Morning Spam

[Undiscussed Past Horrific Abuse, One Victim Of Many]

Intern: "You've reached BossCorp Research Project Technical Support! Are you a safe distance away from any wormholes spewing zombies?"

Caller: "As far as I can tell!"

Intern: "What seems to be the problem?"

Caller: "Well, ever since Boss did whatever he did, my front porch has been invisible from the West, so I've traveled around the North side in order to enter my home, since I don't see a way in from the West."

Intern: "Yes ...?"

Caller: "Well, this morning something strange burst out of the ground spewing little fat old men smoking cigars everywhere, and your people came down and cordoned off the area, but now I can't get to the North side of where my porch used to be without crossing the barrier, and just between you and me I tried it but omigod is that little fat old man a rude asshole --"

Intern: "This call is recorded to ensure the quality of your service."

Caller: "How do I get into my home with the North stairs cordoned off and the East stairs invisible?"

Intern: "I've heard this could mean the geographical coordinates of your porch might have some importance in the struggle between Boss and the Experimentees, like your address is Boss's wife's phone number or something."

Caller: "What can I do?"

Intern: "I'll see if there are any confused telepathic zombies in the area who can help guide you up your East steps."

Caller: "Thank you, Well-Respected Psionic Weaponry Corporation!"

Intern: "Our pleasure!"
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