There was a new guy on the block. That was our first impression.
We'd been there for weeks now: many of us for months. Circles upon circles of desks, each congregating towards an inner ring. As usual, the Big Four were closest to the largest desk in the room. Then there was the rest of us.
The new guy took a desk opposite me, and smiled.
"How do. I'm Mr. Le Fete. I take it you're a writer too?" he tipped his hat, then put it down on his desk as the door slammed shut: sending us back into darkness.
"Best be careful sir. Mark doesn't like it when we talk about inappropriate things,"
Le Fete gave me a single questioning look, then read the only decoration I had on my desk: a nametag. Behind me was an inbox filled with old envelopes which remained unopened. In front of me lay a dormant phone: maybe a picture or two of loved ones decorating the screen.
"What the hell do we do in this place MC?" Le Fete asked me. But his question was answered as Mark entered the room. The room seemed to swell with his presence. Everybody stopped talking and paid instant attention.
"Mr Le Fete. Please take a seat and prepare for the previous 500 copies of every single newspaper in the world. You have half an hour. Write me something funny!"
-credits go to Jean LeFete. More info on the Discussion Forum.