The Freeky Geeky Files: Clipboards Level Up!
RJ: (Leans on Kronos table, satisfied) "Okay, so I may be trying to phase out my clipboard order system, but that does not mean I have to get rid of my clipboards. Oh no. They are leveling up to be Production clipboards!"
Pandora: (Her crisp voice from the main workshop monitor.) "How is that any better, RJ? You're just changing their title, not their fundamental purpose as dust collectors, or their contribution to the general clutter."
RJ: (Looks at monitor.) "Well, Pandora, I always hide my clipboards as I don't like to display customer info at all. It's just courtesy, you know? But my notes for production, no need to hide them."
Pandora: (Voice from monitor, a rare concession, then a wry sigh.) "That seems logical. True. Why hide what no one can decipher, RJ? Your handwriting remains a formidable security measure in itself."
Glitch: (Zips in, buzzing excitedly.) "Hey, Pandora! You know what RJ's handwriting and a secret map to the rubber chicken dimension has in common? They're both completely impossible to follow!"
RJ: (A wry grin, looking from Glitch to the clipboard.) "Alright, alright, you got me. My handwriting's a cryptogram. Now, about these production notes..."
Phobos: (Twitches, glowing red eyes wide with alarm, from a shadowy corner.) "Your handwriting, RJ! It's... it's a retinal hazard! Reading it could cause permanent optical damage! What if someone misinterprets a 'Weld here' for a 'Self-destruct now'?! It's a disaster in chicken scratch!"
RJ: (A slow blink at Phobos, then a resigned sigh and a wry grin.) "You know, Phobos, for a guy who predicts doom, you're pretty good at seeing the small details. Yes, my handwriting is a crime against legibility. Now, if we're done critiquing my penmanship, perhaps we can remember where I left off?"
Mopes: (Drifts in, a faint sigh.) "Your penmanship, RJ... so very... original. It saves the universe... from having to invent new forms... of disarray."
RJ: (Sighs, then a quick, wry chuckle.) "Even Mopes sees the deep, existential truth in my bad handwriting. Thanks, Mopes. You really know how to make a guy feel... useful. Now, my train of thought. Anyone seen it?"
Pandora: (Voice from monitor, a dry sigh.) "Your train of thought, RJ? I would check your notes, but... your handwriting, as we've recently established, presents a formidable encryption challenge. Perhaps it's hiding with your missing tools."
Glitch: (Zips around frantically, looking under chairs.) "Train of thought?! WOO-HOO! Did you write it down?! Like your notes?! If it looks like those, it's probably hiding in the rubber chicken dimension!"
Phobos: (Twitches, eyes wide.) "A lost train of thought! It's a cognitive hazard! What if it's trapped in a dark corner of your brain, like a secret instruction written in your handwriting?! Unreadable! That's how disasters happen!"
Mopes: (Drifts slowly, observing RJ.) "Your thoughts, RJ... like your notes... destined to scatter... before they are even fully formed. A struggle against clarity... a quiet descent... into the inevitable... illegibility."
RJ: (Looks from one character to the next, then sighs dramatically.) "You know what? I'm gonna start charging you all rent for the headspace you're taking up in my brain. Because clearly, this is getting expensive."
RJ: (Looks at the clipboard, then directly at the audience, a wry smile.) "So yeah, these clipboards are getting a new lease on life. And my handwriting? Well, let's just say it's a secret language only the truly dedicated can decipher. Or Pandora, if she tries hard enough. Hope your own organizational systems are less reliant on spontaneous acts of divine intervention, Eeeks."
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