“The best part is that some of the most vocal advocates of the death penalty are the very same people who are pro-life. Seems contradictory, no?”

“Heidi’s got a terrific argument about how to reconcile the two.” Matthew blushed. “If and when you two ever meet, you should ask her about it.” Matthew’s grievances about Heidi had been steadily growing in shape and size. Having never met the woman, I felt uncomfortable aiding and abetting the slander. And besides, why was he still dating her?

“I try not to lead with abortion when meeting people for the first time.” I stood to return to my cubicle. “I vote we divide and conquer. I’ll put together an outline of our dissent and then we can just split it up, OK?”

“Sounds good, Sheila,” Matthew said, punching my shoulder playfully. “And you were right, you know—this whole working together thing hasn’t been so bad.”

Roy was standing directly in front of my cubicle, wearing a red and green knit sweater, watering what looked like potted weeds.

“Good morning, Roy.”

“Hey, Sheila, I got you a Christmas present”—he lifted the pot—“it’s a weeping fig. You like it?”

“I love it, Roy,” I said, genuinely touched by his gesture. “Thanks so much. That was really thoughtful.”

“Yeah, I love Christmas. You know, I’m the presider of this year’s great medieval Christmas feast,” he announced, leaning forward, petting the crocheted reindeer on his chest. How was it that the cold didn’t kill Roy’s breath? Instead, with each drop in degree, the smell ratcheted up one level. Any colder and Roy’s mouth would be Mace. No wonder the fig was weeping.

“Hey, Roy,” Matthew announced, “hey, Sheila.”

“Hey, dude. I got you something, too.” Roy stumbled to Matthew’s cubicle, water spilling from his jug. He shoved a hand into his pocket—no easy feat considering that his pants were at least two sizes too small—and produced a small round object.

“Thanks, um, Roy,” Matthew said, inspecting his Christmas gift. “It’s really, ah, nice.”

Roy giggled. “It’s one of the napkin holders we used at last year’s totally awesome Christmas feast and it’s—”

DING! Thirteenth floor, going down.

The speed with which Roy tripped his way out of the clerks’ cave was totally awesome.

Lately, the judge had been coming in earlier and earlier and leaving later and later. Judging from her afternoon calls, Bob’s health had not been improving.

“What are you looking at, Roy?!” she barked before taking position at her desk. “Sheila! Sheila! Get in here now.”

“Yes, Judge?” I stood before her in the torture chamber.

“Haven’t I told you I hate seeing you people wear those thick coats inside? It makes me hot just looking at you!” She had. In fact, every day she ordered me to remove my coat, but it was colder inside than out.