A Story (sort of)

Geeks crowd the basement bright with cool fluorescent light. Its glow does not forgive their bad skin and cowlicks, their jumpy eyes and shirts tucked into underwear. They cluster around monitors, eyes riveted therein, hand shoved in as many pockets. Someone smells like nachos. A nasal buzz fills the room.

The Executive and Raj appear on the monitors. The Executive smiles, his teeth almost disguising the evil in his eyes. He pats Raj on the shoulder.

Raj's expression does not change, but he does not recoil. They must have practiced.

"We need your genius here, Raj," says the Executive. "I give you carte blanche to assemble your team. Neither you nor your team will have any social obligations. Together we will make history."

Raj smiles and touches his mole.

The monitors go black. Someone farts, a loud gruff bark. There is giggling and whines of protest.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" a boy asks a girl.

The girl smiles and shrinks away. This is what happens when you say yes to things.