Glitch of the Good Samaritan

Chapter 2: Aggressive Sanitation

"Whoa, easy there, boys! Watch the fabric! This is a cotton-poly blend, and it does not handle stress well!" Henry yelled, spinning his ergonomic chair like a top to avoid their grasp.

"Get him! Don't let him wriggle away!" the first guard grunted, his beefy hand missing Henry’s shoulder by a millimeter and slamming into the partition.

"How did you—how are you moving so fast?!" Jackson started, his eyes widening in shock as his pristine suit was nearly brushed by the spinning chair.

"Yoink!" Henry shouted. With a lightning-fast flick of his wrist, he snatched the manila folder right out of Jackson's hand. "Thanks for the light reading material, Jackie boy! I'll make sure to file this under 'fictional garbage'!"

"My folder! He took the file!" Jackson screamed, his voice cracking into a high-pitched shriek. "Grab him! He's making a mockery of our corporate security policy! He's a flight risk, you idiots!"

"See ya, wouldn't want to be ya!" Henry cheered, kicking off the desk and launching himself out of the cubicle like a human pinball on wheels.

"Go, Henry, go!" Sarah squealed, waving her arms in wild, chaotic circles. "Run to freedom! Save yourself! Don't let them put you in corporate jail! I'll feed your cats if you have any!"

"Stop him! Don't just stand there like a couple of overpaid mall cops!" Jackson roared, his face turning an impressive shade of beet red.

"On it! He's heading for the east corridor!" the second guard yelled, giving chase, his heavy boots squeaking violently on the linoleum.

Henry bolted down the hallway, clutching the folder tightly against his chest as if it were a golden ticket.

"Come on, feet, don't fail me now!" Henry panted, skidding around a sharp corner. "I did not survive a heart attack just to get tackled by a guy named Dave!"

`[WARNING: STAMINA DEPLETING RAPIDLY. PHYSICAL CONDITION: SEDENTARY, PRE-DIABETIC OFFICE WORKER. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE CARDIOVASCULAR REST.]`

"Oh, shut up, you stupid system! I'm running for my life here!" Henry gasped, looking around frantically. "Where do I go? Where do I go? The elevator is too slow, and the main lobby is probably crawling with security!"

"He went left! I heard his cheap dress shoes squeaking!" a guard's voice echoed from down the hall, accompanied by the thudding of heavy boots.

"Great, absolutely great. I really need to invest in some rubber-soled oxfords," Henry muttered, grabbing the handle of the nearest door and slipping inside.

He slammed the door shut and flipped the deadbolt just as a heavy shoulder rammed against the wood from the outside, causing the frame to shudder.

"The breakroom? Really?" Henry sighed, looking around the empty, fluorescent-lit kitchen. "Of all the places to get cornered, I end up in the breakroom? It smells like stale coffee and sadness in here."

`[ALERT: COMBAT INITIATION DETECTED. RETALIATION PRE-REQUISITES NOT MET.]`

`[CURRENT PHYSICAL CAPABILITIES: WEAK, CLUMSY, PRONE TO BACK SPASMS.]`

"Wow, thanks for the confidence boost. Truly," Henry said, rolling his eyes at the glowing text. "So what, I'm just supposed to let them arrest me?"

`[QUEST ACTIVATED: THE SANITARY SADDLE.]`

`[OBJECTIVE: CLEAN THE COMMUNAL MICROWAVE TO UNLOCK 'BASIC BOXING'.]`

`[TIME LIMIT: 01:30]`

`[PENALTY FOR FAILURE: IMMEDIATE APPREHENSION AND EXTREME SOCIAL EMBARRASSMENT.]`

"Are you freaking kidding me?!" Henry yelled at the holographic screen floating in front of his face. "A microwave? I have two professional security guards trying to break down the door, and you want me to do chores?!"

`[TIME REMAINING: 01:20. THE CHILI FROM TUESDAY IS CEMENTING. SPEED IS ADVISED.]`

"Fine! Fine! I'll clean the stupid thing!" Henry screamed. He lunged toward the sink, grabbing a crusty, damp sponge. "Who even microwaved this? It smells like burnt broccoli and despair!"

He yanked open the microwave door, grimacing at the yellowed splatters coating the interior like a modern art disaster.

"Come on, scrub! Scrub like your life depends on it! Because it literally does!" Henry grunted, shoving his arm into the appliance.

"Hey! Open this door!" a loud bang rattled the breakroom door. "We know you're in there, Henry! Jackson said we can use necessary force! And we will!"

"Just a minute! I'm in the middle of a very important sanitation crisis!" Henry shouted back, his hand moving in a blur of +1 Dexterity. "You wouldn't want me to leave the breakroom messy, would you? That's against company policy!"

`[CLEANLINESS LEVEL: 34%. REMOVE THE CRUSTED SPAGHETTI SAUCE IN THE UPPER CORNER.]`

"I'm scrubbing! I'm scrubbing! Why is this sauce so molecularly bonded to the plastic?!" Henry yelled, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Who did this? Was this you, Jackson? You absolute monster! You never cover your bowls!"

"Henry, open the door or we are kicking it down on the count of three!" the guard yelled, followed by another heavy thud.

"Do you know how hard it is to get dried marinara off a ceiling, you brute?!" Henry screamed back. "Give me thirty seconds! It's a matter of professional pride!"

`[CLEANLINESS LEVEL: 78%. SPLATTER DETECTED ON THE GLASS TURNTABLE.]`

"The turntable! Right!" Henry snatched the glass plate out, scrubbing it with furious, blur-like hand motions. "Take that! And that! Feel the power of a forty-year-old man who has had enough of dirty office kitchens!"

"One! Two!" the guard outside chanted, preparing to kick.

"Come on, shine, you beautiful piece of appliance, shine!" Henry roared, throwing his entire weight into one final, glorious wipe.

The microwave let out a cheerful, high-pitched ding as the entire interior suddenly gleamed with a pristine, pearlescent white light.

`[QUEST COMPLETED: THE SANITARY SADDLE.]`

`[REWARD UNLOCKED: BASIC MARTIAL ARTS (OFFICE DRONE VARIANT).]`

`[BONUS REWARD: GRIP STRENGTH +1.]`

"Oh, baby, yes! I feel the power!" Henry cheered, dropping the sponge. "I can actually feel my forearm muscles tightening!"

BOOM! The breakroom door flew open, wood splintering as the first guard burst in, chest heaving and fists clenched.

"End of the line, Henry! Put the sponge down and raise your hands!" the guard barked, pointing a thick, calloused finger at him.

"I'll put the sponge down," Henry said, a confident smirk spreading across his face. "But only because I'm done cleaning. You're welcome, by the way. It was filthy."

"Are you crazy? What were you doing in here?" the guard asked, blinking in confusion at the sparkling microwave. "Did you seriously lock yourself in here to clean?"

"Just preparing my battle arena," Henry replied, stepping forward and adopting a loose, surprisingly natural stance. "You know how it is. Clean space, clean mind, clean fight."

"Get over here!" the guard lunged, reaching out with both hands to grab Henry's collar.

"Missed me!" Henry ducked, his body moving with a fluid grace he'd never felt before. "Whoa, this 'Office Drone Variant' is actually pretty smooth! My lower back doesn't even hurt!"

"Stop moving!" the guard swiped again, growing increasingly frustrated.

"Right hand, grab the wrist. Pivot the hip. Use the keyboard-warrior posture to leverage the center of gravity!" Henry chanted his actions out loud as his body instinctively reacted to the guard's movements.

He grabbed the guard's wrist, twisted it outward, and swept his foot behind the man's ankle with perfect execution.

"Ugh! My back!" the guard groaned, pinning himself to the linoleum floor with a heavy, wind-knocking thud.

"That's for always eating my labeled yogurt in 2021!" Henry yelled down at him. "Wait, it's only 2024. Well, consider it a pre-emptive strike for the future!"

"What the—Jerry! What happened to you?" the second guard ran in, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw his partner groaning on the floor.

"He... he knows kung fu, Dave! Watch out! He's got some kind of weird, high-speed cleaning moves!" Jerry wheezed from the floor.

"He's an accountant! How does he know kung fu?!" Dave yelled, reaching for his belt. "We need backup in the third-floor breakroom! The suspect is highly hostile and... weirdly clean!"

"No time to chat, Dave!" Henry said, executing a swift, precise swipe of his arm that knocked the walkie-talkie right out of Dave's hand.

"Hey! That's company property!" Dave protested, stepping back in sheer panic.

"And this is a tactical retreat!" Henry shouted, darting past him toward the back fire exit.

He pushed open the heavy metal door, triggering the building's emergency system.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Attention all staff. Code Red. An employee has gone rogue in Sector B. Please do not approach the accountant. He is armed with a folder and has extreme agility."

"An accountant? Seriously? They had to specify my department?" Henry grumbled as he hit the stairwell. "They make us sound like a high-level threat! What, am I going to audit them to death?"

"Finally, a way out," Henry breathed, looking down the cold, concrete stairwell.

"Going somewhere, Henry?" a deep, menacing voice echoed from the bottom of the flight.

Henry stopped, his boots gripping the metal grating. He peered down into the dim stairwell, his heart hammering against his ribs.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Henry sighed, staring at the three large men standing at the bottom. They definitely weren't standard corporate security.

"Jackson said you'd try to run," the middle thug smiled, cracking his knuckles. "We're here to make sure you take the express window route down."

"Great. Just great," Henry muttered, gripping the handrail tightly. "Hey, system! Any more appliances nearby I can clean for a stat boost? A toaster? A coffee maker? I'll even wipe down a vending machine!"

`[NO APPLIANCES IN IMMEDIATE RANGE. RECOMMENDATION: FIGHT OR FLY.]`

"You're a real big help, you know that? What am I paying you for?!" Henry yelled at the empty air.

"Who are you talking to, loser?" the thug on the left laughed, starting to climb the stairs, his shadow stretching long and menacing.

"Just my personal life coach," Henry said, tightening his grip on the folder. "And he says I'm about to kick your teeth in."