Crossbows come out.

“Stephens! What’s your status?”

“I’m pinned down, boss. Only 2 out of 8 darts remaining. Accounts Payable has my cubicle completely surrounded.”

“What about Wilder? Alcorn?”

“They’re out, sir. Suction cups straight to the dome for the both of them.”

“CURSE AND DRAT. What about the Ceremonial Stapler?”

“Secured, sir.”

“Excellent work, my boy. Now don’t panic. Help is on the way. We’ve made an alliance with the guys in IT and they should be moving into flanking position at any moment.”

“I’m… I’m scared, boss.”

“We’re all scared, Stephens. I have faith in you, though. You’re a helluva shot with that Supa Sukka crossbow. I’ve seen your groupings during target practice. Just make sure you protect that Ceremonial Stapler with everything you’ve got. If this department loses out to those eggheads, we’ll never hear the end of…”

ATTENTION, EVERYONE. OUR SERVER ISSUES HAVE BEEN FIXED. PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR DESKS. THANK YOU.

“We won? WE WON! Oh, thank goodness, I can finally stand…”

“STEPHENS, NO! IT’S A TRAP!”

SPAPP!

“GAH! Damn those treacherous traitors in IT! Damn them to hell!”

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