It's Cave,

I hope everyone's in a bad mood today because the last time I stockpiled a positive email on a positive day, things went wrong. Try to decipher what happened from this following list of words: spider, egg, heads, expansion, expulsion, combustion, and… fire. Greg, fix those last two, would you? If I wipe these people's memories again, they need a convincing list of words and not a list of words where the last two might as well be meshed into one. Now that we've got Greg's mistake out of the way, I've got some very good news! I've also got some very bad news because, again, you people seem to like being bipolar on a day-to-day basis. I also don't want to have to create a whole new list of words to explain the horror fest that may come our way if I make a mistake of making this a too-happy email.

Now, you all know from last week that we as a science facility were visited by an alien known only as Dub-Cave Step-prime. I'll just get straight to the point: the good news is, the man meant no harm. I'm serious. It appears that all he wanted to do was come here and help promote my APAPD. The bad news is, and I should've seen this coming, none of you actually believe me. It's a tragic day when I have to agree with the damn masses, even if those masses have seen things more out there than the concept of an energy being named Dub-Cave Step-prime. As a result, close to every employee scratch that; everyone in the facility is blasting me for forwarding my last email out because they think I'm trying to brainwash them. They also think I'm trying to promote and advertise the APAPD through an elaborate lie.

It's not even one viewpoint either! There've been hundreds of theories given to me as to why I forwarded that email. Take test subject #601, for instance:

"Mister Cave Johnson,

Why do you have to exploit the multiverse? Why can't you just grow the pineapples to interact with it? So far all you've done is imprison a monkey version of you, and now… you're making up a version of you that's an energy being? One that not only can't be seen, but talks to you in your head?! That's it. I'm not testing again. I hate this shameless policy of yours. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Or perhaps you'd like to hear test subject #518's theory behind my email…

"Cave,

Hi. My name's [REDACTED] and while I'm aware that revealing my name could threaten myself, my personal life and my family, but I'm going ahead anyway. I'll tell you why: I'm a firm believer that you are in fact going to destroy the essence of science and Aperture Science as a whole… by tampering with the fabric of reality! If you want to keep doing science, if you want everyone to be happy, quit with this multiverse crap!"

Firstly, let's address #601. Hello, test subject #601. Now, the reason I imprisoned my only multiverse version of me that's been here physically, is because he's pranking everyone. I might as well make him an employee after this. Do you know how bad it feels to find out that one of your multiverse selves has to settle as a damn employee? If I make him head of testing, he'll stage actual 'Real Crashes' and he'll end up killing everyone, or he'll just find a way to turn people into bananas. That's all he's good at. As to your second thing about Dub-Cave Step-prime… well, you've got me there.

Test subject #518 deserves a medal… if both of my multiverse selves were caused by me rooting around in the multiverse! Seriously, how do you people not understand that I didn't personally invite Zealot Cave into my office, let alone the facility as a whole? Is there something I'm missing about bananas? Are they the new cool? I knew about banana phones and at one point in the 70s I made them a thing here, until my senior testing advisors were found in diapers – actual diapers – chewing mindlessly on the phones themselves. I actually had to counter-sue the National Radiation Committee for having two numbers for an international number just because one of my seniors accidentally called them. That's why the National Radiation Committee has over fifty numbers in its international number, fun fact.

As for Dub-Cave Step-prime, let's just assume for the sake of everyone's sanity, or lack thereof for everyone who either isn't me or isn't a personality sphere, that he was real. It's outta my control if some energy-wave being version of me steps into my office and demands everyone listens to the APAPD, okay? I know, it sounds dangerously suspicious that I'd make all of that up just for sales, but I'm not. I'd probably do that to see how stupid the people working for me were, compared to the 70s, but I actually already know how many people aren't doing their jobs. Hell, I've even got a chart. I had to rip down my Aperture logo imprinted on my glass door just to remind everyone, every day that your job is at imminent stake.

It's a shame you people don't care. Here's where the good news is. Aperture Science has always been about testing. As your CEO, my plan is to make science as creative and productive as you could imagine! We've invented lots of things, from the Quantum Tunneling Device in the 50s, to the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device (ASHPD), and we've made a lot of interesting obstacles to accompany those tests. In the first days of the company, it was a milestone to pick up a box, place it on a button and have the button open a door.

Incidentally, it was as much a milestone to place a box on a button, jump on the repulsion gel, and lose your legs an hour later. Testing needs failures to make the tester want to succeed. If there are no hazards, there are no tests. It seems like this, the status quo of Aperture Science, has transformed from scientific testing… to personality testing. That's to say, me testing you to see if you are capable of doing your jobs. I don't just mean employees, I mean everyone. Folks, I'm not a warden, I'm a man trying to improve the future with science. I'm not trying to screw with you.

You're trying to screw with me! Now, in other universes, I'd drop all of my things and transform the facility into a concentration camp, with all sorts of fun things. I'd crush a few hundred employees and test subjects with a crusher on a Wednesday, then I'd probably stuff Greg in with a couple of propulsion gel-covered phonies and let 'em have at it… but I'm not gonna do that. I'm going to raise everyone's pay, I'm going to clean up the cafeterias, and then maybe I'll tackle world hunger while I'm at it.

Additionally, I'm going to make a whole new wing dedicated to personality testing. I know, it sounds boring. It sounds like that one boring psychology class in high school and I assure you it'll be a lot like that until I can smoothen it up a bit. I need input, people. When that wing opens, head straight for it. For the ones especially brainless, follow the bright purple line on the floor. Next email will explain what exactly the wing's gonna be. Oh, and next week I'll be talking about some cooling solutions for the lower facilities this summer because I think the cafeteria soup is made out of people.

Cave Johnson, we're stewing here.