There sat a man, doing paperwork as any man does. Except his job was to file paperwork.
Years of decent organization meant most of the files could be found within two or three weeks once the search party entered the endless halls of shelves. If the first party couldn't find the wanted file (or exit), another search party would attempt the quest. According to the section newspaper, a record of 20 search parties were dispatched to find a dispute-settling document. Search-and-rescue parties were considered, but that idea was struck down because of the paperwork already filled for that document.
Reorganizing meant filing paperwork for paperwork because of incoming paperwork! Quite the exercise the man's hand enjoyed.
Still, there was some enjoyment in the job. Bits of information unknown to most were certainly masked behind the wall of bureaucracy. The man's job was a ticket to secrets long forgotten, like this snippet concerning 'Project Fuelcell."
The following is a transcription from TT-L.I:
"Who are you?" Thalia deadpanned, sitting stiffer than a board.
"I'wm Percy!" the little boy announced, grinning the most perplexing 'smile' Thalia had ever categorized. She considered placing Percy under the 'pest' category.
"First name: Perseus."
"Doan call me Pe…Purys…Perweus, meanie!"
Tick-zzzzzzzz!
"Wha?" Thalia zoned out, unable to process the recent dialogue. The light in her right eye flickered, a common sign of syntax error.
"Robot girl is funny!" The child giggled.
A new variable popped up in her mind, "Define 'Perseus:' Annoying."
"Am not!" Thalia's flickering eye closed in pain, steam rising out of her ears. Her face grimaced, unable to bear the simplicity of this test.
"Annoying: True," she deadpanned, tapping the side of her head in vain attempt to recalibrate this conversation.
"Am not!"
"Annoying: Ture." Her stiff composure was long gone, desperately grasping for calm logic against this anomaly of randomness.
"A-am not!" Percy started crying, "Meanie!"
Her remaining eye went dark, then displayed a yellow triangle warning sign. Thalia's face went red, the cause unknown.
"Any-oil-ing: F-flase?" Sparks started flying as Thalia lost motive control in her face.
"Yesh! Percy fwalse annoying!"
"S-syntaaaaaaaaa—"
Thalia could not handle the variable and promptly crashed sideways.
"I win!" little Percy announced jumping.
Note: A solution is needed to prevent damage to the Beatmaker and EES.
The man laughed, hearing of that incident from a friend in the sector. Perhaps he could find more gems among these deadening halls.