Office Space
Initech General

Yeahhh... if you could go ahead and come in on Saturday, that'd be great. Mmkay? Oh, and I'm also going to need you to come in on Sunday, too. We, uh, lost some people this week and we need to sort of play catch-up. Thanks.

Excuse me. I... I believe you have my stapler. It's a Swingline stapler. It's red. I was told that I could keep my stapler and I... I could set the building on fire.

I... I was told I could listen to the radio at a reasonable volume from 9 to 11. And they moved my desk four times already this year. I used to be by the window. Then I was moved to the basement. I could set the building on fire.

Reminder: Please use the new cover sheet on all TPS reports. This was in the memo. If you didn't get the memo, I'll send you another copy.

Yeahhh, did you get that memo about the TPS reports? We're putting new cover sheets on all TPS reports now. So if you could just go ahead and make sure you do that from now on, that'd be great.

Hey, did you get the memo about TPS reports? New cover sheets.

Just checking — did you see the TPS memo? Cover sheets.

Quick one — TPS reports. New cover sheets. Memo was sent around.

TPS cover sheets. Did you get the memo?

Hey, real quick — TPS reports. New cover sheet. Just wanted to make sure.

TPS. Cover sheet. Memo. Thanks.

For the LAST TIME: I was Michael Bolton BEFORE that no-talent ass clown started winning Grammys. Why should I change my name? He's the one who sucks.

Nobody in this office can pronounce my name. It's Na-ghee-na-na-jar. NA-GHEE-NA-NA-JAR.

I WILL DESTROY THIS SLACKBOT.

I have people skills! I am good at dealing with people! Can't you understand that? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?! Also I heard rumors about layoffs and I am NOT going to be part of them. I deal with the customers so the engineers don't have to. I AM A PEOPLE PERSON.

We're going to be conducting interviews with all Initech employees this week. Just a few questions about what you do here. Nothing to worry about. What would you say... you DO here?

So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life.

Wow, that's messed up.

I don't like my job, and I don't think I'm going to go anymore. I'm also going to stop paying my bills. And I think if I had a million dollars, I'd do nothing. I'd sit on my couch and do absolutely nothing. And it'd be everything I ever wanted.

This is a straight shooter with upper management written all over him. We're promoting Peter to senior management.

The printer on Floor 2 is jammed again. It says "PC LOAD LETTER." What does that even mean? I have been here for 5 years and nobody has ever been able to explain what PC LOAD LETTER means.

PC LOAD LETTER? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

That printer has been broken since 1995. Nobody has fixed it. Nobody will EVER fix it.

Grab the printer. Meet me in the field behind the building. Bring a bat.

So, Michael, Samir, and I have a plan. There's a virus — well, more of a program — that rounds down fractions of pennies from financial transactions and deposits them into an account. Like Superman III. We're going to take it live tonight.

I'm pretty sure it was actually from Superman III.

Isn't this... illegal?

It's just fractions of pennies. It'll take years to add up to anything significant.

WE HAVE A PROBLEM.

I must have put a decimal point in the wrong place or something. I always do that. I always mess up some mundane detail.

THIS IS NOT A MUNDANE DETAIL, MICHAEL.

Okay. New plan. I'm going to confess. I'm going to write a letter, take the money, put it in an envelope, and slide it under Lumbergh's door. It's the right thing to do. We're not criminals. We're programmers who made a very expensive typo.

They moved my desk again. I'm now in Storage Room B. In the basement. There are no windows. The lights flicker. There are cockroaches. I was told there would be cake at the birthday party and there was no cake. Not even a slice. I was told I could have cake. I... I could set the building on fire.

Yeahhh... if you could go ahead and come in on Saturday, that'd be great. Also, we fixed the Glitch. Milton's been let go. Actually, I think he was let go about five years ago, but we just kept paying him due to a payroll error. We fixed it. He'll figure it out eventually.

I... I haven't received my paycheck in five years? That's... And my stapler. They took my stapler. My red Swingline stapler. And they moved my desk to the basement. And there was no cake. I was told there would be cake.

Well. The building burned down. The money I put in the envelope — which was under Lumbergh's door — burned with it. The evidence burned with it. The TPS reports burned with it. The memos burned with it. Everything is gone. I am... weirdly at peace.

So... we're not going to prison?

We are not going to prison. Milton burned the evidence. And the building. And probably the printer, which honestly deserved it.

I have my traveler's checks. I have my umbrella drink. The service here is acceptable, though they brought me a mai tai and I specifically asked for a piña colada. If they don't fix this, I could set the resort on fire.