Forlornly I sat, staring at my monitor. Work a drag as usual, with nary a thing to look forward to but quitting time. My days a bore with nothing to do but make eraser pigs and paperclip chains. Then behold, a cubicle gift exchange appears. What shall I do, should I dare participate? What will it mean? What will my co-workers think? Will they be jealous? Perhaps. But could they be covetous? This is unlikely, but a contingency one must plan for in any case. You never know. I take the plunge.

All hope seems lost, my giftor must have had something come up because I had never heard from them. Perhaps they were merely toying with me, watching, plotting, scheming, waiting for that time to strike out of nowhere with a gift delivered unnoticed and unexpected. Alas, no. Merely waiting on receipt of my gift, likely delayed because all you other people were clogging up the mail pipes with your gifts.

But what do I see on entrance to the office, but a package, all for me. Could it be? Was it what I was expecting, or was it something drunk me ordered, I cannot remember. I must obtain entry to this brown box of mystery. Upon winning my fight with that adhesive used to secure it in shipping, what do I see, not one, but multiple gifts.

Behold, bask in the glory that is my take.