The Intern, fetcher of coffee extraordinaire, she/her
Master
Mairon,
You
must see
Robin's reply to my letter. You simply
must. What is wrong with him?? He thinks his future wife shouldn't be literate!
'Funny Ideas', pah — I'll show him
'funny'!
With affront,
The Intern
Mairon, Maia (who is definitely not Sauron), he/him
,
Well, this is appallingly sexist, isn't it? However, I am quite confident in your ability to put the writer of this drivel in his place. Among your people, a man who dared to express such sentiments would swiftly be devoured for his temerity, would he not?
Or, if you prefer, I would be happy to reach out to him myself. As an equal-opportunity employer, it is important to me to ensure that all of my minions have the support they need to succeed in their roles. While I don't think this quite rises to the level where it would be merited to send one of our senior administrative, operational, and compliance professionals (who are definitely not Nazgûl) out to express our strong displeasure in person, sending a nasty letter undermining the no doubt already fragile masculinity of this sexist idiot is certainly the least I can do.
Provided, of course, that you want me to do so — as I said, I have full confidence in your ability to handle this dimwit yourself.
Given this new information, I am willing to revise my previous conclusion that eating this individual would not be an appropriate use of company time. It is now quite evident that devouring him would be an act in service of the greater good, and as the leader of an entirely upstanding organization, I am of course naturally inclined to support such. While I still will not approve a special leave of absence simply so that you can track down this individual and eat him, you are more than welcome to use company resources in your efforts to lure him within a reasonable walking distance.
Just don't go overboard. Standard restrictions on luring expenditures still apply.
—
M.
P.S. — After a second read, it occurs to me that given this individual's apparent lack of personal hygiene, it might be inadvisable to devour him yourself. In lieu of such, I recommend either feeding him to the spiders — or
at least giving him a bath first. I realize that you do not typically cook your meals prior to consuming them, but eating someone who hasn't bathed in weeks somehow sounds far more disgusting than simply eating people raw.
The Intern, fetcher of coffee extraordinaire, she/her
My most delicious Master
Mairon,
Oh, you're so
sweet! (*♡∀♡) What's most annoying of all is that this twit obviously isn't within a reasonable walking distance
yet. Soon... oh, I'm so hungry.
Why don't you come over here and look over the draft of my response? There might be one or two points that I'd like to
d̴̮̼͎̞̣̾́̊̓̔̀͘͜͜͜e̷̜̰̠̲̹̯̊̋̊̈̑̄͆͠v̴̢͖͕͚̲̬͇̘̠̦̜͙̼̓̆͠ò̴̜ù̶͚̖̫̜͈͕̯̺͛͒r̵̨͔̻̼̀̈͘̚͝ — I mean, pick your brain on.
S̶̝̞̤̈́̌̈́̏̆̀̐̾̍̚̚̕͝-̶̠̙͙͖̠̆̈͒̂͋̕ͅs̶̡̡̢̝̜̼̦̭͈̹̲̲͋̅̋̒̓́̏ǫ̸̨̧̢̡̟̩͙͚̙͕̜̾̎̂̌͛͊̆̍̀̿͠͠.̵͍̠̰̜̯͓̦̦͚̙̭̆̌͛̍́͊͌́͜͝.̴̧̺̱̜͎̈́̋͊̓͌́̏̊.̵̧͍̳̦̠̻͇͉̋̕͘ͅ ̸̠̘̣̘̞̼̻͋͊̿̅̀͒́̍̉͑͆͊̐̑͝ş̵̨̥̼̝͇̤͔̗̳̗̲̖̩͉͍̣̘̫͙͍̰̭̓͛̊̊̋͊́̔͗͒̿͝͝ͅo̶͈̯͓͊͗͆̈́͘ ̴̡̡̢͓̮̝̫̺̜͕̩̮̻͔̠̤̹̳̥̮͚̣̘̌̒̀͜h̶̩̠̯̲͚̫̗̹̤̱̭͙̺̞͙̝̮̞͕͑͜û̵͍̻̞͇̼͎̭͔̘͓̳͉͉̳̂̑̅̿̋̽͒̏̄͘͜͜n̷̮͉̻̣̲͔͌͒́̏̓͆͌̽̀̏̈̽͆͛͛̌͑̈́̾̅͗̕͝g̴̨̗̤̖͇̗̲̣̩̟̖̼̺͖̼̦̻͓̽̃̔̍́͗͆̄͂͌̍̈́̇́͑̌͑͗̑̚̕͜ͅr̷̡̡̡̠̻̫̟͙̘̙̭͖̲̘̗̲̝͑̍͛͐̊͂̆̽͜͜y̵̡͕̦͓͚̾̀͊̉̍͑̄̐̐̋̏.̸̩̜̗̖͙͙̥̳̞͓͕͔̬̺͔̅͗́̄̊͛̊̕.̸̡̡̛͎͙͇͎̹̝̪͇͇̠̭̯͕͉̮̰̱̼̔̈̄͊̈́̌̄̄͆͊̋̓̍̽̈́̈́̕͜͜.̵̨̫̫̣̌̓̌̄͝ ̶̡̠͔̩͙͈̮̫͚̻̈́́̀̊̈́̅̿̈̈I̷͚̟̭̳̯̰̝͍̪̬̘̦̣͕̐̀̿͆͑́͐̀͒̒͆̃̍͋̽̒͝ͅ'̷̨̧̨̰̹̲̹͎̪̰̮͙̣̝̮͐̂͋́͆̐̅͑͗́̿͋̎̀͐͑͆̿̒́̂͌͊̎̔͂͂̃͆́̒̾̅̉͘͘͘͝͝m̸̢̡̡̡͙͖͓̙͈̬̭̩͖̺̝͍̩͉̯̫͍͇̮̺̖̺̘̬̭̠͚̳̻̫͍̄̆̑̐͒͑͒͒̒̔̅́͜͝͝͠ ̵̡̧̨̨̤̯̭̲͈̭̫̭̩͓͍̲̯̗̘̰͖̻̺̮͕̘̟̝́̂̓̑̆̂̓̉͘͘͜͜͜ͅͅś̴̢̢̧̛̛̹̱͖͉̻͚͕̘͎͈̭̬̱̝̜͕͉̬̠͈̻̮͙͉̳̬̜͑͒̅̔̅̀̽̅̀̄̉̈̌͆̐̍͛͋͊̆̈̀̀̂͌̚͜͜͠͝͝ǫ̸̡̯̯͒̈́̀̇̈́̏̾̓̿̈̋̈́̌͋͆̐̌̈͛̓̾́ ̷̡̧̡̛̛͕̘̮͉̳̜͕͖̟̹̳̥͙̮͔͇͍̘̰̤̭̜̥̻̖̮̝̬͖̞̭͛̅̄͋̇̓͊̽̇̔̍̓͌̋̐͑̈̃͗͘̚͜͜h̴̢̢̢̢̧̛̖̹̣͔̟͓̘̣͕͙͓͓͎̘̝̥̪͍̓̅̏̐̌̆͗̓͂͊̋̐̐̈̅̍̐͒͆͋̿̐͗͊͂̓͂͊͑͒͑͌͘͜͠͝ͅů̶̢̡̨̡̼̗̙̰̭̳̰̫̻͇̯̤̠̭̦͎̜͓̫̫̲͍̉͆̊̆́̌͘͜͜͠ͅń̵̛̛̬̎̐̂͌͌́̐̇̅͐̊̈́́̾̓̔͌͗͊͐̓̉́̇̂̾͗́̚̕̚̕̚̚͝͠ģ̴̧̣͓̥͇̪̥̘͈̮̰̘̠͓̦̺͕̮̥͆̆͛̈́̈̄͒̂̊̊̍́̍̏̊̇͗̆͐̔͆̐̈́̕͘̚͜͜͝͝r̴̢̮̲̞̥͎̻̩̲͚̫̖̖̫̦͉̩̞͓̟̟̯͚͖̯̪̦̗̭̞͙̟̘̘̳̺̈͗̅͜ͅͅy̵̧͇̥̫͖̩͓͐̉͗̇̈́́͒͗͊̅̿͊̍͗̕͘͝͝.̷̧͍̩̼̱͉̳͚̭̙̝̬̘̞̊̾̋͒̊̾̄͗͂͐̔̿̅͐̌̃́̉͋̅̀̊͗̈̕ͅ.̴̨̧̧̡̘̹̠̖̪̲̱͕̜͍̖͇̜̯̙̝̪̗͉̰̫̫̭̿̌.̵̨̨̨͍̼̦̼̮͕̠̺͕̱̫̲̭̖̩̖̞͎͎̗̯͕͓̞͕̙͔̗̙͈̝̪͚̯͇̅͒͐̀̆̍͒͆̓̊͛̾͂̃͂̔̾̐̚͘͜͠͝͝ ̷̨̧̟̗͚̯̳͖̹͕̗̜̟͖̀͆̉̎̎̌̈͛̆͗̔̓́̿͂͜ͅm̷̡̨̨̘͖̪̠̥̯͍̦͖̱̼͖͈̞̪̥̲̈́̽͗̅͊̑͊̾̽̃̔̓̑̚ͅų̴̨̱͕̤͉̰͖͇̩̭̺̱̣͉͖͇̗̝̰̹̰̼̮̼͙̟͉̻̲̙̀̾̊̌̈́̆́̌̿̋͛̿̀̑̔̑͛̈͗͑̆͗̿̚̚̕͝͝s̴̨̡̛̛̞͚̟̟͚͉͚̦̘̠̼̫̩͖̞̩̬̘͚̘̣͔̳̟͓̲̹͉͊̈́̅̾̅͐̉̄̆͂̆̾̀̅̓̿̾́͑̔̅̏͊̔̉̏̉͋͆̈̋́̏͗̏͘͘͝͝͝t̷̨̡̡̨͎͓̼͚̤͙͙̰̤̭̥̺̤͇͍̪͈͙̰̜͎̳̹̬̘̲̖̰̹͙̪̯̲̳̜͍̝̃́̿̿̾̈́̆͐̇̆̽̈́̈́́̈́̾̅͂̋͊͗͑̈́̉̈̌̾͗̐̃̐̿͋͊̈́̚͜͝ͅ ̷̡̧̨̨̨͖̠͕͖̙͉̹̳͎͙͙̥̼̬̟͎̹͈̪̘̥͎̜͍̪̻͔̰͓͊̈́͋͐̿̾̈́̈́͒̓̀̈́̒̅e̶̟͛̏̓̀͆̒̒͒͌͝a̸̧̢̛̭̮͕̭̫͓̯̠̘̪̠͔̹̣̮͓̱̝̞̱̲̞̦̖͍̋̌̂̐͛̽̊͌̈̂̌̈́̐͌̒͐̐͑̿̈́̒̿́̀̽̈́̾͘͘͝͝ͅt̷̡̨̧̙͖̬̘̟͔̦̳̪͈̭̝̖̗͚̒͌͒̈́͂̒̈́̈́̈̀̈́͒̍͠.̵̧͓̺̣̻̙͉͇͉̣͈͙̱͍͈̦̙̻̜̱̽̑̏̆̌͘͘͝.̸͙̹̪̩̺̩̥̹̠͚̳͓̉̂̐͂̅͐͑̏̎͆̄͛͆̓̂͗̏̈́̕͘͝͝.̵̨̧̛̛̮̙̝̖̹̤̰̤͍͎͙̰͎͉̲͔̰̹̰̝͔͔͍̻̯͎̖̪̏́̓̏́̓͒̏̓̀́͑̓́́̾̂̔͂̆͊̑̏̎͑̐̎̄̀̓̒̍̓͋̓̊̀̈̾͒̌̒͋̍͗̈́͜͜ ̸̡̛̛̮͔͚̹̜̭̤̪̰̦̲̪̻̤̙͍͍̑̈́̈̓͒̓̾̍͋͗̋͒̀͗̅̏̀̿̌́͑̍̓̀̾͐͊̈́́̈̄̃̀̊̍̍̂͑̕̕̚͝͝͝͝͝F̵̧̧̨̡̛̺͕̹̺̥͖̱̼͙̥̹̻̳̗͙͖͇̬̟̳̖͔͙͇̳̝͔̜͚̦͙͚̹̬̙͓̖̲͖̝̱̙͕̮̅̔̒̅̌ͅͅͅͅL̵̨̨̢̧̨̧̨̧̡͚̟͈̩̖̬͈͖̜̻̙̟̪̣͍͍̙̖̫̰͓̫̜̜̣͈̻̼͎̗̬̩̥̰͍̦̞̟̤͎̗̬̬͈̣̮͉̦͇̞͔̝̮̠̤̠̩͇̱͕͗̓̀̿̾̈̈́̈́͆̑̆̚̚͘̕͠Ë̴̤̺̫͚̹̺̭̹̱͕̳́̽͑̂̽̌̎̈́͐͐̿̆̇̀͐̏̔̿̾̎̋̽̆́̽̏̚̕̕̕͝͝S̸̡̢̧̧̛̛̞̤̞̬̹̱̭̩̬̜͍͔̱̲̣͙͕̥͍̩̗̦͕͎̟̤̱̤̩̹͉̪̣͔̬̩͚̹̞̮̻̼̗̥̦̰̮̜͚̦̭̜̦̦̞̥̣̝͈̯͎̲͌̅̓̇͐͌͗̎̆̊͛́̀̌̀̒̅̏̈́̅̈̊́̑͌̽̊̂̆͐̇͌̋̐͆̿̆̅͌̔̊̏̐̓̔̎̌̈́̆͛̎̀̇̀̆̿̎́̾̕̚͘͘͘̕͜͠͝ͅH̵̨̧̨̥̤͇̗̞͙̯̙̭͓͙͓̼̎̈́͐͗͊͋̾̂̓̆͊̒͒̏̀̉̌̒̄̇͌̓͗̽͆͋̂̇̑̓̊͒̔͐̍̅̈́́̋̾͘̕͘̚̕̕͠ͅͅͅ.̶̧̡̡͕̥̣͇͈̳͉̟̦͔̰͐͆͂̓̊̒̅͛̓̂̈͛̇͛͂͗́̾̐̀͛̒̂̃̂̆̄̐̈͐̃̿́̍̈̍̏̚͜͠͠͝ͅ.̶̧̨̡̡̦̰͙̞͈͔̣͚͍̻̦͍͙̗̳͕̟̞̮̜͇̰͍̣̳͇̀̾͑̀̃̃̀̎͊͋̀̉̍̋̍̊̓̉̈́͂̌̓́͌͘͠͠ͅ.̶̧̨̢̧̡̰̰͍̜̯͈̦̞͇̼̲̻̮̼͔͔͕͓̬̗͖̘̗̤̱̮͓̗̯̳͇͕̭̱͓͈͔̖͖̰̼̟̙̣̤̗̎͋̾̈̌̍̍̽͛̉͒̏̆͐́̒̉̐͒̒̈̓͂͘̚͘͘ͅ
Oh-so-invitingly,
The Intern
Mairon, Maia (who is definitely not Sauron), he/him
Intern—
First, no. Second, no. Third, absolutely not. As we discussed during your probationary period, it is prohibited by company policy to eat your boss, Steve from Accounting, or any other employee(s) or affiliate(s) of this company.
Fourth, assuming you didn't already eat the departmental courier (which is fine, I was about to fire him anyway), you have a paid lunch break — use it. Regardless of whether you ate the courier,
continue to use it henceforth. That is literally why it's there.
—
M.
The Intern, fetcher of coffee extraordinaire, she/her
Master
Mairon,
Sorry about that. I was hungry because I woke up late today and didn't get the chance to catch breakfast, but next time I'll be sure to just eat someone on the way to work. The lunch you sent was delicious — thank you for sending him to me! I'll have to return the favor sometime.
Returning to the original subject, of course I'll respond to the twerp! What a silly little morsel he is. I have half a mind to see if I can locate the real Marion, too. I'd like to reach out to her in a sisterly way, about how much
better life can be when women are literate, independent, and devour those who think them inferior. Thoughts?
With mild chagrin,
The Intern
P.S. — Don't you worry about
Robin's hygiene. You must have grown up in a good neighborhood, Master
Mairon — when I was growing up, my family would never have wasted potable water on bathing, let alone bathing our
meals. Blood was far more abundant, so we typically used that if necessary.
Mairon, Maia (who is definitely not Sauron), he/him
Intern,
You're welcome, and no worries. Please do not return the favor, as I prefer my food a) cooked, b) cleaned, and c) unquestionably deceased. Do continue to eat regular meals, and let me know if you're having any trouble catching them. As the leader of an entirely upstanding organization, it is important to me to ensure that none of our employees go hungry.
Yes, you may put out some inquiries regarding this 'Marion'. I'm rather skeptical about the likelihood of success, however, as it seems likely that this woman can't read. Perhaps try putting out a notice in pictographs. Do not make expenditures for this beyond the routine use of company equipment and networks, as greater good or no, I am considering this other endeavor a pet project of yours until such a time as it actually produces results.
I'm not even going to touch the postscript about the bloodbaths. That seems...
incredibly unsanitary rather beyond the scope of this email. Perhaps we can put the subject of funding water supplies for your neighborhood on the agenda for my next Board of Director meeting — you know, the one attended by me, myself, and I.
—M.
The Intern, fetcher of coffee extraordinaire, she/her
Master
M.,
You've got it, boss!
—
Intern
The Intern, fetcher of coffee extraordinaire, she/her
My darling, scrumptious
Robin,
Oh, my delicious sweetheart, I beg of you — rebuke me not for my newfound literacy! It were only for
the exquisitely sweet taste of your blood love of you that I took up my Letters. So many tears I have pour'd forth over every Token of you, every sweetly tormenting reminder of your beloved presence — such weeping that I fear'd mine eyes would run dry, my love, for my grief in your absence could fill Oceans. Unbearable it was to imagine that
I might not be able to devour you a single Word from you might pass me by for fault of my own poore Education — no rest could I find in comforts of Couch or Bed till I sought and mastered, poorly as I may, the Words which you wield as well as any sworde.
Yet now — o, my dearest, how terrible is the icy Blade which pierces my heart when I imagine that you might be cross with me — how swiftly do I swoon upon that Couch. Stricken am I then, as a Doe caught unawares by the hunter's feathered Shaft
as I hope you soon will be, for how I salivate to imagine crunching your bones between my teeth — and oh, how my hands do tremble to hold the embroidery needle. Yet how dearly do I feel I must fulfill your request, to give you some means by which to fondly remember me... and I say to myself,
I must go on.
The fruits of my labor are enclosed, my darling, my delicious morsel, and I can but pray that they will bring you hither to my arms.
Adoringly yours,
Marion
Enclosed:
Embroidery (Cross Stitch) #1
Embroidery (Cross Stitch) #2
