The monster under Fred's desk was tapping on his foot. He had to look around for anyone watching him before kneeling down to talk to the hairy, spiked beast drooling acid onto the office carpet.
"What do you want, Clive," asked Fred to the monster, "I have a lot of work to. I should have left you at home."
Clive looked at him with a menacing scowl and whispered like cockroach screams, "Oh, by Fred I'm thirsty. Can you get me a little cup of water," and he gave a grin that could kill when he asked.
"Fine," and Fred got up for some water, for the eleventh time today. And, don't think the floor manager, Mr. Roy, didn't know how to count to eleven. Fred had to make the walk from his cublicle, down the aisle, and then bare the eyes of Roy in his back as he filled a drink for himself, tried to enjoy it, and then threw the cup away to get another, which he filled to take back to Clive, who would not drink after anyone for sanitation purposes.
"Here," Fred muttered, trying to sternly hand the paper cup of water to Clive, as sternly as one can hand someone a paper cup of water, "now, stop bugging me so I don't get fired."
"I can't help it if I get parched."
"You can help it if you're the one who forgot your bottled waters." Fred tried his best to look extra busy and to talk quietly. He'd surely get a walk-by from Roy.
"Mr. Farnsworth, could you come talk with me on a walk to the water fountain," Fred heard Mr. Roy ask, from the opening to his cubicle. His blood felt cold in nervousness as he stood.
"Sure, I could use a drink," and he did his best to muscle a smile.
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