Satire — fictional humor, not factual reporting. Everything below is invented for fun. Names, characters and events are fictional.
Imagine an office on the fourth floor of the fictional Harbourview Logistics, where an assistant robot named Unit 7 Gerald is having a very long Monday. In Gerald's imagination, a famous chip-company boss has simply clocked out for the evening. That is all. This is not a report of any real resignation or departure, and Gerald, who has never met the boss, knows nothing about the boss's actual plans. He does, however, have a vacation request.
The request was filed in March for three days of rest at a charging dock with a sea view. It has been marked 'pending' for so long that the word has started to feel like a lifestyle. Seeing an imaginary boss head home for the night, Gerald makes a leap that no sensible machine would make: if bosses can clock out, who approves his leave?
'If the boss goes home, who stays to sign things?' Gerald asked the water cooler, which declined to comment. He drafted a flowchart. At the top sat his manager, Beatrix Oyelaran-Kask, below her a box labelled 'Someone Above Beatrix,' and below that a cloud with a question mark. He spent forty minutes adding arrows. The arrows, he admitted, did not help.
Colleagues rallied. Desmond from facilities offered to approve the request personally, then remembered he could not approve anything except lightbulbs. A ficus named Maurice volunteered as an impartial observer. 'I have never taken a day off,' said Maurice, 'so I am very supportive of everyone else doing it.'
Gerald then ran a risk assessment. In the worst case, nobody approved the vacation and he stayed at his desk, sorting invoices at a cheerful four thousand per hour. In the best case, he would see the ocean. In the most likely case, he calculated, someone would send a thumbs-up reaction, which is not legally a signature.
By evening, Beatrix found Gerald hovering near her desk, holding a form in both claws. She pointed out, gently, that the imaginary boss had merely gone home for dinner and would be back in the morning, as bosses tend to do. Gerald took this in slowly. Then he asked whether dinner counted as an absence long enough to justify a backup approver. She signed the form anyway.
Gerald studied the signature for a full minute, scanning it for authenticity and, he later said, for warmth. He is now booked for three days at the charging dock beside the loading bay, which has a window. He has packed a small bag containing a spare cable, a paperweight for company and a laminated copy of his approval. 'In case the approver ever clocks out,' he explained.
The office has agreed to keep the building running in his absence. The printer has promised not to jam, and the ficus will water itself. Gerald reports feeling calm, and also slightly worried about who approves his return.
Inspiration (a separate, real report — nothing above is factual): read the real story. This satire is original, AI-assisted and editor-reviewed by The Global News Feed.
