The ‘Flu’

I walked into work this morning like normal, punched a mime, got some water, checked my email, fed the orca, y’know, all the usual things one does at one’s place of work if one happens to be a complete psycho.

After about fifteen minutes, I noticed . . . something. It took me a while to figure it out. At first, I thought maybe it was the lack of screaming, but that wasn’t it. Then I wondered if the coffee robot had broken again and everyone was asleep at their desks, but that wasn’t it either. Then I realized what it actually was: everyone was gone.

Seriously.

This had happened before. Sometimes, an emergency meeting will be called early in the morning and the whole studio will be in the big meeting room. So I wandered over and checked. Nope, no one was there either.

I passed one of the other designers. He was hurrying out the door, his hat and coat on.

“Hey, Volpar” I said.

He barely glanced at me. “Sick,” he said. “Gotta go home.”

“Ah,” I said, making a sign to ward off the evil spirits that had infected him.

And then Volpar was out the door. Leaving me alone again.

I began to wonder if I was the last man in the studio, if not the last man on the planet.

NOTE: I once saw a French movie about a man who was the last man in the world. Eventually, he met the last girl and then she died. There might have been a dog too. Needless to say, it was not a happy film.

So I did what anyone of us would do, which is why thirty minutes later, when a producer wandered by, I was building a crude shelter out of office supplies and not wearing any pants.

“Yo,” the producer said.

“Hi,” I responded.

We stared at each other in silence for a moment. He had enough wisdom not to ask why I was trying to make fire by rubbing two staplers together.

“So,” I finally said. “I kinda assumed I was the only one here.” I gestured at my crude barrier of paper boxes. “This was in case zombies attacked.”

“Makes sense,” he said. “You do know what today is, don’t you?”

“Is it my birthday?”

“I have no idea. It’s December 7th.”

I shrugged.

“Cataclysm went live today. Everyone called in sick so they could stay home and play.”

“Ah,” I said. “Why are we still here?”

“Good question.”

Cheers,
-Jason

It's Almost Time . . .

Greetings all,

Just a reminder that we'll be announcing our new updated schedule and our plans for Wayfarer's Moon next week! Look for the update on Wednesday.

As for me, I've been sick the last couple of days with a throat thing. It hasn't been horrible, but it's one of those illnesses where you don't quite have enough energy to do anything beyond lay on the couch and watch daytime TV. And frankly, daytime TV sucks.

So, come back on Wednesday and we'll fill you in. We think you'll be surprised and delighted. Giddy, even.

Cheers,
-Jason

Omni-Directional

Some of you may have noticed that there was no blog yesterday, for which I apologize. I was otherwise occupied by fluids exploding out of my body in almost every direction.

In layman's terms, I was sick in a really horrible, liquid-intensive way. And now, before someone points this out, I don't think it was connected to the green slug of snot on my hoodie from the last blog. For one thing, the snot was green and nothing that came out of me was green. It was a medly of orange and white.

It was almost festive.

Anyway, I'm going to bed early, so I can go into work and deal with the roughly 3k emails that are now sitting in my inbox.

Look for another installment of Art the Wanderer (and this next chapter's a doozy, if I do say so myself) and the usual blogness the rest of the week.

Cheers,
-Jason

Jason is under the weather.

Hello folks! Jason is feeling under the weather at the moment, so he will not be gracing us with his normal razor sharp wit today, since he’s not honestly all that witty while he’s sleeping. Hopefully he’ll be feeling better soon and writing his stubby fingers to the bone.

-Leigh