I wrote the first part of this a couple of months ago, but could never find a way to end it. I'm not entirely satisfied with it, but I think it's time to give it a try.

During hard economic times, office supplies are limited. One of the best ways to extend supplies is to take inventory regularly and carefully. A reliable inventory can help the office save money and better supply its workers. Though it may seem tedious, it will benefit everyone in the end.

"I can't take this anymore," Tony proclaimed, dropping his clipboard and pen and flopping down on the floor. "Inventory is just too boring."

"Stink it up, Tony," Ziva replied crossly. "We're only here because of you."

"I think you mean suck it up, Ziva," McGee corrected. "And she's right Tony. This is all your fault."

"Hey!" Tony said, pouting. "This is so not my fault."

"Tony, Vance is making us do this because he found your collection of paper airplanes, their sticky note pilots and the rubber band and paperclip slingshots you were using to launch them. How is that not your fault?"

"It's not like I meant for him to find them."

McGee rolled his eyes. "You left them on top of your desk in plain sight. They're kind of hard to miss."

Tony crossed his arms and glared at McGee. "I left them there when I went to the bathroom. How was I supposed to know that Vance would walk by?"

"Because he likes to make sure that we're actually working?"

"Okay. Fair enough. But how was I supposed to know that he would make us all do inventory?"

"Because there have been three meetings about budget cuts in the last month and numberless emails." Ziva snapped. "Even the Handbook says that inventory is important. You should not have wasted all those materials. We may not get more until next year."

"You really think that Vance would stop giving us office supplies?" Tony asked skeptically. "If he wants everyone to get work done, he can't take away working materials."

"Just us, Tony. He would only take them away from us," McGee replied. "And it's countless, Ziva. Not numberless."

"Whatever," Ziva said, rolling her eyes. "Tony, stand up. We are almost done checking the staples and pens. We may be able to finish this today."

Tony moaned and sunk lower against the wall. "This is taking forever. We're never getting out of here."

"Okay, we're done." McGee said happily, stepping back from the shelf in front of him.

Tony looked up. "What? How?"

McGee rolled his eyes and gathered his clipboard and pen. "Well, Tony, while you were whining on the floor, some of us were actually doing inventory. It's like the tortoise and the hare- slow but steady wins the race."

Tony shrugged. "I never really understood that. It doesn't make sense."

"The tortoise wins despite its speed because it never stops," Ziva explained, heading for the door. "The hare is fast, but gets bored and takes a nap. It actually works very well if you apply it to yourself and McGee."

"Being fast helps me stay on Gibbs' good side," Tony said. "Which is why he's going to be way less mad at me for missing work to do inventory when I make it back to the Bullpen first with a cup of coffee for him." He jumped up and nearly tripped, steadying himself on the nearest shelf.

"Tony, no!" Ziva cried.

Tony turned back around slowly and watched in horror as the shelf he grabbed toppled into the next one, creating a domino effect across the room.

Tony winced as the hours of tedious work – albeit mostly due to Ziva and McGee – crashed to the ground. "I guess you guys were right. Slow but steady does win the race."

McGee took a deep breath and shook his head. "I am going to kill you."

Tony chuckled and backed away from Ziva, who, unlike McGee, really might kill him. "It was an accident," he protested weakly.

"So was the hare falling asleep and losing the race," Ziva said, glowering at him. "But in this version of the story, the hare is going to die."

McGee nodded and continued, "The turtle is going to kill him, with a little help from his ninja sidekick. That is, kill him after the hare finishes taking inventory."

Tony moaned and started putting the shelves back up. As much as he hated doing inventory and extended metaphors, he was more afraid of being murdered slowly with paperclips by a turtle and his ninja sidekick.

As always, feel free to correct any spelling/grammatical errors. Also, once again, I'm running out of ideas. Suggestions are always welcome.