I once did live action roleplay as a character named Melba (named like the toast), who was the Supreme Commander of an alien invasion fleet. Melba was going places.
This is a work of fiction. Although its form is that of an alien infiltration log, it is not one. Space and time have been rearranged to suit the convenience of the story, and with the exception of public events and brand names, any resemblance to situations and silly creatures living or dead is coincidental. The opinions expressed are those of the character and should not be confused with the author’s. You can not expect the character to give up their cover so easily. Nice try though.
Phase I
1
Day 1 of corporate infiltration: They suspect nothing.
2
Day 2 of corporate infiltration: The majority of my time was spent in meetings. There are many obscure business-specific acronyms. I will attempt to crack this secret code.
3
Day 3 of corporate infiltration: Secret code cracked. I have successfully cleared the first bureaucracy dungeon level. Silly creatures, thinking that they can thwart me with mere paper.
4
Day 4 of corporate infiltration: It was “Casual Friday.” In the latest trial of passing as human, I was asked if I would like to go rock climbing. This would be an excellent camaraderie experience to further blend with the silly creatures. I accepted.
Human Resources tracked me down with some strange extra assurances because one of the forms I filled out flagged me as Kinda Gay™ (my words, not theirs; they’re all cool people so far).
16
Day 16 of corporate infiltration: I politely laughed when someone in the office passionately exclaimed “What is the day before coffee?!” It’s worth noting that I don’t drink coffee, so this daily ritual has no meaning to me, but I grasp the cultural significance. Smooth.
17
Day 17 of corporate infiltration: I have stumbled upon the rare bathroom tissue nest of a germaphobe. Watch out for those toilet seat germs. I would like to talk to this creature about CaviCide, butt I can find no appropriate way to start that conversation.
25
Day 25 of corporate infiltration: I have discovered that the most sought after commodities in this dry and static-charged environment are: Kleenex and batteries. They are kept under lock and key in the reception area instead of in any of the regular supply rooms.
Inevitably when the juice ran dry on my cybernetic augmentations, I had to begin the Trial of Replenishment. Unfortunately I was ill-prepared for this trial (read: I’m awkward as fuck), which meant that instead of greeting me with a hi, or hello, reception immediately opened with “What’s wrong?”
My facial expression had betrayed me. I am perhaps not as undetectable in this human meat sack as I was leading myself to believe. While I was able to recover from this gaffe, reception may now suspect something. I must be more cautious.
66
Day 66 of corporate infiltration: The kitchenette is around the corner from my office. Silly creatures often congregate between 11 and 12 to heat up their midday meals. The smells are varied, but often quite good and have the unexpected benefit of reminding me to seek nourishment for this human meat sack.
At 2:20 pm, (well past what I have learned is normal food time) someone saw fit to heat up “something” that smelt like a warm bin of dead crickets smeared with fresh shit. I do not know what it was, nor why someone would want to ingest something like that. One can assume it was a form of sadomasochism.
It permeated the entire floor. Slamming into people and assaulting their senses.
It made my eyes water and also triggered my gag reflex which was most unpleasant. Somehow this food managed to disrupt the entire work force in less than five minutes and not even the separated meetings rooms were safe. (Huffing dry erase markers offered minimal solace.)
This story has a happy ending. The culprit was found and was told that they couldn’t eat whatever that was inside anymore. This is good because previously the only forbidden food was “orange.”
I am certain that orange will enjoy having company in exile.
125
Day 125 of corporate infiltration: It has been a long, arduous journey, however I am pleased to announce that I have achieved a new milestone: I have been entrusted with the care of a colleagues’ plants while they are on vacation.
I have uncovered a Sales secret: whenever the weather is 25°C and Sales is toughing it out wearing a blazer underneath the relentless sun… it simply means that they did not have time to iron their shirt that morning. A wrinkly shirt is a major faux pas and for some reason silly creatures would rather overheat than risk displaying a shirt wrinkle.
Speaking of Work Costumes, I have been given an article for the upcoming Calgary Stampede. It came with a warning out of the crisis handbook, as while wearing it, I am considered a Company Representative. Despite internet being a major facilitator of porn, this company would prefer it if we were to not wear branded shirts while partaking in visible things that may reflect “poorly” on the company as a whole. (So, get naked or wear something else for public group sex).
However, I do find one thing concerning about the shirt. It has arrows over my human meat sack’s chest. Are they to ward off malevolent gazes? Logic dictates that they ought to be openings for pockets… yet it is merely decorative embroidery. I fear as though the shirt has fallen prey to the Gender Politics of Pockets. Fake pockets. WHY? You took pant pockets. Wasn’t that enough?
142
Day 142 of corporate infiltration: I had to login to Facebook at work to access the developer platform. I am becoming increasingly aware of my colleagues’ poop schedules.
This is not the path to enlightenment I had in mind.
162
Day 162 of corporate infiltration: I now feel confident in my ability to survive the cold, long dark.
170
Day 170 of corporate infiltration: I have gained access to the upper echelon of this corporation as evidenced by their accolades and my inclusion in key stakeholder meetings.
I am positioned and in such a way, that I am now integral to their mission success. Fools.
New game plus: some of my written propaganda is currently being circulated as truth. Next I shall have their minds!
Phase II
There were those of you who doubted me. There were even those who implied that I had been assimilated. However, it was necessary to go deep and gain the trust and acceptance of the silly creatures. It is a real danger to be consumed if you do not have the mettle. It has not been without extreme risk and there were several times when a quirk or two nearly had me discovered. The results, my esteemed friends, have been glorious.
I have fully infiltrated the house of the upper echelon. Everything is within my grasp. You laughed, but now it is I with the many intentional breath-sound-spasms.
Heh heh heh heeeh.