Allen Apple believed in procedures.

Procedures made sense.

Procedures had forms.

Forms had boxes.

Gods, unfortunately, did not.

Allen sat at the small HR desk with a clipboard, a pen, and a form labeled:

EMPLOYEE WRITE-UP – FAILURE TO COMPLY

Across from him stood Espearagas.

Tall.

Green.

Radiating offended divinity.

Behind Espearagas, the lights flickered politely.

Allen cleared his throat. “This is just a formal documentation. Nothing personal.”

Espearagas looked down at him.

“You have summoned me… for paperwork?”

“Yes,” Allen squeaked. “Standard process.”

Espearagas crossed his arms.

“I am the embodiment of restraint. I do not violate policy.”

Allen nodded quickly. “Right, but you did attempt to leave during mandatory overtime.”

The room went quiet.

Even the motivational poster stopped believing in itself.

Espearagas tilted his head slowly.

“You believe… I attempted to escape?”

“Yes,” Allen said, tapping the clipboard. “That’s a pointable offense.”

Espearagas leaned forward.

“You have built a cage… and called it discipline.”

Allen’s pen began to shake.

“I just need you to sign here acknowledging—”

Espearagas raised one spear, not threatening — just present.

The pen snapped.

Allen gulped. “That’s… fine. Initials also work.”

Obesseus waddled in, mid-snack.

“WHY ROOM FEEL MAD?”

Allen gestured wildly. “I’m writing him up!”

Obesseus gasped. “YOU WRITE UP GOD?”

Espearagas straightened.

“I am not subject to your forms.”

Allen nodded. “Understood, but compliance—”

The lights dimmed.

The clipboard grew heavy.

“You dare quantify a god?” Espearagas asked calmly.

Allen whispered, “I have to.”

Silence.

Then — the form burst into green confetti, neatly stapled.

Allen blinked.

“…Did you shred my write-up?”

“I composted it,” Espearagas replied.

Obesseus clapped. “GOOD.”

Allen slumped. “So… no signature?”

Espearagas turned to leave.

“Do not summon me again,” he said. “Especially with boxes to check.”

Obesseus followed him out.

“MEETING BORING,” Obesseus said.

The door closed.

Allen sat alone.

Jeff Jelly peeked in. “Did you get the signature?”

Allen stared at the empty desk.

“…I need a different job.”

The wall updated itself:

WRITE-UP STATUS: DENIED BY NATURE

Allen sighed.