Xander and Shmoby: The Great Office Showdown
It was a humid afternoon deep inside the colossal Blazy Enterprises skyscraper, floors stretching higher than the eye could see—or rather, the eye couldn’t see, because Xander’s office was buried somewhere around the 12,345th floor, which somehow made the southern accent in his voice echo just a little louder.
“Lord have mercy,” Xander drawled, leaning back in his chair, finger tapping his desk. “Now, who in the Sam Hill put this new software on my computer without askin’ me first? What’s the meaning of this nonsense? And why do I have to update it at the exact same time I’m supposed to run my radio show back home in West Virginia?”
He scratched his chin, looking at the blinking red error message on his monitor. “Now, what in tarnation am I supposed to do?”
Before he could get any further, Shmoby burst into the room like a hurricane with mismatched socks. His voice was that unmistakable weird old-lady whine, all fluttery and panicked.
“Oh noooo! My computer crashed! What am I gonna doooo?” he wailed, clutching his mouse like it was a lifebuoy. He then suddenly shifted gears mid-sentence, like a broken record with a mind of its own.
“And don’t you dare ask me about the hairy armpits situation in the break room! I swear, it’s like Daddy’s laundry exploded in there or something.”
Xander blinked, trying to process the absurdity.
“Shmoby, son, I ain’t even askin’ about no hairy armpits. I’m askin’ why you crashed my computer ‘cause that update don’t like that one bit.”
Shmoby flailed his hands dramatically.
“Well, I was just checking to make sure it could handle the Blazy Linux upgrade, and then—oh heavens, the horror!—the screen went black. And then I thought maybe the ghosts of the old Simplex fire alarms got mad at me.”
Xander rolled his eyes so hard it felt like a backflip.
“Ghosts? Hairy armpits? Lord, what are you talkin’ about? We got real work to do ‘fore the next radio slot.”
Shmoby, still clutching his mouse, gave a long sigh. “Well, I’m also worried about the sudden surge in daddy’s laundry disappearing from the office washer. It’s a conspiracy, I tell ya.”
Xander raised his eyebrows.
“Well, if you spent half as much time fixin’ computers as you do makin’ excuses, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Now tell me, who broke my system, what did they do, when did it happen, where in this dang building, and why—for the love of biscuits—didn’t you fix it yet?”
Shmoby’s eyes darted around.
“Well, who… probably some intern who thought they were smarter than me. What they did? Installed a malware-laden update. When? During my three-hour nap, where? Near the snack vending machine, and why? Because they hate fun.”
Xander just shook his head and chuckled, a grin creeping out despite the chaos.
“Well, Shmoby, I reckon you might be the most dramatic old lady this side of the Appalachians, but if you don’t fix my computer before the next broadcast, I’m sending Celestia over with three fire-breathin’ heads to roast you alive.”
Shmoby gasped.
“Celestia?! Lord have mercy, nooooo!”
And with that, the two unlikely coworkers, one fiery and no-nonsense, the other chaotic and excuse-ridden, set off on their mission to save Blazy Enterprises from tech disaster—because when you work at the biggest and weirdest company in the universe, there’s no shortage of drama, and not even a radio show from West Virginia can fix a crashing computer on its own.
Xander stood by his desk, arms crossed and jaw tight, as Shmoby launched into another tirade.
“—and then, I swear to the moon, my keyboard started typing backwards! Can you believe that? Backwards! And don’t get me started on the office fridge—someone definitely put pickles in the mayonnaise jar. Who does that? I tell ya, it’s sabotage, pure and simple!”
Xander groaned and rubbed his temples.
“Shmoby, you’ve been yammerin’ on for three hours straight. Ain’t nobody got time for all this nonsense. Fix the dang computer or I swear, Celestia’s gonna have to make a house call.”
Shmoby’s eyes went wide like he’d just seen a ghost.
“Celestia?! The triple-headed dragon? But she’s terrifying! What if she breathes fire on my desk? Or worse—licks me with her dragon tongues? Oh, heavens, what will I doooooo?”
Just then, the ground began to rumble. A low growl echoed down the hallway, followed by the unmistakable thunder of heavy claws.
Xander smirked.
“Looks like she heard you.”
The massive doors burst open and in strode Celestia — three majestic heads swiveling, scales shimmering, smoke curling from her nostrils. Each head gave Shmoby a long, hard stare.
“Alright, Shmoby,” Xander said, voice calm but firm, “this is your last chance. Fix it. Or Celestia’s gonna rearrange your excuses into a crispy roast.”
Shmoby whimpered like a scolded puppy.
“Okay, okay, I’ll fix it! No more excuses. No more hairy armpits or daddy’s laundry. I promise. Just, uh, don’t let those dragon tongues get too close to me.”
Celestia let out a low rumble that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.
“Good,” Xander said, “because I’m done listenin’ to your jibber-jabber.”
With that, Shmoby hurried back to the computer, muttering about “maybe the dragons are the real IT support,” while Xander and Celestia stood guard, ready for anything.
Shmoby was now hunched over his own computer, eyes wild, voice shrill, repeating the same frantic cry like a broken record:
“Oh no! Oh no! My keyboard’s not typing! Help! Help! What am I gonna doooo? Oh no! Oh no!”
His fingers jabbed at the keys like a chicken on a hot skillet, but nothing happened.
Xander shook his head, watching the endless loop of panic with growing disbelief.
“Shmoby, for the love of biscuits, shut up and fix it.”
But Shmoby just screamed louder.
“Oh no! Oh no! The keys won’t work! Maybe it’s the ghosts again! Or hairy armpits from the break room! Help! Help!”
The sound was driving Xander up the walls, so he gave Celestia a nod.
Celestia’s three heads swiveled toward Shmoby, smoke puffing from her nostrils. Then, in a voice that rumbled like distant thunder, she spoke.
“Enough!”
Shmoby jumped, eyes wide, voice quivering.
“P-please, no fire! I promise I’ll behave!”
Celestia didn’t hesitate. With a sudden blast of fiery breath aimed precisely at Shmoby’s computer, the screen flickered violently, then sparked and sizzled.
Shmoby yelped.
“Oh no! My computer’s on fire! Help! Help! What am I gonna doooo?”
Celestia’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she let out a deep, booming laugh.
“Well, now you’ve got something real to complain about.”
Xander chuckled, finally amused.
“Looks like Shmoby’s got himself a proper problem to whine about. Maybe now he’ll stop with the excuses for five minutes.”
Shmoby backed away, nervously patting his singed shirt.
“Okay, okay, maybe I’ll just go talk to IT. Or maybe I’ll take a nap. Yeah, a nap sounds good. Oh no, what if the nap is haunted, too?”
Celestia gave a low, satisfied growl and turned away, smoke still curling from her snout.
Xander just laughed.
“Lord have mercy, that dragon’s got patience… but not that much.”
Shmoby’s panicked wails bounced off the Blazy Enterprises walls like a broken record stuck on repeat.
“Oh no! Oh no! The keyboard’s dead! Help! Help! What am I gonna doooo? What if the mouse bites me? Oh no, oh no!”
His frantic jabbering only grew louder and more frantic as the keyboard fizzled, sparks flying from the scorched remains of his now-charred computer.
Xander, leaning back in his chair with arms crossed, couldn’t help but laugh his southern tail off.
“Lord, Shmoby, you sound like a hog caught in a corn shredder.”
Meanwhile, deep in the shadows of the hallway, Inferno’s low rumble began to build—a fiery warning. The Hispanic-accented dragon spoke with a slow, dangerous drawl.
“Shmoby, if you keep makin’ that racket, I’m gonna roast you right here and now. No more warnings.”
Shmoby’s eyes shot open like saucers.
“Oh no, not Inferno! Please, I was just complainin’ ‘cause I’m scared! Scared of everything!”
Inferno stepped into the room, smoke curling from his nostrils as his voice rose.
“Ya better fix your mess, or I’ll turn that panicked yelp into a barbecue. And this time, there ain’t no firewall to save ya.”
Xander doubled over laughing, wiping tears from his eyes.
“Now that’s entertainment, boys. This office drama beats any radio broadcast back in West Virginia.”
Shmoby backed into a corner, mumbling incoherent excuses about “hairy armpits,” “Daddy’s laundry,” and “the ghost in the server room.”
Suddenly, the fire alarm blared—the old 80s mechanical Simplex alarms that Xander loved so much—adding to the chaos.
Shmoby shrieked.
“Oh no! The alarm! The fire! What am I gonna doooo?”
Inferno smirked.
“Relax, Shmoby. It’s just a test. But you? You’re next on my roast list if you don’t quiet down.”
Xander, still laughing, shook his head.
“Lord have mercy. This day just keeps gettin’ better.”
Shmoby’s endless screaming was like nails on a chalkboard, echoing through the cavernous halls of Blazy Enterprises.
“Oh no! Oh no! The keyboard’s dead! Help! Help! What am I gonna doooo?”
Inferno’s eyes narrowed, fire flickering beneath his three snarling heads.
“Enough of this foolishness,” he growled with a thick Mexican accent. “You’ve been complainin’ and screamin’ for hours like a scared little chihuahua.”
Before Shmoby could babble more excuses about “hairy armpits” and “Daddy’s laundry,” Inferno stepped forward and exhaled a scorching blast of flame that singed Shmoby’s shirt and melted the remains of his keyboard into a bubbling puddle.
Shmoby yelped, hopping on one foot.
“Oh no! My shirt! My keyboard! What am I gonna doooo now?!”
From the doorway, Brandon Henderson, CEO of Blazy Enterprises, strolled in with a slow, satisfied smile.
“Well, I gotta say, Inferno, that was some fine work. Took care of the problem faster than a fire drill on the third floor.”
Xander chuckled, folding his arms.
“Lord have mercy, Brandon, you always know how to handle these dang situations.”
Brandon nodded, eyes gleaming with pride.
“Shmoby’s complaints were driving the whole building crazy. Inferno just saved us all.”
Shmoby whimpered, rubbing his scorched shirt, still muttering about ghosts and conspiracies.
Brandon clapped Xander on the shoulder.
“Now, let’s get back to work before Shmoby starts cryin’ again and we need Celestia to come back for a second round.”
Xander laughed, “Amen to that, boss.”