So Walrus Mastur and I are getting used to the Working World. It is a brutal combination of heaven and hell, or rather it's heaven for Walrus Mastur and hell for me.
Walrus Mastur is giving part-time lessons in Seal Communications. Seal Communications comprises an in-depth understanding of the habits and lifestyles of seals, including their limited speech and gestures. It also explores controversial topics such as Seals: Horrific Hos, or Just Hopelessly Happy? After all, it's important to understand one's prey. The little pups Walrus teaches are youthful, furry and boisterous. What they do not know is how much they resemble seals. Walrus Mastur likes them very much*.
I work long, hard hours in a law firm. Since I started, I've been promoted from Typist, to Lawyer's Personal Secretary, to Lawyer's Personal Slave. The pay is mediocre. My boss is a steely, noble man valiantly fighting to legislate the ownership of dungeons and cattle prods as a personal right. Everybody respects him tremendously, especially me, and it's not just because I have to. I spend most of the day drafting important legal documents and the rest submitting to his commands. It's quite difficult to type and brew coffee (the way he likes it) when my wrists are cuffed together. He also likes feeding me lunch while I kneel by his mahogany desk. What he doesn't know is my knees get rug-burn and I don't like food but I could really do with some of that coffee.
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