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Kami O' Joe was spinning in lazy circles, the squeak squeak of his swivley-chair the only sound in the deserted Police Department offices. He turned around and glanced at the also deserted lobby. Sighing heavily he returned his attention to the mountain-like stack of papers sitting astride his desk. Kami was uncomfortable for two reasons:
1. His swively chair was broken
2. The pile of papers was staring back at him.
At least that's how it felt. The very presence of the paperwork was disquieting to Kami, who felt that joining the SWAT team and gaining the position of senior officer should exempt one from such mundane duties. As the clock tick-tocked above his desk he zoned out, staring at the papers and imagining that it was staring back. He imagined that it would reach out a papery hand and write itself away....then he snapped out of his little trance and refocused.
He tried to focus, he really did, but the vending-machine outside seemed to be staring at him now. "Oh, alright", Kami mumbled "I guess I need some brain food". Kami took his time getting a snack, in fact it he managed to take 10 minutes unlocking the doors, walking towards the machine, choosing a snack (chips or pringles, chips or pringles...), putting his change into the machine, and walking back to his desk. He decided not to work and eat at the same time, for to do so would risk getting the papers dirty. Then he came to the sudden realization that he was thirsty, so he took another 5 minutes to go get a drink from the water-fountain.
Kami now had a half-hour left on his shift. He slowly raised his pen, mentaly preparing himself to get his work done. He then smote the paper, pressing pen-tip to his work for line after line of endless signing. He gritted his teeth with the effort, watching as the ink flowed as blood does during battle. He was now standing on his feet, swivley chair knocked to the ground by the very intensity of his work. Thrice his pen stopped writing, and when it stopped the fourth time he was so focused on his paperwork he felt he could not take the time to open the drawer for a new pen. He punched straight through the top of the desk into the drawer, and withrdrew a fresh pen without skipping a beat. The window blew open and a gust sent his paperwork scattering. He watched the papers float about him as if in slow-motion. Instead of catching them he pulled forth another pen from his pocket....and he signed the swirling papers mid-flight; dual weilding his pens. When it was all over he had signed his paperwork, but he had to be hospitilized for his exertions. The PD did him the favor of sending his remaining paperwork directly to his hospital room.
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