Night Shift Inspection

The house was quiet, which meant only one thing: it was time to conduct my surprise late-night staff performance review. I climbed all the way up the second tier of the wooden bookshelf and commandeered a red plastic ballpoint pen. Twisting the cap off with my teeth, I marched over to a pad of sticky notes left beside the lamp. Since nobody was around to defend their work ethic, I gave the entire imaginary night crew a harsh three out of ten and stamped a jagged smiley face right across the top sheet. Order must be maintained, after all.