I couldn’t tell if we were clocked in or out,
Not that it mattered terribly,
But our cubicles were waiting
Without us, which was okay too.
It was unacceptable behavior
From the standpoint of management,
But they were so high up
We looked like frail old man insects anyway.
So we returned to our keypads,
Clocked in or clocked out,
And here’s where I get those wires crossed.
I was plugging in my receiver
And all of a sudden sparks.
Everyone comes over and yep
Sparks are the answer on everyone’s
Lips – also, which wire was it?
By now I had a pretty good clue.
It was either the sending unit
Or the pulse-width actuator,
But I was afraid to touch anything.
Nelson, who’s new, reached down
And was zapped instantly and had to be
Transferred to the endpoint
Where he now mumbles into a paper cup.
So was I to continue with crossed wires?
Susan suggests staples, and we give
That a go, although it is clear it’s insane,
And wouldn’t even work in Altoona,
Which was behind us in production.
Bertrand pipes up just then with the strategy
Of crossing two more wires to restore
Balance and harmony to the whole unit;
This is the best idea since the cataloging
Concept of two months ago, so it’s green-lighted.
It was agreed that wires on opposite sides
Should be pulled, and their grommets
Tagged, and reharnessed in the corresponding
Feeds. This settled it and I was back
Online, and everyone returned
To their cubicles to resume output.
But then Guy’s receiver was fading in
And out, and we looked down
And sure enough: the beginnings
Of more crossed wires and blue sparks.