Every once in a while, at work, I have to request renewal of authorization to use a resource. As part of that process, I’m supposed to provide a short reason justifying why I still need access. Of course, after asking for a “short description”, they give me an unlimited-length text field. Which means that someone, somewhere, gets a bit of flash fiction every once in a while, when I’m feeling particularly perky.
“Required to do my job.” My supervisor sounded the four words out slowly. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
I shrugged. “Look. You hired me to take care of the... strange infestations. The ones that the other exterminators couldn’t, or wouldn’t, deal with. The killer bees, the undead wasps, the—what was it last month?”
I watched as he suppressed a visible shudder. “Those non-euclidean things? We’re still not quite sure.”
Ah. I thought they had seemed a bit hinky. “They’re dead, now, though.”
“Gone, you mean.”
“Same thing. That’s my point.” I tapped the requisition. “I get results. You get paid. And believe me, for the Jenkins job, I am going to need all of this.”
“Including the four hundred pounds of candy corn?”
“Especially the four hundred pounds of candy corn.”
And however you plan to use it for the Jenkins job, it's still one of my favorite Halloween treats.