This is it," Doctor Doom thought. "I shall end this now. The thieving scum in this horrid world won't get away with their gross injustices.
They will face fear in the eyes, and their souls will tremble like schoolgirls confronted by a bear on the playground. Infidels and wretches beware; your day of reckoning is at hand!"
Doom cocked a triumphant smile as his paper spit out of the copier machine. With a smug sense of accomplishment, he taped a letter to the office microwave.
"Crooked fiends and impeders of progress," the letter read, "your reckoning shall be swift and fierce if this gross monstrosity continues any further! The office microwave is not for the impure of soul or feeble of mind. If you continue to make messes and refuse to clean them up, you shall be dealt with severely and without mercy."
As Jonathan Newman walked down the hall, he caught, in the barest peripherals of his hearing, the faint sound of muffled footsteps following him. He stopped, and the footsteps did too.
Jonathan spun around, but the space behind him was empty. Jonathan turned back to continue walking.
He took a few steps, then paused.
Steps. He barely heard them, but they were there.
He spun around. Nothing.
A bead of sweat dripped down the back of Jonathan Newman's neck. Jonathan began walking again, this time at a faster pace. The steps behind him quickened.
Jonathan Newman started running, perspiration now coating his face. Around him, the lights began shutting off.
"HUNGGHH!" Jonathan was pulled by the stomach and drawn into the air. He was now strapped to the wall, held in place by an electromagnetic field. Jonathan then heard a harsh, dark voice beside him.
"Where is the feature information for Project Driftwood?"
"Wh-what?" Jonathan began stuttering.
"You have delayed your duties for far too long! I shall ask you only one time more, where is the feature information for Driftwood!"
"It- it's almost done! I've been meaning to-"
"ENOUGH! I've had enough of your shirking of duties and nonsense babbling! My department has long required this information, for the marketing campaign is nigh at hand!
We require the knowledge from engineering to complete our brochures! You have one day to complete this task."
A flash rang through the hallway, and Jonathan Newman was alone.
Thomas Gurich buzzed his secretary. "Tell him I'm ready to see him now."
"Mr. Gurich is ready for you, Doctor Doom." Doom stepped into Gurich's office. On the desk was a plaque that read "Thomas Gurich, Director of Marketing"
"As you know, Viktor, it's time for your performance review," Gurich said. "Tell me, what do you think your biggest accomplishment was this year?"
Doctor Doom sighed, and took a seat.
