Pissville

Now, he's at work. The building is modern and clean. He walks in past the security desk. There is a short elevator ride and then he leaves the lift and goes straight ahead into his office. The desk is a shiny slab of black wood like an expensive piece of chocolate. There are modern chairs in front of it and a black filing cabinet. On the surface of the desk is his laptop and, in contrast to everything else, a battered, grey and black german army field telephone, its black and stiff wires run into the sleek shining baseboard of the office. There is a small shiny red box with a little gold perforated speaker disk in the middle of it. right by his left elbow.
There was a soft knock on his doorway. He never closed his door at work. In walks Jenny Enyone. Today, she had bright red hair and freckles on her pale skin. Yesterday, she was black haired and blue eyed. She went through a phase last week where she was about six feet tall and black as licorice with corn rows.
"Hey, Jenny, that's a good look for you. How's it going?"
"Well, it's going. Do you have the Manson file?
He scoots over to the cabinet and pulls out a manilla folder about five inches thick and hands it to her.
"Glad to get rid of it. Are you taking it over for now?
"I guess so, everyone gets this damn thing eventually."
He was glad to be rid of it even though it was one of only thirteen he was actively working on.
A voice comes over the little red box,
"Ok everyone, staff meeting in five minutes..."
"Guess we better mosey, huh?" says Jenny.