A/N: I do not own either the Office (NBC) or Adventure Time (CN).
What can I say? I like Adventure Time, I like the Office, so there you go. However you don't have to watch the Office to get what is going on, but for those who have I hope my altered, cartoon-ish version is satisfying enough. Feedback is welcomed and in fact, encouraged! Anything you did/didn't like? People who you think shouldn't been someone else? Am I funny? (PleasetellmeIwasfunny.)
Friday morning started like any other day at Gunter-Lincoln Paper Company.
Marshall Lee King, a twenty-something-year-old-looking vampire, shuffled his way into work with sleepy eyes and a lunch pouch filled only with the essentials: a red apple, red Jell-O, and a handful of ruby-red strawberries.
He had almost forgotten it was the end of the work week, but that wasn't why he had a particularly happy grin on his face when the elevator door opened to the third floor. His weekends weren't as extraordinary as they used to be – he was getting too old to be pulling pranks on childlike Candy Villagers and innocent strangers. (Those would be left specifically for his coworkers.)
No, the real reason why he was happy lay just behind the glass door, usually perched at the receptionist desk with blonde hair and a blue cardigan that matched her eyes. Friday was just like any other day of the week to him, but it was also another day he got to spend gazing at her.
However, when Marshall Lee walked into the office that morning, she was nowhere to be found. Instead, cameras and men in dirty jeans and flannel shirts walked around, setting up lights and talking briskly to one another. Then his state of confusion was slapped away when he suddenly remembered: Oh, yeah. The film crew's here.
Gunter-Lincoln was a proud paper company - at least, as proud as a company that sells paper and other paper-holding/filing products can be. They were proud of their employees and their hard work, at least that's what they told them. And with all of the exciting documentary shows about hoarders and real-life fishermen, the only thing that could possibly be more exciting would have be a documentary about random, everyday Ooo citizens selling paper and spreading office gossip. How enthralling.
"Hey, there," one of the men said, walking up to him. He looked about forty, maybe even fifty. Shouldn't this guy being doing other things than filming office workers, like accounting or something? "You work here right?"
I'm beginning to reconsider it. Against his better judgment, he nodded.
"Yeah, I'm Marshall Lee King. I'm a salesman."
"Okay, cool. Where do you sit?" He pointed. "Awesome. We'll get you some mics get up. Carl over there's going to hook you up. We should be getting started in a few."
"A few" turned out to be three hours. Apparently, with all of the pride Gunter-Lincoln had with its employees, they certainly risked a rather large chunk of their time and money to spend on setting up alone. And to make matters worse, she hadn't even shown up yet and he was starting to get grouchy.
"Alright, everybody. Show's almost on the road!" Standing at the front of the office floor was Hunson Abadeer, the Night-O-Sphere's branch Regional Manager. He was only a little bit taller than Marshall, and had no neck. With beady eyes and slicked-back hair, the former King of the Night-O-Sphere is now reduced to nothing more than a paper company manager.
That was probably because Hunson Abadeer was quite honestly an idiot. He could be totally merciless in his killings, and at times prefer pain to pleasure, but when it came to doing anything leadership-wise, he was a moron.
"Okay, everybody meet in the conference room for a quick recap and then we can get this party started!"
Cue eye roll.
Just as everybody was filling in, a familiar sweep of hair caught the corner of his eye. "Hey," Fionna said, avoiding Hunson's gaze as she sat down next to Marshall Lee.
"Hey, yourself," he said.
"Did I miss anything important?"
"Nah. Just getting sound checks done. They might give you a mic later."
"Jeesh, it really is busy out there, huh?" She gave a quick sweep of the room behind the window. "What if I just don't get a mic?"
"Then I don't think they'll pick up on it."
"Hardy-har-har."
"Alrighty then, folks!" Hunson announced. "Today is the big day. Gunter-Lincoln and Ooo Broadcasting Company have partnered together to give our company and viewers alike to see what it is really like in this office – "
"I really don't think that's such a good idea," Marshall Lee whispered to Fionna. She giggled quietly.
"I know Simone has already given you guys paperwork and all that junk, but I feel like it would be super cool if we could introduce ourselves to these camera guys!"
The group of quiet, busy crew members paused, looking at one other in bewilderment. "I, uh, I really don't think that'll be necessary," said one, who appeared to be the leader of the camera crew.
"Oh, nonsense, get in here guys! Introduce yourselves!"
When they hesitated, a very dark look overcame Hunson's face. His body was facing the crowd of employees, but his head very slowly turned to face them with a paralyzed, toothy grin on his face. Marshall Lee wasn't sure what his face was showing, oozing out, or waving about, but the camera crew very noisily and quickly moved into the front of the conference room.
"Well, uh. I'm Doug, and this is Chris, Carter, Carl, and Olive." Only the young girl waved.
"Well, this is Gunter-Lincoln!" Hunson said loudly. "We have sales with Marshall Lee, LSP, Cake, and Lemongrab. Accounting is Cinnamon Bun, Phoebe Furnius, and Bartleby Gumball. Marceline over there works with suppliers relations, Bonnibel Peebles is our customer service representative, Shelby, uh – what is it that you do again?"
"Quabitty Ashwoods."
"Ah, right. Well, I think that's everyone!"
"We know," said Doug, a little bit frustrated. "We met them already to get them set up."
"Wait, uh," Fionna spoke up, pointing beside her. "You forgot Peppermint Butler."
The peppermint candy, who was dressed very sharply, stood up on his seat. "Oh, yes, I – "
"Nobody cares!" Hunson nearly snaps, icky saliva splattering. Those who were unfortunate enough to sit in the front row received the worst of it.
"He's just our H.R. We don't even need to mic him, honestly…"
"Contract says every employee here needs to be, Mr. Abadeer." Hunson began to frown and snap at them to "leave already" in one of his famous huffy moods, when Doug pointed in the crowd. "Except her, I think we've got everyone. Ma'am, who are you?"
"Me?" Fionna asked.
"No, he was obviously calling me ma'am," Marshall Lee muttered. She didn't have to look at him for Marshall to know she didn't find that at all funny. Okay, well…maybe a little.
"I'm Fionna. I'm the receptionist."
"Alright, well, after the meeting we can set you up."
Beside him, Fionna nodded.
The group of cameramen stood there awkwardly for a moment before Doug finally said,"We, uh, we'll see you guys soon, then." Then they left as fast as they came in.
"Alright, guys, it's game time!" Hunson then preceded to fist bump the air, which awkwardly led a few of the older people to do it until they saw everyone else stare at them. Phoebe shook her head with a poised eyebrow.
The cameras, lights, and mics were all positioned and ready to go. Unfortunately, Marshall Lee didn't realize that they would actually be carrying the camera with them, so they could follow them wherever they went. It was kind of creepy, and for a thousand-year-old vampire to say that, that obviously meant something.
"I think they gave me a really crappy one," Fionna muttered as she tugged against the wires.
"Well, that's what you get when you show up three hours late," Marshall teased.
"It wasn't even my fault." Fionna frowned at her desk. "Finn was taking forever to get ready this morning."
Ah, of course. Finn.
"Marshall Lee?" Swiveling his head, he almost knocked his forehead into the lenses of one of the cameras. Hissing at it, the camera girl cast a nervous glance at him before following the other crew members into the break room.
Standing just outside his door, Hunson waved him inside his office. Turning back around, Marshall mouthed, "Save me."
Fionna giggled after him; almost making up for the morning he spent alone like a loser.
Marshall wasn't sure what to make of the creature in front of him. It was common knowledge that Hunson Abadeer was incredibly deadly and obviously not mentally stable. Why the council decided to kick him to curb and find a "real job" was beyond him, but honestly, he could care less. As long as he didn't do one of his weird things in front of him, they were on good terms. Vampires don't usually pick on other vampires for no reason at all. Then again, Hunson Abadeer is a very special case.
"Alright, Marshall Lee," Hunson said, riffling through some papers on his desk, "your quarterlies look very good. How're things going at the library?"
"Oh, uh, I told you about those. I couldn't close it, so…" He shrugged.
"So… You've come to the master for guidance? Is this what you are saying, Gumdrop?" Hunson was looking at a space behind his shoulder, and it took a second before he remembered.
Oh yeah. Camera show.
"Uh, actually… You called me into here. But yeah…"
Camera show ruined.
But never fear, for Hunson Abadeer is never discouraged. "Alright, well, let me show you how it's done."
Picking up the phone, he plugged in a few numbers with his clawed, discolored hand. "Yes I'd like to speak to your office manager, please… Yes, hello. This is Hunson Abadeer. I am the Regional Manager of Gunter-Lincoln Paper Products. Just wanted to talk you manager a manager…"
Honestly, Marshall tuned him out early on. He did that a lot nowadays. Hunson wasn't the most enthralling person to be around, and if there was anything he could do, Marshall Lee could most definitely do better. He'd thought about applying for the manager's position before he remembered how much more work it was, and really, how much pain did he really want to go through in his immortal lifetime?
" - all right, done deal! Thank you very much, sir!" Hunson replied gleefully. "You're a gentleman and a scholar - !" Suddenly his face changed. "Oh, I - I'm so sorry. Okay, I'm sorry. My mistake." He quickly hung up, then glanced at the camera. Then he looked at Marshall Lee as if he'd forgotten he was there. "That was a woman I was talking to... Heh. Whoops. She had a very low voice. Probably part demon. Or…wolf. Yeah… So, that's the way it's done."
It would be a very long day for the office.
To say that Hunson was excited when Simone told him about the documentary is an extreme understatement.
Six months beforehand, while they worried about signing contracts and releasing medical forms and all that junk, he spent it gleefully chatting it up in the office and bringing it up almost every single day. And when Hunson was excited about something, he forced the rest of the office to participate in his excitement - whether they liked it or not.
He really felt like it was the office's time to shine. Not only were they full of the most awesomest, caring individuals in all of the Night-O-Sphere, but also in all of Ooo itself.
Cake helped him that one time when his head got stuck in a trash can. Lemongrab berated him when he went too far hitting on the worker's at Gloober's. Peppermint Butler – well. He was pretty much useless.
The point is, the people he worked with (at least most of them) were honest-to-Glob hard workers and friends that he would do anything for. And everyone knows how the saying goes – you wouldn't do anything for your employees that you wouldn't do for your family!
"Alright, just look right at the camera," Doug advised. They were standing on the main floor, where Hunson wanted everyone to see him – in his element.
"Like this?" Hunson smiled broadly, showing all of his sharp, pointy teeth. The crew cringed.
"Uh, yeah, sure. Maybe less teeth, though. Now – action."
Speaking to the camera, he buffed out his chest. "I've been a part of Gunter-Lincoln for 5,000 years, the last millennial as Regional Manager. See – " He gestured around him, at the busybodies at their computers clacking away, trying not to look terrified at the camera recording them. "We have the entire floor. So this is my kingdom, as far as the eye can see!"
Walking up to the receptionist desk, Fionna lifted her head up only to have her stomach drop.
"This is our receptionist, Fionna the human girl. Spelled with two-N's, not one. Fionna Mertens has been with us, um, for…forever. Right, Fi?"
She tried to smile sweetly at the camera. "Well, I dunno about t–"
Hunson wagged his eye brows. "If you think she's cute now, you should have seen her a couple of years ago. Wore this silly little bunny hat and waved this ol' sword around… Me-yow."
Her smile dropped. "What?"
"Uh – any messages?" he said nervously at her look.
"Um, yeah…" She frowned. "Just a fax."
Handing it over the counter, she tried to keep her cool. She really didn't want corporate, or all of Ooo for that matter, to think she was some pushover crybaby. She would be chill, if only for now.
"Oh. Fionna," he tutted, "this is from corporate."
"Uh, yeah I know, Huns – "
"How many times have I told you that there's a special filing cabinet for things from corporate?"
Fionna raised an eyebrow. "Um. You haven't told me – "
"It's called the wastepaper basket!" Balling it up in time with a particularly maniacal laugh, he threw it into the trash bin. His pores started to open and weird, gross bugs started to wriggle around on his face as he giggled gleefully.
Fionna just stared at him, unaffected by his physical changes before he quickly morphed back into his usual, grey self.
"Ah, look at that, oh look at that face!" He laughed, pointing.
She sighed before returning to work with a deep frown.
Back at his desk, Hunson said, "People say that I am the best boss. They go, 'Glob, we're never worked in a place like this before. You're hilarious! And you get the best out of us.' Um…"
Unable to stifle his giggles, he merrily lifted up his skull-shaped mug that says Most Evil Boss, Ever. "And, I think that this pretty much sums it up."
Just outside his office, Marshall Lee and Lemongrab were sitting at their respective desks. However, Lemongrab was humming something real annoying, fixing everything so that it was perfect as possible on his desk. Marshall looked at him like he had two heads, which really would be a physical upgrading.
It didn't take long for the crew to snag him. Sitting at a chair in the conference room, Marshall Lee lounged in his chair.
"What is it that you do, exactly?" Carter asked, prompting him to talk into the camera like a "sensible person." Apparently, Marshall was being too "mean-spirited" for them. Whatevah, whatevah.
"My job is to, uh, speak to clients on the phone, about…uh, quantities… and uh, type of copier paper." He rubbed his chin. "You know, whether we can supply it to them, whether they can…pay for it. And um…" Clicking his tongue, his two fangs flashed briefly from inside his mouth before he chuckled softly. "I'm sorry I'm boring myself just talking about this."
After that very painful but short interview, Hunson walked up to Lemongrab and Marshall Lee's joined desks. The latter was busy staring straight on into the monitor as he clicking furiously away, while the former hovered just above his seat, his back hurting from sitting there way too long.
"Wasssup, home doggy-dogs!" Hunson practically shouted into Marshall's pointed ear. He nearly fell, but tried to laugh it off, sitting back down in his chair to face him.
"Waasuupp," he said back. "Heh. I still love that…even after 500 years…"
"Wassuup?!" Hunson replied, completely ignoring him.
"Wassup!" Oh, Glob, now the talking lemon joined him.
"Wassssuuuuuuuuuuup!" Hunson shrieked back, his voice splitting into two octaves.
Great, now this will never end.
In the corner where Accounting sat, Bartley Gumball pointed at something on his face.
Across from him, Cinnamon Bun wiped something off his face with his hand, making Gumball roll his eyes in disgust.
The door to the main office opened, and a woman with long white hair and a light blue dress walked in. "Just try to reach him sometime today," she said into her phone. "Um, I don't know, just before lunch, dumb butt. What am I paying you for?!"
Hunson quickly joined the crew outside his office, facing the woman with a large grin. "Simone! Hello!" he greeted cheerfully.
"Corporate doesn't really interfere with me at all."
Sitting at his desk during his first interview hours before, Hunson shifted in his seat.
"Um, Simone Petrikov-Grof is Gunter-Lincoln's Vice Prez of Sales. High up there in the, uh, pyramid. I call her Ice Queen… Not to her face, of course, because, uh – Well, not because I'm scared of her. Because I'm not…"
"Alright, Hunson," Simone said with a sigh, crossing her legs. In his office, Hunson sat with Simone and Fionna, who was busily taking notes of the meeting before her for record. "Was there anything you wanted to add to the agenda before we get started?"
"Hm… Uh, me no get an agenda."
Simone raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry - What?"
"I, uh, I didn't get an agenda."
"Well, I faxed one over to you this morning…"
"Really? Cause I didn't get it." Hunson turned to glare at Fionna. "Did we a fax this morning?"
Fionna pointed at her desk behind the window. "Yes I – "
He slowly began to chuckle. "Then why isn't it in my mittens?" For measure, he lifted up his hands, opening and closing them quickly. "And this company cannot run on efficiency of communication if things don't get into my mittens. Um, so – so what's the problem, Fi? Huh? Why didn't I get it in my mittens?"
Fionna mashed her teeth together. "That's because you put it in the garbage can thatyou said was a special filing cabinet."
Hunson put his hands down. "Oh, uh… yeah…" He glanced at Simone nervously. "Ah heh… Talk about hashtag-awkward. Um, yeah. That was a joke…"
"Hunson – " Simone said with a warning in her tone.
"Can I look at yours this once time? Pretty please?"
Simone glared. "Fine."
Taking a deep breath, the blue-skinned woman flattened the hair on her head. "Alright. So. Since the last meeting, David Lich and the board have decided that we can't justify a Night-O-Sphere branch and an Underworld branch."
Hunson became very still. "Ohhh, okay."
Simone knew better. "Hunson, please don't panic –
"No, no, this is good. This is all fine... Though my internal alarm clocks are kinda ringin' right now."
Simone touched his shoulder. "We haven't made any decisions yet. I've spoken to Hades in the Underworld branch, and I told him the exact same thing. Now it's up to either you or him to convince me that you and your branch can incorporate the other. This does, however, mean that there's going to be some downsizing."
"Yeah - yeah, okay, that doesn't sound so chill right now," Hunson said, rubbing his palms on his wrinkly pants. "I mean, I'm already sweating here, Simone. You really put me in a tight spot here. Because downsizing is a bitch, it is a real bitch. And I wouldn't wish it on Hade's men – I wouldn't wish it on my own men! And women. And candymen. Or cats. Or dogs. One of each to keep the building diverse," he rambled. "Say is Hades concerned about downsizing himself?"
Outside of Hunson's office, Marshall Lee stared at Lemongrab using a lemon peeler on his feet. Covering his nose with the collar of his shirt, Marshall began to look nauseous.
Back inside his office, Hunson's phone rang shrilly. "Ah-ha ah! Michael Mann! Terrific rep, Simone. He's so good we call him Magic Man 'round these parts! Do you mind if I take it?"
Simone growled as he punched the speaker phone button. "Magic Man! Wasssuup?"
"Hello there, you dusty old bat! Hey, is Ice Queen coming in today?"
Simone is suddenly very still, and Hunson is suddenly very sick.
"I've been meaning to ask her something: Does the carpet match the drapes?"
Hunson hurriedly hangs up, trying not to shake. "Um, uh-oh my glob…that is horrifying and – and horrible…"
"Do you think we can keep a lid on this for now?" Simone spoke through her pointy white teeth. "People shouldn't panic, Abadeer."
The look she gave him made Fionna shrink back in her chair. The office felt very, very cold and little sprinkles of snow came falling down.
"Absolutely not! It will not leave my office, I promise you."
"So…" Cake said, leaning over LSP's desk. "What does down-sizing actually mean?"
LSP gasped. "Oh my, glob, well – "
"You guys have to update your resumes, just like I'm doing," Gumball advised them. "I'm not going to leave this place without security."
"It's me; I really think it'll be me." Phoebe began to bite her nails. "Probably, but most definitely, me."
Cinnamon Bun nodded. "Yeah, it'll be you."
"So…" Fionna said, looking around the office. "I have an important question for you."
Like most days in the office, Marshall Lee can be spotted leaning against the receptionist's desk, talking to the very cute blonde girl who answers the phones. And not because she's cute (though that's a bonus). Can't a vampire just talk to girls without judgment?
The candy is delicious after all.
"Yes?" he hissed jokingly.
She could barely contain her giggles while she sputtered, "Um, are - are you going to Phoebe's Flambo party on Sunday?"
"Stop it," Marshall gasped while she laughed at his "shocked" expression. "That is ridiculous. You know vampires can't take the heat. How insensitive of you."
"Am I going to tell them? No. I don't see the point." Hunson took a sip from his coffee mug. "As an axe murderer, would you tell the police you're killing people? I don't think so."
Suddenly the front door opened again, and Hunson saw someone walk in. "Oh, wait, hold the phone!" Rushing out of his office, he waved at the young boy. "Hey! Hello there!"
Holding out his right hand, a very hot boy stood in front of him. (And no, not like that! Jeesh people, this is rated PG…) With orange skin, a fiery Mohawk, and a red gem on his forehead, he could be from nowhere else but the Fire Kingdom!
"Mr. Abadeer," the boy replied, shaking his hand.
"Guilty as charged! But I won't confess."
"I'm Philip Flint, from the temp agency. They sent me down to start today."
"Flint? As in Flintstones? I love that show, y'know before that Mushroom War thing happened and junk!" He laughed loudly, than began singing obnoxiously, "Flintstones meet the Flintstones! Scooby-dooby-doo!"
Turning to look at who might be watching them, his eyes fell on a worried-looking receptionist. "Oh, Fionna. It's a bro thing, Fi-Fi. You wouldn't understand, tomboy."
He turned to Philip, grinning stupidly. "I'm pretty advanced in the arts of comedy."
"I don't think it would be the worst thing if they let me go."
Sitting down in a room full of cameras wasn't exactly what she imagined her morning would go. After all, why would they be interested in her?
"Because then, I might go back to kicking guts and punching butts, you know? I just don't think it's many little girl's dreams to be a receptionist for the Night-O-Sphere. Um, I like to fight a lot, like combat. Mostly monsters, but I attack some trolls, and an ogre here or there." Fionna shrugged, with a small smile on her face. "Marshall Lee thinks it's cool."
"HMMMM." Lemongrab inspected his desk before he moved his ceramic lemon camel where his cup full of yellow pencils was. "No," he rasped, continuing to move objects around his desk, humming under his breath. "No no no no no no – " Then, in one swoop of his arm, he knocked off the things from Marshall Lee's desk that spilled over onto his.
Marshall, sitting on his swivel chair, sat up in shock. "One sec, Slime Prince, I'll call you right back. Something just came up." Hanging up the phone, he threw his arms in the air. "Glob, Lemongrab, what the stuff!"
"HMMM, your things are touching mine."
"Yeah okay - what are you doing?"
"Your things! – your office supplies touching my things! I cannot concentrate."
"Freaking lemon weirdo – dude! It wasn't even on your desk!"
"HMMMM, yes! Yes it is, it's overlapping – spilling! Spilling all over my thinking space."
Marshall couldn't keep down his laughter. "'Thinking space?' You mean you actually think?" he cackled. "Is that what your lemon brain does all day?"
"STOPTALKING!"
Hunson leaned against the counter of Fionna's desk. "Got anything for me, Honey Bunny?"
"Hunson, we already talked about this – " Fionna warned.
"Okay, okay, whatever… Party pooper."
She lifted up her head. "Excuse me?"
"Um, uh, nothing," he said nervously. "Any, uh, messages?"
"Well, you still have those messages from yesterday."
Snatching it out of her hands, he started ruffling through it. "Better not be my fan mail again. You know how often I get it… Uh-huh. Okay. Yeah. Alrighty then, okie-dokie, that's cool beans right on."
Looking back at the very unimpressed Fionna, he started wagging his eye brows up and down. "Okay, so - this is so important, I have to fly to my desk to answer it."
He then proceeded to terrify half the workers in the office by shape shifting into a giant freaking bat, and starting flying very slowly to his office. Beating his wings as slow as he was made it obvious that he didn't quite know how physics worked, and he then proceeded to fall flat on his face.
Embarrassed, he shifted back and slunk slowly in, slamming the door closed.
When Lemongrab walked back to his desk after his potty break, his face turned into a very bright red. "What is the meaning of THIS?"
While he was gone, Marshall Lee took it upon himself to do a little decorating. "I'm just going with what you said," he snickered as he continued to place pencils between the cracks of their desks, barricading him.
"HMMMM, you can't do that."
"Oh? And why is that?" It was obvious that he was pushing the Lemonbutt to his limits, but Marshall really couldn't stop now, could he? This was just too much fun.
"It's called a safety violation, and it's UNACCEPTABLE," he screeched, waving his yellow finger at Marshall. "The Terms and Conditions, it clearly states that anything that can be defined as 'purposefully harmful' to you or your coworkers isn't allowed."
Marshall leaned back in his swivel chair, balancing one of Lemongrab's pencils on his nose. "Hm… I think you just made that up."
"EEHH, NO. NO I DID NOT." Lemongrab's face was so incredibly red that Marshall feared that it would burst at any moment. Waving his lemony arm around, he began to pound his palm against the pencils, shrilly shrieking "UNACCEPTABLE" every time as they fell down.
"Dude, chill – I was just – "
Lemongrab then proceeded to take Marshall Lee's office phone and bite a chunk out of it.
"See," Marshall told the camera later that day, "this is why the whole 'downsizing' thing just doesn't bother me…"
Lifting up his mug, Hunson took a sip. "Well, I think I'm a role model here. I think I garner people's respect." When he pulled the mug away, he swiped away the thick red blood from his mouth.
"People I respect the most would include Idi Amin, Vlad the Impaler, Kim Jong-Il, Adolf Hitler, and George W. Bush. Just to name a few very inspirational heroes of mine."
Outside of his office, Hunson waved his arms around wildly. "Attention all Gunter-Lincoln employees! Please enter the conference room for a town meeting!"
The employees hesitated, remaining seated in their chairs. Lemongrab picked at the phone cord from his very jagged, sharp teeth.
Hunson began to pull back his lips, revealing a very cruel snarl and -
(OBC Network note: Due to the severity of these images too graphic to be appropriate for all viewers, we are under contract not to describe the images that were shown. Thank you for your understanding.)
Inside the conference room, the employees sat in the incredibly uncomfortable chairs found there.
"Now, I know that there are a few rumors traveling around out there, mostly because I have demon ears and can literally hear everything that you guys say – " He shot a pointed look at a few of the cameramen. " - but I just want to take the opportunity to set them straight –
"Ah-ah, Mr. Abadeer, sir!" Lemongrab, who always likes to sit front and center like a little freaking butt kisser, promptly left his chair to stand beside the former Night-O-Sphere King. "I'm Assistant Regional Manager, I should know first."
"Assistant to the Regional Manager," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Ahhh ah, yes, but… Can you tell me first anyways? Just tell me – just – " He grabbed him, shoving him close to him. "Just whisper it into my ear."
"You don't even have an ear," Hunson snarled, shoving him away. "And anyways, Lemongarble, I'm about to tell everyone."
"EEEHHH, i-it's Lemongrab…"
"Can we please just get on with it, Hunson?" Gumball spoke, standing up to put his hands on his girlish hips.
"Yeah, I don't know what you two boys are doin', but I'm getting' sick of just dancing around this subject," Cake spoke up from the back with a deep frown on her face.
Lemongrab flew his arms out. "No, no!" he shrieked before facing the very annoyed Hunson. "Okay, okay. Do you want me to tell them for you?"
"You don't even know what I'm about to say," he said with a huff.
"Then tell me, first, so that way they can know it as soon as possible."
"That's not even – that doesn't even… Whatever." Shoving him out of the way, Hunson cleared his throat. "Okay, corporate has deemed it appropriate to let me in on their little game going on here. Simone is thinking about downsizing either the Underworld branch or this one."
All hell broke loose.
Still sitting outside, Philip curled his flame-retardant phone to his ear between his head and shoulder.
"Yeah, I heard that they might be closing this branch down… Well, that's just a rumor going around, but I don't trust it… This Hunson guy doesn't seem right, but this is my first day so… I don't really know anything."
Inside the conference room, the employees are still panicking, all talking at the same time in a roar. A few chairs were already on fire (Phoebe) and a window was broken (LSP). So far, as Marshall expected, things were not going well for Hunson Abadeer.
"Yes, Hunson, but have you considered that they might want to downsize here?" Gumball asked, clenching his fists.
Hunson shook his head. "No way, Jose."
Gumball frowned. "My name isn't Jose."
"I think I'm going to get a headache," Fionna muttered to Marshall.
LSP rose up from his chair, his arms crossed over his lumpiness. "Yeah, but it'll be, like, totally out of your hands, Hunson."
"No, it won't LSP, okay? I promise."
Phoebe scoffed. "Can you even promise us that?"
Lemongrab shoved Hunson's face out of the way. "On his mother's grave."
Hunson shoved back. "I don't have a mother. Look guys - it is a promise - and I'm honestly insulted that you guys have to keep asking about it. Like, what the stuff, guys?"
"We need to know ASAP," Cake said, pointing one of her claws at him. "We need these jobs."
Hunson began to panic. Fiddling with the cuffs of his suit, he started laughing nervously. "Yeah, okay, okay…" Looking around for an advocate, he finally called out, "Fionna! Questions, anything to add?"
The spotlight suddenly on her, she began to fidget uneasily in her seat. "Well, I was in the meeting with Simone… And she did say that it could be this branch that gets the axe."
The room exploded once more.
"So you guys can't actually know for sure whether or not it's going to be us or them, can you?" Gumball accused, his voice nearly as shrill as Lemongrab's.
"No, but you guys didn't see me in there with her!" he said, starting to laugh – the sure sign of his sanity slipping. Marshall started looking around for a chair to use as a shield that wasn't one fire. "I said to Simone that if corporate wants to come in here and interfere with my bros, then they'll have to go through me! They aren't going to be messing with my bros."
Sitting in his chair, Bartleby Gumball shrugged. "Downsizing? Oh, I have no problem with that. Call it genetics, but there's always been something in my blood sugar that's screamed to cut people's heads – er, I mean…to cut people off. You know?"
"See if I left, what would I do with all of this useless junk inside my head?" Marshall asked as he slumped in his chair, twirling his gray finger beside his temple. "You know? Tonnage price for manila folders? Um… Fionna's favorite flavor of yogurt?" A small fanged smile. "Which is blueberry, by the way."
Lemongrab stood at the water cooler, spinning the liquid in the cup for a moment. He then proceeded to dump it on his face. His spores soaking it up, LG nodded to himself. "Adequate," he mumbled, tossing the cup over his shoulder.
"Oh, oh, watch out!" Hunson called, pointing at Lemongrab as he walked towards him. "Watch out for this guy!"
"Watch out for what?" he said, frowning at his manager. "What? W-who?"
"You, boy!" Hunson said, flailing his arms about. "Earl Lemongrab is undah the roof!"
The lemon still oblivious to his suave move of coolness, Hunson searched for a better topic when Philip started walking their way.
"Hey, yo! This is Philip," Hunson said, grinning.
Caught in the crossfire, Philip looked over at them uncertainly. "What's up?"
"Ah ha, yes," Lemongrab said, nodding. "Pleasure to meet you. Earl Lemongrab, Assistant Regional Manager."
"Assistant to the Regional Manager," Hunson coughed. "So, uh, Lemongrab, tell Philip about your camel and junk!"
"Oooh, right well..." Shuffling through his things, Lemongrab began to drone on while Philip wondered what in Ooo he'd done to deserve this form of punishment. "I bought an old camel for 1200, put in some medial modifications and now it's half camel, half lemons, half mode of transportation." Opening his drawer, he said, "I've got some pictures here I can show you –" Then he froze, and his body started to shake. "MARSHALL LEEEEE. GLOB IIIIIT!"
Marshall looked up at him innocently.
Hunson wasn't the type of demonic underworld leader to get scared easily, but Lemongrab's screaming would put anyone into a panic, honestly. "Woah there, woah, okay. Judge is in session, guys. What is the problem here?"
"He put my stuff in Jell-O again," he spat, lifting out a plate with none other than his lemon peeler inside.
From the receptionist desk, Fionna gasped, choking down her sputtering giggles. Marshall winked at her.
"Real professional, Marshall," Lemongrab hissed. "This is the third time, and it wasn't funny the first two times either."
Marshall leaned in towards the camera. "Yes it was."
"Eehhh, it is adequate here, usually," Lemongrab said, sitting upright in his chair with his hands folded in his lap. "But sometimes others - who will not be named - take advantage of their co-workers - who will also remain nameless - because it is so chill here."
His lips puckered together like he ate something sour. "I'm a volunteer Earl of the Land of Lemons on the weekends. So you cannot just screw around here."
Hunson, despite his better judgment (which, honestly, there is no "better" one), started to laugh. "What…what is that suppose to be?"
Lemongrab's sharp teeth began to appear as he started to reach into the disgusting Jell-O-ness. "It's my lemon peeler – !"
Hunson slapped his hand away. "No don't take it out! You might cut yourself."
"Isn't that the point?" Philip asked.
"Ho! Burn," Hunson said, laughing. "Get it? Cause he's made out of fire!"
"We get it," Marshall deadpanned.
"You-you have to eat it out of there," Hunson said, still cackling. "Because there are starving people in this world that I would love to see cry as you eat at this."
"You're a witness - why can't you just reprimand him!" Lemongrab pointed at the culprit, who was busy eating his own cup of red Jell-O.
"Uh, hold up." Marshall pointed at himself with his spoon. "How do you know it was me?"
"It's always you," Lemongrab hissed. "Who else eats red Jell-O, you color-eating sicko?"
Hunson wiped the tears from his eyes. "Okay. Alright, here's the deal guys. Thing about a practical joke is that you have to stop sometime." He shrugged. "Now, whether it's by management or corporate or on your own time, that's up to you. But I want you to promise me, Marshall Lee, that you will stop when you can."
"WHHAAAT."
Marshall put one hand on his non-beating heart, with his other raised. "I swear on my mother's grave."
"You don't even have a mother!" Lemongrab snapped, swatting the Jell-O cup from his mittens, followed by a cry of mock-exasperation from Marshall Lee.
Recalling the temp beside him, Hunson slapped his back a bit too hard. "That's just the way it is around here, bro, you'll catch on," he said before walking back into his office.
"Does no one have a mom here?" the fire boy mumbled before walking to his desk.
"Do I think Hunson Abadeer is insane?" Marshall tapped his chin then shrugged. "Well, I think that's up to you to decide. But you can come to that decision on your own time, and stop watching when you can."
On the office floor, a camera zoomed in on Phoebe's face as she takes a costumer call. While she hangs up, she tried to remove her hand from the phone when she found she couldn't remove it entirely.
Disgusted, she cast a glare at Bartleby when she realized that it was sticky gum.
Nearly a half-hour before 5, Marshall Lee leaned once again on Fionna's desk. Taking out a single red-colored candy, he sucked out the color before chucking it at the trash bin.
"So, what do you think about going out for a drink at the end of the week?" he asked casually.
Fionna paused. "Yeah, sure."
"Yeah, that's, uh, that's why we're all going out," he quickly added. "So we can have an end-of-the-week-drink. You know?"
"Okay." Fionna's smile was blinding. "So when are we going out?"
"Tonight, you know, hopefully." He began to smile just as bright.
"Yeah, okay, sure…"
Then, as if Glob knew things were going way too well for the two of them, the front office door opened. Marshall's non-beating heart dropped, and he quickly shrunk away from his position on the desk.
"Hey guys!" Finn said, his smile bright. With his white and blue sword slung behind his back and his blonde hair still sweaty from the day's adventures, it was obvious that he was the perfect golden boy. Perfect for Fionna, that is.
Honestly, it was disgusting. How in the world could two people be so perfect for each other? Glob damn it.
"Hey," Fionna said, obviously perking up at his presence.
"What's up, guys?" he asks, way too cheery, swinging his arm around Marshall's shoulders and pulling him in for an incredibly uncomfortable noogie to the head.
"Nothing much," Fionna said giggling at Finn's antics. Marshall paused at her laughter and quickly shoved the golden boy away.
"Whoa, what's up, ML?" Finn said, laughing.
"I don't like noogies," Marshall said, ruffling his hair to its perfect amount of messiness.
"Honestly, Marsh, I think it was an improvement," Finn said laughing.
"I'm like a thousand years old, guys…" Marshall mumbled to deaf ears.
Fionna's cheeks colored into a very bright pink. "Finn is my fiancé," she gushed. "We've been engaged for about three years now. He's just so great, you know? We play video games together and sometime he takes me on adventures with him. We do burping contests and – "
She shook her head, curling a strand around her finger. "We were, uh, supposed to get married back in September, but I think we're going to get married in the spring… You know how busy an adventurer's schedule is. Kinda hard to get married with things like goblins and dragons going around trying to kill your fiancé…"
Fionna finished wiping the tears from her eyes, giggling. "Do you mind if I go out for a drink with these guys?"
Finn's face dropped. "But what about BMO? You know how to do the combo to get past the Demon Gems – he still doesn't think I'm advanced enough to learn it!"
"Oh, right," Fionna said, nodding before turning to Marshall. "BMO has this super hard game he just made, and only I know how to get to level 30."
"That's because BMO and you are in cahoots!" Finn accused.
"Okay, whatever… Mr. Level Five."
Finn mocked a gasp. "How dare you!"
Fionna laughed cheerily. "Okay, I'm just going to be a few minutes. I still have to take care of some faxes." Getting up from her chair, she collected a handful of papers before leaving.
Then came the silence.
Finn was usually very amiable, but something appeared to be on his mind. Marshall then noticed a very gruesome cut on his arm. "Hey, what happened?"
"What?" Finn looked down. "Oh, yeah. That. It's just from some vampire in one of the dungeons I went down to this afternoon."
"It's still bleeding," Marshall said, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Nah, it'll be fine!" he said joyfully. "Y'know how vampires get – but don't worry, I killed them all."
Marshall Lee tried not to visibly swallow.
"You know you, uh, you should come with us," Marshall offered, his internal self wanting to shove his foot in his mouth. "Because, you know, we're all going out. And it could be a good chance for you to meet the others outside of the office. Could be fun, you know? Too relax with the guys."
The silence that proceeded afterwards was immensely awkward, and painful.
"Um, yeah?" Finn said.
"Uh, yeah, yeah," he replied, looking down.
"We actually need to be leaving," Finn said, but it didn't matter how gently he let him down. It was still incredibly embarrassing.
"Yeah, yeah, sure – " Marshall said, trying to recover. "So… Uh, what's - "
"Let Fionna know that I'll be outside for me, yeah?" Finn said, stepping away.
"Yep, yeah totally man. See you later, dude." Watching him close the door behind him, Marshall really wanted to climb into the trash can never come out. I'm definitely not going to get invited to the wedding.
Hunson Abadeer spent almost the entire day with the camera following him around, and he still felt like a giddy school boy whenever it pointed its lenses at him. And he really wanted to impress them and the people in the future who would be watching him. So, what better way to get the camera on him, then to talk to the new guy?
"So, have you felt the vibe yet?" Hunson asked his temp worker. "We work hard, we play harder, you know what I mean, string bean? The atmosphere that I've created here is that I'm a friend-first kind of guy. Just a laid-back casual guy, just like you, Phil."
Philip fidgeted in his chair. I really hope this chair is flame retardant. "Um, I prefer Philip – "
Thankfully a knock on the door drew Hunson's attention away.
When Hunson peaked his head around the blinds that covered the window, he squealed in glee.
"Hey, you like pranks right?" Philip shrugged. "I get that prankster vibe off of you, kiddo! You wanna join in on this bad boy? Just follow my lead, son." Leaving no room for argument, he spoke up from his not-so-quiet whisper and shouted, "C'mon – come in, Fi!"
Fionna stepped inside just a smidge. "I have your fax here, Hunson."
"Thank you, Fi. Hey, can you come in here for a second?" he asked, barely able to contain his snickering.
Hesitantly, Fionna sat down with a somewhat sinking feeling in her stomach.
"As you know, there's going to be some downsizing going on in here because of Simone. And you have made my life so much easier…that I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go."
Fionna paused. "What?"
Why the heck am I even here, Philip quietly asked Glob.
Hunson shrugged. "Well, uh. Theft."
Fionna stood up from her seat. "Theft? What could I have possibly stolen?!"
"Post-it notes."
"Post-it notes? What are those, like 50 cents?"
"Yeah, and if you steal 1000 Post-it notes at 50 cents apiece you're running quite the little business in here, young lady." In all honesty, it was amazing that he was even able to maintain his straight face. "Gonna to get us all downsized, Fi, Glob it."
Fionna's hands were now fists. "Wait, are…are you serious?"
Hunson nodded.
"You are aware that I am your receptionist and therefore more than above qualified to even be using those things. And I've never even stolen anything. Not even…a paper clip. Or a pencil."
"Well. I don't make the rules, Fionna – "
Philip noticed a change in Fionna's composure - and the fact that she didn't look composed at all. In fact, her face started turning a shade of red that could rival Lemongrab's and her fists were shaking. "Uh, Hunson – "
"Shushies, Phil," he said, annoyed. "Let me deal with this alone." Turning back to her, he started, "I'm sorry, but you have to clean out your d – " He stopped at the look she gave him. "Uh…Fi?"
"You can't fire me, because I quit!" Fionna bellowed, charging at him. "You big, ungrateful oaf. You giant, smelly butt face!"
"Oh-oh my…uh…"
Philip really wanted to know why he was here.
"You can't fire me, jerk!" Fionna snapped, drawing her fist back.
"Ack! Not the face, Fi, not the face!"
Hunson morphed one arm into a tentacle and wrapped it around her, holding her mid-air as she kicked and shoved like a rabid animal. "Surprise! Uh, it was a joke – I was just joking! You've been formerly pranked by Hunson Abadeer! Surprise…!"
Fionna stared at him with an open mouth, in shock.
"Ah, heh. Ta dah!" Hunson let her down and tried to reach for a hug with one arm still shaped into a tentacle.
Fionna shoved him away with a smack on the chest. "Are you s – are you kidding me right now?" Walking away in a huff, she shook her head. "The only joke here is you, you BUTTFACE!" Then slammed the door behind her.
Looking over at Philip, who was staring intensely at the floor, Hunson began laughing nervously.
"Ah heh. So, uh, that's the way it is around here. More or less…" he mumbled, looking around awkwardly. Then he sniffed the air. "Do you smell something burning?"
"What is the most important thing for a company?" Hunson asked the camera as he leaned back in his chair. "Is it the cash flow, is it the inventory? Nope, and nope! It's the people." He nodded at his own "sound" wisdom, taking a long sip from his skull mug.
"My proudest moment wasn't when I increased profits by 13%. Or when I cut expenses without losing a single worker. Or slave." He shrugged, laughing jovially. "I treat my workers like slaves and my slaves like workers. And you don't get an entitled position without cutting off a few corners, or heads!"
Walking out from the bathrooms at the end of the office, Fionna saw Marshall Lee standing near the door with an umbrella and shades on top his head. "Hey!"
The vampire king waved. "Oh, hey. I heard about what happened. You okay?"
"Oh, whatever. I'm fine," she said, shaking her head as she thought back on the absurdity of it all. "He was just being a bigger jerk than usual. You know how he gets around new people…"
Then she noticed the time – 5:17 already? Where had the time gone? Fionna turned to him. "Hey, I thought you were going to go out drinking with the others?"
Marshall shook his head. "Oh, no, nah. I'm just, uh, going to…" He flittered his hand around vaguely. "You know. Close up shop."
Fionna smiled sweetly at him, but he knew better. Sadly. "Yeah, I do."
He cleared his throat. "So how's your headache? Any better?"
The blonde nodded. "Yeah it is, thanks."
He nodded back dumbly. "Good, good…"
The silence between them was so potent it could kill someone. Fionna ruffled her blonde bangs a moment before asking, "is, uh, are you – "
"Am I walking out?" He smiled
"Yeah." She smiled back.
What am I doing? He quickly shook his head, his smile dissolving into a very tiny grin. "No. But maybe tomorrow…?"
Obviously a bit frazzled, she quickly waved it off. "Yeah, sure. Finn's probably waiting for me, anyway."
Of course. Finn.
"Yeah." He waved. "I'll see you Monday, then?"
"Yeah," Fionna said as she walked out the front door, waving back with a small grin of her own, "have a nice weekend!"
"Yeah, totally. You too."
Marshall Lee King stared at the door a moment before walking over to his desk. Opening up a drawer, he lifted out a plate full of red Jell-O with a very familiar skull mug instead. Catching sight of the camera following him, he winked at it before placing it right in the middle of Hunson's Abadeer's desk to be found Monday morning.
A/N: This took me an embarrassingly long time to write. I'm sorry if it was a bit rushed or too choppy, but I'm honestly really proud of this work. If any of you have seen the Office before, then you probably recognized quite a few parts that I took from the show and incorporated into this fic.
I'm not sure if I will do another one or not. If I do, it won't be in order, and because of the particular AT characters I put as the cast, it won't be exactly like the show (which might be a good thing, but that does mean a lot more work). But I really wanted to explore the other characters, so you might see one or two more chapters whenever I find inspiration!
And as always, thank you for reading! If you think an AT character should have been someone else, leave me your opinion! I'm open to both critics and praises. Reviews are always appreciated.