"At the office Christmas party, Johnson had a bit too much to drink and thought it'd be a hoot to photocopy his butt using the office copier machine.
It sounded like a cheap thrill at the time, but he forgot to snag the copies off the machine before he left.
So what does he tell Mr. Sanford the following day when those copies wind up on his boss's desk?"
Makin’ Copies By J.M. Snyder I’m at the water cooler, listening to Kevin’s story of how he fought off a horde of housewives for the last TMX Elmo in Toys ‘R Us, when I hear my name bellowed from the boss’s office. “Johnson!” The few co-workers near me scatter. I wonder if I can slink away to my desk and pretend I didn’t hear when Mr. Sanford yells out again. “Johnson! In my office, now!” “It was nice knowing you,” Kevin says as I toss my cup into the trashcan. I know all too well what this must be about—the office Christmas party last Friday night. God! Kevin claps a hand on my back like a nail hammered into my coffin. “The Rich-Meister, caught makin’ copies.” “Shut up,” I mutter. With my head down, I move through the cubicles in our small office like a man going to the gallows. Ahead
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