The Copier and the Technician

by Bryan

Once upon a Monday morning, a photocopying machine broke down. The department secretary—who often abused the poor little machine—called a technician to make repairs. When he arrived, the technician was shown to the machine and left to work his magic. He cleaned the glass with a special cleaner. With blasts of compressed air, he blew away the clumps of paper dust that had accumulated around the copier’s moving parts. Fresh toner was added to the machine. The automatic stapler was refilled with a new clip of staples, and the technician restocked paper tray “A” with three reams of 20lb copier paper. As he finished, he copied a test page of blank paper to check for spots or smears or lines. The machine hummed as it rolled the test page into its sort tray. The technician was amazed when he found that the page had writing on it. It read:
Thank you, kind sir, for cleaning and replenishing me. For your acts of kindness, I shall grant you three wishes.
  The technician thought about the copier’s peculiar offer, I am very hungry and have been working late tonight. I will test this machine’s offer of three wishes.
“Copier, I would like to have a platter of the finest meats and cheeses and breads to feast on for supper. Please grant me this wish now.”
  He stepped back as the machine hummed, florescent red light glowing from under the hood. To his astonishment, a platter loaded with sliced meats and cheeses and breads rolled forth from the copier and into the sort tray. The feast was sorted by ham, turkey, roast beef, jack cheese, cheddar, swiss, sliced whole wheat bread, and sliced sourdough bread.
“What? No mustard?” He exclaimed.
The copier coughed up packets of Grey Poupon
The technician quickly made a sandwich. The meat and cheese and bread tasted splendid. Amazed with his extraordinary discovery, the technician set aside the food and devised a plan. I’ll tell everyone that the copier is broken beyond repair, then I’ll bring it home. I’ll clean it everyday and have fine meats and cheeses to feast on for a lifetime! He left the copier to go outside to his truck and retrieve his dolly.
Seeing the technician leave the building, the department secretary—who took great pleasure in abusing the machine—figured she was free to use the copier. The copier quickly jammed on her, tearing her original document apart. “Damn this copier!” She kicked the paper tray, cracking it in half. She slammed the hood of the copier, shattering the glass beneath. She pounded the controls until they blinked and beeped chaotically.
She turned to go back to her desk, however the technician stood in her way with his dolly in tow. Seeing how she had damaged the magical copier, he howled, pounding the walls with his meaty fists. “You fool! What you have done to my precious copier!”
The secretary snarled, curling her hot-pink, lipstick-coated lips over her perfect, pearly teeth. “That copier was a pitiful pile of junk. I put it out of its misery.”
  Gripping her shoulders, the technician threw her on top of the copier. Shocked, the secretary flailed, wedging her bottom into the document tray.
    “I’m calling human resources on you!” She struggled to dislodge her ample bottom.
The technician hollered, “You! I’ll show you misery. I wish you were a copier so that you would know how it feels to always be abused and never praised!”
Suddenly, the copier glowed to life. Florescent red light glowed from between the many cracks, fusing them back together. The machine sucked the secretary, bottom first, through its rollers. She squealed, disappearing into the machine. Moments later, hundreds of pieces of paper shot from the sort tray, swirling in an electrified whirlwind. The paper tornado hovered in the corner of the copy room. As it slowed and disappeared, it revealed a new copier, plugged into the surge protector and ready to use. Across its side, written in hot pink script, was the name: The Secretary Series.
As the technician loaded his magic copier onto the dolly, an employee asked if she could use the new copier. “She’s all yours.” Leaving the copy room, he could hear the lady kicking it, slamming the hood, pounding the paper tray, and shouting insults. And the miserable, mean secretary lived out the rest of her life as an abused photocopier.

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