Chapter 69: The Border Lockdown
For sixty-eight chapters, Ne Job had assumed Section C-7 was the only part of the Bureau that mattered. He was wrong. At 09:00 Cycles, the door leading to the adjacent hallway was not just locked; it was sealed with a Giant Silver Zip-Tie that pulsed with a cold, corporate blue light.
A sign was slapped onto the vellum: PROPERTY OF SECTION C-8. NO ADJECTIVES BEYOND THIS POINT. ALL METAPHORS WILL BE CONFISCATED.
"Commissioner!" Pip yelled, tugging at the zip-tie with their very small wrench. "They've cut us off! And they've taken the 'Bridge of Sighs' metaphor! Now it's just a 'Flat Concrete Overpass'!"
The Rivalry of the Relentless
The mastermind behind the lockdown stepped through the translucent barrier. It was Director Vane, the head of Section C-8. Vane was Ne Job's polar opposite: he wore a suit that was 100% devoid of wrinkles, his hat had no plume, and his stapler was a heavy-duty, electric model that made a sound like a guillotine.
"Ne Job," Vane sneered, his voice as dry as a desert audit. "Your department is a mess. You're over-budget on 'Sparkle' and 7.5% behind on 'Finality.' I've decided to initiate a Narrative Trade War. I'm seizing your best literary devices to pay for the 'The End' I'm planning for next Tuesday."
"You can't seize my metaphors, Vane!" Ne Job shouted. "They aren't assets; they're the soul of the trajectory!"
"In C-8, everything is an asset," Vane replied. He snapped his fingers, and a vacuum-tube in the ceiling sucked the "Silver Lining" right off the clouds in the Bureau's lobby.
The Metaphorical Famine
The effects of the theft were devastating. Without their metaphors, the Bureau began to lose its flavor:
The Muse tried to say her hair was "electric," but the word was intercepted. Instead, she just said her hair was "conductive of 120 volts."
Barnaby the Dragon tried to be "fierce as a thunderstorm," but he ended up just being "a large lizard with a high core temperature."
Assistant Yue couldn't even describe her steam as "whispering." She was reduced to: "WATER. VAPOR. ESCAPING. AT. MODERATE. PRESSURE."
"He's stripping the Bureau of its 'Like' and 'As'!" Architect Ao Bing cried, looking at his blueprints. "My 'City of Glass' is now just 'Standard Transparent Silica Structures'! It's boring, Ne Job! It's 100% boring!"
The 7.5% Smuggling Operation
Ne Job realized that Vane was playing a game of Literalism.
"Junior! Get the secret stash of 'Puns'! Pip, I need you to bypass the zip-tie using the 'Underground Subtext'!"
Ne Job didn't fight Vane with high-level prose; he fought him with Double Entendres. He led the team into the ventilation shafts, smuggling a crate of "Raw Irony" into Section C-8's territory.
"If he wants to be literal," Ne Job whispered, "we'll give him a 'Taste of his own Medicine'."
He opened the crate. Inside was an actual, literal bottle of medicine labeled: VANE'S OWN.
The Literal Backfire
Ne Job dropped the bottle onto Vane's desk. As it shattered, the literalism of Section C-8 turned against its master.
"What is this?" Vane demanded. Suddenly, his shoes became "Cold Feet." His heart became "Heavy as Lead," making him sink through his mahogany chair. His words became "Empty Promises," manifesting as literal, hollow bubbles that popped with a disappointing sound.
"You see, Vane?" Ne Job said, stepping out of the vent and adjusting his silver-plumed hat. "In this Bureau, if you take away the 'Like,' you're left with a reality that's too heavy to carry."
The Breaking of the Zip-Tie
With Vane literally "tied up" in his own "Red Tape" (which had manifested as actual red ribbons), Ne Job used his silver stapler to fire a high-velocity Semicolon-Staple at the silver zip-tie.
KA-CHING!
The tie shattered into a thousand "Unfinished Sentences." The metaphors rushed back into Section C-7. The clouds got their silver linings back, and the Muse's hair returned to its electric-neon glory.
The Border Report
Ne Job stood at the restored doorway, watching Vane's assistants try to untangle their boss from his "Tangled Web of Lies."
LOG: CHAPTER 69 SUMMARY.
STATUS: Trade War ended. Metaphors restored.
NOTE: I've learned that a 'Literal' world is 7.5% more dangerous than a 'Figurative' one.
OBSERVATION: Never try to steal a man's 'Like.' It's the only thing keeping the 'As' together.
P.S.: Assistant Yue is back to describing her steam as 'The Ghostly Breath of a Clockwork Goddess.' Much better.
The Muse leaned over his shoulder, her hair flashing a triumphant, neon-blue. "Nice work, Ne Job. You really gave him a 'Piece of your Mind'."
Ne Job looked at the Semicolon. It was glowing with a sharp, witty violet.
"I'm just glad I didn't have to literally give him a piece of it, Muse," Ne Job said. "Now, why is Assistant Yue sounding a 7.5% alarm and why is there a Giant Silver Feather falling from the ceiling, and why does it weigh ten tons?"