"MUCH KNOCK KNOCK."

I look up from the stack of papers that I was only halfway through to see the giant monstrosity, the beast with the dog(e) head standing up straight and staring through the glass back at me. With a roll of the eyes and the sound of me dropping the writing utensil atop the summit of stationery, I force myself to respond in the way it wants me to.

"Who's there?"

"MUCH INTERRUPTING DOGERLORD."

"Much interrupting doge-"

"MUCH RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH."

Sarcastic round of applause goes here. Fake laugh, also.

"Brilliant! Truly, brilliant."

"WOW. MUCH SARCASM."

"What? Me, being sarcastic?"

The giant fist of the Dogerlord slams against the glass window, bending it without breaking the glass. Okay, message received, no more sarcasm. Sheesh! Just about this point, my phone decides to ring. Who the fuck would be calling me at 2 in the god damn morning? I pull the phone out of my pocket and stare intently at the caller ID name programmed to match the number: Cumball. It is at this point I want to point out my overwhelming maturity. Has that been addressed thoroughly enough? Good. Moving on.

I shake my free hand wildly at the Dogerlord, hoping that it takes that as a sign to shut the fuck up like I intended it to do, and answer the phone.

"What the fuck bro?" Trevor, AKA Cumball, asks in his usual stoned off his dick voice as soon as I press the phone to my ear.

"What the fuck what?"

"I thought we were gonna hit the club after you got off work."

"I am still at work, thank you very much."

"STILL? You better be fuckin' that boss of yours then."

"Nah mate, I'm not too keen on having my dick removed from my body with aid of a machete."

"Dude, your boss can't be that fucking psycho."

"Dude, yeah she can."

"Then why are you still working for her?"

Hmm, that was a good question. Shit, that'll get the readers to question my motives that were never defined and won't ever be defined! Fuck, my inner thoughts are broadcast over some magic interdimensional bullfuckery with cloud pirates and rainbow stripclubs! Um, quick, to deflect it with some vague bit of truth or something!

"Cuz she'll fucking kill me if I try to quit."

Oh, wait. I didn't need to do anything rash. That is the reason I put up with her insanity. Fucking A, I'm a full time idiot.

"MUCH AGREE!"

"What the fuck was that?"

"My snarky, science project."

"What?"

"Nothing, talk to you later."

"But-"

I hang up the phone without even thinking of waiting for him to finish whatever half thought was on his mind. The Dogerlord hops around like a maniac in his cell, banging his head against the ceiling with each half thought out hop. I have literally no idea what on earth it's trying to accomplish but if his goal isn't to achieve even more brain damage than what is already there, it's failing miserably by my approximation. Right, back to the glorious task of paperwork, which was exactly what I was doing before getting put on this pet project.

It's like I never even left my office.

Only I did.

And it's two in the fucking morning.

And I'm stuck here with a fucking abomination.

"MUCH INSULT. SO RUDE. WOW."

Who can somehow read my mind. Fuck, this is the worst night of my life.

"MUCH MOPE."

"How about you go so fuck yourself?"

"U FRIST."

"You know what? I fucking hate you."

With that, and not a word more, I drop down to my knees, pick up the utensil, and go back to filling out this fucking paperwork. If I'm lucky, I'll finish this before sunrise and Tigris won't have a reason to skin me alive.

"MUCH OVER EXAGGERATE. SO DEFAMATION. WOW."

Then again, I could always just smash my head against the wall until I bleed out my eye sockets and my brain turns to mush.

"NO PLS."