In This Version, Karma Showed Up

A draft chapter requiring feedback please!

I had another one of those cinematic, unhinged dreams where the universe finally does the right thing and nobody says “it’s just business.”

In the dream, Artie got walked out — not laid off, not promoted sideways, not allowed to retire gracefully with a fake press release and a steak dinner. Walked. Out.

Apparently he violated policy. Something about misuse of systems, or maybe someone finally counted how many days he actually came into the office in 2025 and realized the answer was zero.

Either way, he was out. And not quietly.

Then Mitch retired.
Heart issues, I think. But also shame, maybe.
His goodbye email was two lines and signed with his full name like a LinkedIn post. I didn’t reply. Nobody did.

Trish, already long gone, resurfaced in a comment under the press release.
End of an era. So proud of all we built. Grateful for the memories. #FriendsForLife.

Everyone knew exactly who she meant. And what they did.
Still, no one commented.

Dot and Dawn were let go too.
“Role redundancy,” the email said.

I laughed so hard I dropped a K-Cup. Diana didn’t even flinch.

Dawn tried to turn it into a personal brand, posting a photo of her boxed-up desk supplies with the caption: New chapter begins. Grateful for growth.

Nobody liked it. Not even her sister.
Oh wait. She’s dead.

And then, because this was a dream and dreams don’t mess around, they shut down the entire Easton office.

Trump called the company a national security threat and said they were “a disgrace to middle management and a direct threat to America’s morale.” Even people who hate him had to admit… he wasn’t wrong.

Artie was led out in handcuffs.
Still wearing his badge and a look of smug confusion, like he couldn’t quite believe accountability applies to him. The charges scrolled across the news ticker: obstruction, coercion, falsifying records… but all anyone really cared about was the footage of him tripping on the curb as they loaded him into the car.

He faceplanted into the asphalt. A nearby K-9 unit named Karma, misunderstanding the flailing as an attempted escape, lunged. She clamped down on his calf with the righteous fury of every woman he ever talked over in a meeting. Artie howled. The internet rejoiced. The clip went viral. Someone added a laugh track. Another added slow-mo and a remix titled “Bite the Hand That Pays You.”

And for the first time in a long time, the coffee didn’t taste like severance.