Kristin Enspelled

"Yes," she says. "It makes no sense that a customer would be on my desk."

"But I am," you laugh. "And you don't mind in the least that I'm up here."

"Of course," she agrees, but you can see the quick, logical mind spinning behind her glowing eyes. "But it doesn't add up that I wouldn't mind, either. I'm very picky about who I allow to approach me, and I certainly would never let someone stay on my desk long enough to be seen - it could cost me my job!"

"You know what else makes no sense?" you chuckle. "Nobody's looking at us, even with the door open."

The two of you share a puzzled moment, looking out the door as a subaccountant walks past with a cup of water from the water-cooler, and waves out of habit but doesn't look in.

"You're right," she gasps.

"And it doesn't make sense that I know so much about what's going on," you continue. "Or the way that you have to take off your clothes."

"Seriously," she gripes, pulling down her top to reveal one large, perfect breast. "This is really mystifying."

Do you want to:

"Would you like me to explain it to you?"

Script by Tilde