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"The moose has escaped! It's running amok in the office!"
Antlers fly through the filing system as its hooves kick big chunks from the door.
The cry goes up, "Why do we keep a moose in here anyway? It can hardly be cost effective."
It stands proud upon the desk baring down on us with an evil look in its eye and steam in its nostrils. The low styrofoam ceiling is torn up. The moose is confused.
George from accounts stands behind him with an inflated brown paper bag. He claims he knows what he's doing.
POP!
It's wild again, and bursting through the plasterboard wall in a shower of dust. Just the smell of it is exciting.
Next door: "Well I think that an 8.5% return is a tough target in today's market, in fact I think that outsourcing the department is big mistake in these economic con... shit, MOOSE!"
A crowd of people runs before it, managers and temps alike. It skitters and flails its back legs in the air as it tries to run on the linoleum floor of the lobby. The girls at the fake coffee cart duck low and peep above the condiments, and whisper to one another "Moose? They smell fear, don't they?"
In a rage it bursts into the magazine stand sending 'Maxim', 'Max Power' and 'Loaded' into the air in a fountain of women in bras and g-strings. 'What Car? Magazine' 'Which life?' and 'Himalayan Sherpa Enthusiast' tumble to the floor in disgust.
The drinks fridge falls and from under the corpse 'Doctor Pepper' spills out like blood.
"No! All I wanted was a 'Doctor pepper'!"
But the moose is deaf to cries for mercy. I AM MOOSE! HEAR ME ROAR! Siding down between the escalators it makes its way to the food hall.
This could have been predicted. "There should have been a moose contingency plan, why is there nothing to tell us what to do?"
George holds up another paper bag.
"Don't do it, George!"
"I know what I'm doing," he says with a grin.
Article by Dann Casswell.
