"Is It Safe to Come Out?"

It all started with a harmless-looking email.

The subject line read, “URGENT: Free Donuts in the Break Room!” Naturally, chaos ensued. The entire staff of GreenTech Solutions bolted out of their cubicles as if they were being chased by zombies. Little did they know, they were running toward disaster, not away from it.

The break room? No donuts.

Instead, there was a lonely coffee machine sputtering out its last breaths. The donut promise was nothing but a clever trap. And, lurking in their inboxes, the real threat: a computer virus.

Before anyone could return to their desks, the chaos began.

First, Janet’s computer started blasting disco music. Non-stop. As much as she liked Donna Summer, this was...a bit much. “I can’t mute it!” she shrieked, pressing buttons like she was launching a rocket into space.

Meanwhile, Bob, who always pretended to know everything about computers, claimed he could fix it. “Just need to reboot the system,” he said confidently. The entire office gathered around him as if he were some kind of tech wizard.

Bob turned his computer off and on again.

It burst into a chorus of cat memes, meowing in unison like a demonic feline choir. Bob blinked. “That’s...uh...not supposed to happen.”

By lunchtime, it became clear that everyone was infected. Screens flickered with odd messages like “You’ve won a lifetime supply of hair gel!” or “Click here for a free vacation...to the moon!” And no one knew how to stop it.

The IT department was in full lockdown. No one had seen them for hours, though there were disturbing sounds coming from the server room. Heavy breathing, whispers, the occasional scream. Someone had sworn they saw smoke, but that seemed dramatic.

“Should we...go in there?” asked Linda, the office manager, her eyes wide.

Bob (who was still red-faced after the cat choir incident) shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s a war zone in there.”

Linda looked unconvinced. “But the servers...”

Bob cut her off. “Trust me, no one who’s gone in has come out. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle, but with Wi-Fi.”

As the afternoon dragged on, productivity came to a screeching halt. Steve from Accounting locked himself in the supply closet. He was last heard muttering, “If I just stay in here, the virus can’t get me. It can’t get me in here.” No one had the heart to tell him his phone was already infected, playing loops of goat videos on TikTok.

Janet had finally gone full rebel. She stood on her desk, yelling over the disco music, “We must abandon the computers! Revolt! Escape before it spreads to our phones! Back to typewriters! Pigeons! Anything!”

Her speech was met with hesitant nods. Someone in the back actually whispered, “Pigeons aren’t a bad idea.”

Suddenly, there was a clang from the server room. A faint voice drifted out. “I think...we fixed it?”

The office froze. No one dared breathe.

The door creaked open, and out walked Dan from IT, looking like he’d just survived the apocalypse. His shirt was torn, his hair was sticking up at wild angles, and his eyes darted around like a man who had seen things—dark things.

“Is it safe?” someone whispered.

Dan wiped his brow. “I think so...but don’t open any more emails. Ever.”

The office erupted into cautious applause, while Bob, of course, tried to act like he knew it would be fine all along. Janet, however, wasn’t convinced. “I’m sticking with pigeons,” she muttered, side-eyeing her computer like it might bite her.

And so, life at GreenTech Solutions slowly returned to normal...except for Steve. No one ever did convince him to leave the supply closet.

The End.