The internal auditor was frowning. He was the bright spot in Cliff's claustrophobic, concrete colored cubicle.

"How was the audit?" asked Cliff. He struggled to keep his voice business-like, restraining his hope for good news.

The day he started as a temporary employee, turning this assignment into a real job became his obsession. Cliff came in early and left late, worked through lunch, strove for perfection--all with the hope of eventual full-time employment.

The auditor's face darkened like the sky during a tornado warning. "There were no errors."

Cliff exploded into a broad grin. "That's good, right?"

"No, that's not good, right?" mimicked the auditor. "My job is to identify errors. What happens when I don't find any?"

Cliff's grin evaporated. "I don't--"

"I'm not doing my job, that's what. You know what happens then?"

Cliff's evaporated grin condensed into a frown. "I don't--"

"They're terminated."  The auditor stuck the file under his arm and marched out of the cubicle maze.

Cliff plopped into his chair. A clean audit is a bad thing? He shook his head at the contradiction and turned on his computer.

Popping up on the screen, a large red box warned him of an Email message.

This time it wasn't another cheerily obfuscating memo from the President, or another bizarre policy announcement by Personnel. It said "Meet with Human Resources at 10:00 a.m."

"YES!" His victory shout was sucked into the vacuum of row after row of grey-walled workstations. He didn't
notice. After the perfect audit, all the hard work.the meeting could only be about a job offer.

At precisely ten o'clock Cliff pulled open the door to Human Resources. He sank to his ankles in plush carpeting. Offices the size of hotel suites stretched into the distance, the expansive hallway decorated with sculptures and elaborate plantings of tropical flowers.  From somewhere, a chamber orchestra played soothing music.

"Second office on the right."

Cliff searched for the voice. In the distance, a woman at a marble desk the size of a billiard table pointed down the hall. He followed her directions, stopping at a closed office door. He hesitated, took a deep breath, and went inside.

He plunged into darkness. A brilliant beam of light shown in his face, blinding him.  Squinting, he stepped backward into the wall.  Instantly, metal bands snapped around him, restraining Cliff like a lab animal.

"Thank you for coming," said a voice.

"We've heard complaints about you," said another.

Cliff turned his head away from the scorching light.

"The auditor said I had no errors-"

"Insensitive!" interrupted a third voice.

"Your performance makes other employees feel threatened, insecure."

"It hurts their feelings," added the first voice.

"I don't understand," stammered Cliff.

"Your perfect performance is unacceptable. It's insensitive to the mediocrity of your fellow employees."

"This is your first and only official unofficial warning," warned the second voice.

"Another complaint will be cause for termination."

"But, I'm not an employee-"

The restraints disappeared and Cliff was thrust out the door.  Blinking, he found himself in the Human Resources hallway.  His hands were shaking and his heart racing. After resting against the wall for a moment, he stumbled
to the exit.  The murderous glare of the woman at the marble desk followed him.

He wended his way through the cubicle maze to his workstation.  For a moment he sat in his chair, but found himself crawling out of his skin. What the hell.everybody else took cigarette breaks. It's time to start smoking again.

At the loading dock behind the building he found his fellow workers. Besides smoking, employees drank sodas, ate bags of chips or miniature cookies.Conversations about TV shows, sex-partners, and ex-spouses flourished. He begged a bent cigarette and borrowed a lighter.

Cliff inhaled deeply, letting the white, carcinogen-laden smoke do its job.

He ignored the multiple conversations, clearing his mind of anything but the cigarette.  When it had shrunk to the filter nub, he crushed it on the wall, and flicked the dead stub into the street. After a final deep breath he left. Everybody else continued with their third cigarette, pictures of their cousin's children, and conversations of movies they hadn't seen.

He threaded his way through the cubicle maze, relying on imperfections in the ceiling for landmarks. He arrived to see the woman from Human Resources--the one from behind the marble desk--standing at his chair, arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently.

"You have a meeting with the Employment Director," she said. Turning, she disappeared into the cubicle jungle.  Cliff followed.

In Human Resources, the chamber orchestra had been replaced with a piano and flute. The woman paused at a different office and motioned Cliff to enter.

Opening the door, he was sucked inside.

Blackness enveloped him, then a light shown above his head.  A hand offered a sheaf of papers.

"Federal tax information. State Tax, city tax. Employment tax. Tax tax. Benefits worksheet. Employee indemnification--"

"I'm an employee?" squeaked Cliff.

"On completion of the necessary forms," said the voice.

For heartbeats Cliff stood shocked, reverently holding the forms making him a REAL employee. Then, he started filling out forms, printing block letters in rows of squares, signing where required.

Finished, he held out the papers into the dark. They were snatched from his hand.

"You have been warned about your performance," said the voice.

"I.I haven't done anything since we-"

"You smoked only one cigarette.  How do you think the other employees felt?"

"Only ten minutes," whispered the second voice.

"We warned you about being insensitive to the feelings of you co-workers."

"You made them feel guilty about their longer cigarette breaks," admonished the second voice.

Cliff's shock, amazement, puzzlement, exploded into anger. "Hold on," he shouted. "You're telling me-"

"As an employee, being offensive to others is cause for termination," said the third voice.

"Termination," echoed another.

Cliff heard the trap-door swoosh open, and felt the floor drop beneath him.