c. Stabs the receptionist with his pen and leaves
The man wastes no time in taking his pen and stabbing it in the receptionist’s face, square in her nose. At this point his stabbing is entirely compulsive. There is no blood, however the woman releases a horrifying scream that rivals the Uber driver’s, and begins to run out the front door. She gets about ten feet out the door before a pink bat covered in black paint swoops down and picks the receptionist up, flying to another realm with her to use as furniture.
There is nothing else the man needs to do at the factory at this point, considering the fact that once the receptionist has left the building, all other workers must leave as well. The factory floor manager and many workers flood out of the building past the man.
Don’t go out there! You’ll be taken by hell birds and used as furniture!
The man isn’t even sure how he knows this, but regardless his warning goes ignored by all of the workers, and he ends up watching as each employee gets picked up by a bird out the front door, not seeming to fight. Perhaps, the man figures, that these people have given up the fight for life when all they have to look forward to is another horrible day at the oatmeal factory. There is nothing else to look forward to, is there?
Feeling defeated, the man walks home and decides that with everyone at the factory to be used as bird furniture, he is now without a job. Amazingly, none of the birds pick him up and whisk him away to the unknown horrors his coworkers face. No matter.
INT. SHITTY HOME KITCHEN – MORNING
What does an unemployed man do? Well, he wants to enjoy a meal that isn’t oatmeal, for one. And so he opens the pantry door in his kitchen and pulls out a can of Campbell’s tomato soup. He grins wide for the first time since he can remember, and it hurts. His cheek muscles had atrophied, but were finally used to fight gravity again.
The man stares at the can of soup, which is covered in a thick layer of dust that’s gathered for the three years since the man got the job at Oatmeal, Inc. He misses the taste of food that isn’t oatmeal, and now he’s free to taste it, basting his taste buds with sensations they have unconsciously longed to experience once more. He opens the can with a can opener, only to find that inside of the can there is no soup. There is only a hollow dark space where soup should sit.
The man is filled with a variety of emotions as they hit simultaneously: pain, fear, disgust, hatred. Overwhelmed, the man takes his pen, his trusty friend, and jabs himself in the eye with it. He digs in deep to ensure that it hits his brain, twisting and turning it a few times to drive it further. The lights go out, and he collapses on the floor, facing the empty soup can, a reflection of his lack of purpose in life, and his endless disappointment. It’s better this way, even if he doesn’t even manage to make it to Day Two.
Want something different? Go back to page 1, cretin.