The commissary was quieting down as customers stopped flowing in and the food preparers started shutting down the cafeteria. The clanging of steel trays and diningware being loaded into the steaming dishwasher provided an excellent cover for Hamtaro to scurry into the kitchen with. Winding some piano wire he had stolen from the piano supply storage closet during an adventure conveniently not documented by this story around his hands, he climbed up onto the highest cabinet in the room, waited for an unsuspecting cook to walk by, and garroted the poor man until he succumbed to Hamtaro, and asphyxiation.

The plucky hamster dragged the cook into a utility closet and swapped clothes with him. Making his way back into the kitchen, Hamtaro whistled and pushed a serving cart full of dishes past the kitchen security guards. He thought he had made it through without incident, but one of the guards double-took him and started to get up. Hamtaro spun around and threw a fork from the cart right into the guard's face.

"Ahhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! It's not even a clean one!" the guard screamed. "Someone ate with this! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" He continued screaming for several minutes and then fell over and died.

Hamtaro looked around cautiously, making sure no one had noticed. Most of the staff had already gone home, and the ones that were there were too busy to hear the guard's pleas for help. He pushed the cart into an empty room and picked up his pace, following the signs all the way to where he wanted to go: the employee lounge.


**********


"Hamtaro! Where have you been, buddy?" a stranger slapped Sam on the back and shouted gleefully.

"Uh... just somewhere."

The Ham-Ham friends looked at each other in befuddlement. Jingle was the first to break the awkward silence.

"So..."

Suddenly Jingle's head exploded and he was cleverly written out of the rest of the season.


**********


The cooking staff in the employee lounge cheered and shouted slogans of solidarity as Hamtaro stood on the coffee table compelling his "brothers of the culinary trade" to rally against their common enemy--the scientist bourgeoisie. As he explained his plan for a peaceful demand of better standards of living, Hamtaro made sure to recommend they bring plenty of cutlery for self-defense. Scientists were unpredictable, and had been known to use their "books" and "things" against cook insurrections in the past. They gaily sauntered down the hall wielding cleavers and meat tenderizers, singing the Marseillaise as a festive cook in a tricorner hat played his fife and bobbed his head. The group passed by the security office of the third floor and the guard quickly telephoned his superiors, Mr. Chanticleer and Miss Woolite, about the dancing cooks.

Mr. Chanticleer uneasily set down the phone. "Oh, God."

"They were... dancing?"

"And singing."

"I knew we should've paid the extra money to do radon tests of the other half of the building. But I thought, 'What are the odds one half doesn't have radon and the other half does?' Surely it would've seeped onto this half and been detected! Surely!"

"Calm down, Joona." She massaged his shoulders. He moved away from her.

"Please, Sandra. I told you before. Ever since you became a woman, I just... can't. I'm sorry."

The door flew open in an absurdly loud crash and the protesters poured into the security administrator's office.