Episode 50 - Receptionist, Gatekeeper, Guardian

The man at the front desk wore a badge that read: "Tom – Solutions Advisor"

He smelled like new car interiors and ambition.

His briefcase gleamed. His shoes squeaked. His hair had been convinced to do something it clearly didn’t want to do.

“I just need five minutes,” he said cheerfully. “Really more of a courtesy call—just here to talk about your office supply needs, make sure your station is getting the best deal on toner, cartridges, breakroom items, that kind of thing.”

Olivia blinked once.

Then smiled.

“Of course,” she said, setting down her pen. “Let me just check our current supply logs.”

She typed something. Nothing. She didn’t need to.

Tom didn’t notice.

“We’re actually a bit low on white noise transducers,” she said thoughtfully. “And our plasma reel spools are aging out of sync with standard causality—do you carry those?”

He blinked.

“Uh… we’ve got Post-Its?”

“Oh. We’ve got ghosts for that.”

She held his gaze.

Her ears twitched slightly.

He began to sweat.

By the third minute, he was babbling about a new line of ergonomic chairs designed for human lumbar support.

She handed him a flyer for the station’s chair policy: “Standing or floating is preferred. Sitting optional, advised against.”

At the five-minute mark, Charles passed behind the desk, quietly humming in reverse.

At six minutes, Bernard floated past with a reel labeled “CONVERSATIONS THAT NEVER SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED” and gave Tom a look that curled the man’s tie.

At minute seven, Tom stood.

“Well, you’ve all been… very kind. I’ll just… follow up… never.”

He left behind a stress ball shaped like a smiling human heart.

Olivia fed it to the mail cart, as a treat.

She sat back down, tail flicking lazily.

The front door opened again.

This time, it was different.

A woman in a stiff suit. Hair pulled back tight enough to strain. Clipboard in hand. Eyes already scanning. Not in wonder. In judgment.

“Hello,” she said. “Federal Communications Commission. We received an anonymous tip about an unlicensed broadcast irregularity. I’m here to conduct a preliminary compliance assessment.”

Olivia smiled sweetly.

“Oh, you are going to have so many questions.”

She reached for the special visitor form.

It glowed faintly.