International Snack Box

I am sitting at my desk watching the molasses-like spin of the clock, thinking about the best international snack box I ever had, when some noise comes from the office of my boss. Some would even call it a ruckus. Gregory, my boss, springs from his office, snapping me from my international snack box daydream. “I won!” he shouts, doing a whirl and a little jump for joy. “I won the radio contest!” He lunges over to my computer where I had been on amazon for some international snacks online. He clicks purchase on one and says, “No worries, I’ll cover those international snacks. I’ll cover whatever now!” But then he suddenly grows quiet, realizing something. He looks around the office, does some addition and subtraction in his head, and then claps his hands together. “Yep, that’s it for me then. I’m out.” And with that he walks out of the office. For a few minutes we all just wait, occasionally dispelling an awkward laugh to break the tension. We all expect him to come back. Gregory has always been a weird little fella. But as the clock spins on the realization that we are left boss-less is beginning to set in. Some of us just go back to work as if nothing was awry, some of us (me) turn to games on our computers. What was weird was that a few guys quit as well, still following the lead of our boss despite him not being our boss anymore. It is punishingly quiet in the office. I stand up from my chair and say, “So, anyone wanna talk about that?” Hardly anyone bothers to look my way. I guess these people really didn’t care about Gregory. I shrug and say, “Anyone got a movie?”

So the first day went like that. It isn’t until the next morning, when Gregory still isn’t back, that people start to think about the implications of this. “Do we tell corporate?” someone asks. No one really cares for that idea. Someone had brought in some snackmagic though, so we sit and feast, getting nice and lazy for the day ahead. At around the same time my international snack box no subscription arrives at the door. The charge is a whopping four-hundred dollars and there is no Gregory around to “cover” it. Great. I hide in a storage closet and go at my snack box like a sewer rat goes at priceless pule cheese. When I emerge it seems half the office is in a food coma while the other is panicking about the situation. I side with the coma gang and follow suit. As I nap I have a terrible dream that Gregory runs back into the office and orders me another healthy snack box no subscription without paying. It’s traumatizing. I wake up with tears streaming down my face. Suddenly I realize Gregory is a jerk, always was. But now we’re free to do whatever we want.

Now, with all of this free time on our hands and no one to tell us what to do, me and my coworkers find ourselves with all too many ideas. I suggest we have a “customize your own snack box” day, but it seems no one else cares about healthy snack box ideas like I do. But then a knock on the door. Outside is another snack box gift for me. I could have sworn that Gregory clicked on a international snack box one-time purchase, but apparently it is a monthly deal. Oh god. Another charge of four-hundred dollars. Who would ever actually afford and desire this deal? I take the damn snacks and throw this batch to the wolves. After my four-hundred dollars have been eaten up Brad mentions that he brought in a board game. It has never before been opened and Brad has been saving it for the right moment. When asked what the name is, Brad answers, “Well…it doesn’t exactly translate to english. It’s from some dead language…it’s kind of like…Bridge of Worlds.” There is absolutely nothing ominous about that so several of us agree to give it a shot.

The board is a mess of color and texture. Conjoined by tiny white bridges there is the Cloud Mountains, the Space Whirlpool, the Desert Island, the City Under The Sea, and the Ice Country. Dennis finishes up the last bit of my customizable international snack box and I have a great idea. “Hey Dennis. If I beat you you have to take on my customizable snacks subscription.” Dennis is slower than most, so he takes this as a win-win. “Healthy snack boxes for adults? Heck, I’ll take them off your hands either way.” Then Dennis rolls the dice to begin the game. “Come on, give me a customizable snack box baby.” He rolls snake-eyes. Brad’s eyes dart to the dice from a pamphlet he has been quietly studying. “Uh-oh,” is all he says. There is a sound from the ceiling as if a storm was brewing but the day is sunny and clear. Out from the ceiling tiles bursts a swarm of hornets the size of cats. They’re so big they fly over to Dennis and pick him up off the floor. They break through a window and carry him off, up, up, up into the sky.

There goes my imported snack box deal. Now I’m stuck with these monthly snack subscription boxes from around the world unless I can get another sucker to take on the deal. I ask Katie if she wants to make the bet, she asks me if it’s an international snack box with drinks. I say no, she spits in her hand and slaps me across the face. “No drinks,” she says with disgust. “How can you get one with no drinks? Sicko.” Then she rolls the dice and gets a three and a four. Brad looks up again from his pamphlet. He sucks his teeth and says, “Ooh, ouch.” What the hell does that mean? Then a gush of water pours in from the bathroom. Like, a whole river. The office is filled to the desk-line, then we see little blurs darting around underwater. I lunge down to grab one and pull out a piranha. Someone throws a munchpak at it but it’s hunger won’t be so easily satisfied. I chuck it out the window but there are many more. Suddenly Katie shrieks and is pulled under by the piranhas. Just like that the piranhas, the water, and Katie disappear.

So now everyone is covered in hornet stings, the office is ruined with water damage, and I still am burdened with monthly snack subscription boxes. I ask Brad why we should keep playing this game, now that two of us have been abducted by magically appearing animals. Brad just looks at me with confusion twisting his face, “Buddy, you’re the one who brought us this game. It came in one of your best snack subscription boxes and you insisted we play.” That makes no sense. That can’t be true. But then I look down…in my hands is the pamphlet of rules. I hear Brad say, “The only way out is through,” but when I look up he is gone. Where is Brad? Who is Brad? Was Brad ever real? Of course Brad’s real, he was my best man at my wedding. His wife and my wife are in book club together. Right? Right? Oh god. I read something at the bottom of the pamphlet that catches my eye. “Snack boxes for remote employees… don’t trust your eyes.” What on God’s green earth does that mean? I know that the only thing I can do is continue with the game.

I am alone in the Bridge of Worlds. I play all night. I forget what the real world is like. My snack subscription box dilemma seems to seep into the gameplay more and more. I roll the dice and earn more healthy snack boxes for employees which are dropped off by pelicans. Nothing makes sense anymore. I am eating my healthy snack box in the early hours of the morning when Gregory shows up. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks me, and I ask him the same. “Well…turns out that radio contest was a scam. By a scam I mean I spent all the money in a matter of two days. Yeah, five million. I knew sending my step-dad hurdling into the sun in a rocket probably wasn’t worth the money. Oh well, live and learn.” I see that I am one dice roll away from the end of the game. I roll double sixes and fall into the Space Whirlpool. “Where is Dennis, and Katie…and Brad?” I ask Gregory. He just looks at me. “Who?” I burn the board game in the bathroom trash can, adjust my tie, and sit down at my desk.