The little red handle caught my eye, same as it does every other time I pass within sight of it. This time, however, its call was not unheeded. With a quick glance behind me -- nobody was in the hall -- I reached over and pulled. With a nice satisfying clamor, the fire alarm went off. Immediately, the rest of the office took notice. The sea of cubicles looked like a prairie dog village with all the little heads poking up. The ensuing panic was a sight to behold. People began rushing everywhere, some trying to grab what they could, and others just attempting to save themselves. Few tried the elevators, and the stairway doors soon became home of mobs of hurried, agitated people. One of the managers didn't want to wait for the stairwells. It took some effort, but his chair finally went through the window. His plummet seven stories was interrupted only by one not-very-well muffled gasp, and a tree. No one followed.

Ok, I didn't pull the alarm this time, but it made my afternoon more interesting thinking of doing so.

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