”

“HR?” Bob asked.

“Yeah, HR. Nothing made sense in this place. I had to poop in a box, there was lots of violence and blood and lots and lots of time travel with this floating…thing that kept bonking me on the head!”

“Okay, that settles it. No more Plexaderm laced beer before you go to bed.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

I stretched again.

Bob burrowed underneath the covers.

“And they cut off your arms and legs and replaced them with Lincoln Logs,” I said as I prepared to jump out of the bed to start the new day.

The covers came off of Bob again.

He was holding a large bucket.

He took off the top, reached in and pulled out a large mass of paste which he shoved into his mouth.

He looked over at me and gave me a wide, paste-smeared smile.

“You’re nothing but a clumsy, dimwitted, filthy, stupid, poop-eating bastard!” he yelled.

And then there was more of that whooshing sound.