He walked through the door, careful not to disturb his package. The hum of machines filled the air as he was approached by a middle-aged man in a dark suit.

“Ah! Carver! It’s so nice you’re joining our team! I’m Mr. Fischer.” He held his arms wide open as if to embrace the machines around him. “And the printing press sure does seem happy to have you too.” He chuckled at his own little joke.

“It’s actually Carpenter, sir.”, he replied.

Mr. Fischer looked distracted. “Hm? Oh yes, yes of course. Come!” He turned on his heals and dragged Carpenter with him. Humans buzzed around the office like flies—Mr. Fischer pointed to a young female. “Sarah, this is Cleaver.” The small girl waved without looking up. “Hey Mike!” He yelled across the massive, printing mechanism, “This is Candor!” Mike resumed his work. “Hard working folk,” Mr. Fischer said.

“Now,” Mr. Fischer said, stopping in front of a cubicle, “this is your work space. Paychecks are every Friday.” Carpenter sat in the chair and surveyed the area.