“Yes, come in. I thought I told you to—”

“I did. Mostly. And eventually.”

“Really”, said the boss. “Look out there!”

And he pulled the blinds open, and instead of the communist dirigibles that I had been expecting, I saw that the whole firmament was full of planets, comets and stars whizzing and popping and going out like so many kids' toys. Jupiter exploded in slow motion, firing out debris that caused its moons to spin off course and crash into each other and get in the way of other planets. It was terrible.

“Wow!” I said.

“‘Wow’, yes, you might say that—and it's all your fault!”

“Well, not all of it.”

“No, don't give me that. It's your fault. Planets just don't collide with each for no reason. And that's what's been going on all morning. Because of your tardigrade and desultory work habits. Now, what I want you to do—”

Partly right. Have to own up to some of it, I guess.

Labels: Blame Game