Major Paperclip

There was once a Major who was proud to be in charge of paperclips. His comrades carried M2 Brownings to kill as many people as possible, but he was proud to carry a heavy duty staple gun. He was smug that while his comrades murdered the opposition, innocent civilians and sometimes each other, he only killed time. Major Paperclip enjoyed reading office supplies catalogues, and running audits of stock. He noted his colleagues only read pornography and counting how many cigarettes they had left. He also noted that while they might invade countries, he only invaded other people's personal space.

One day, General Postit announced that paper cuts were required. Not little cuts, but HUGE cuts. He called Major Paperclip into his office, and pointed to a chart on the wall. The chart was bisected by a red line, plunging to the bottom right hand corner. General Postit stamped his foot, hammered the desk with a fat fist and shouted that DRASTIC reorganisation was required to save money. The General inhaled momentarily and then spat out the chaser, 'AND THERE MUST BE NO DROP IN EFFICIENCY'.

Other majors might have been overwhelmed by the size and complexity of the task. Not Major Paperclip. After many hundreds of hours of careful thought, he experienced a dawn of realisation in his early morning bath. The answer to all the organisation's problems would be to KEEP THE STATIONERY CUPBOARDS TIDY. He leapt out of the bath and ran out into the street shouting his excitement.

Major Paperclip organised meeting after meeting, with more and more complicated spreadsheets and more and more computerised presentations in sinister, darkened rooms. The meetings were so important they required that more and more of the highest grade officers attend. The higher the grade, the longer the meeting and the more numerous the officers, the happier Major Paperclip became. The meetings were like a virus, spreading through the building.

The next day in the office, wearing his smartest dress uniform, complete with sword, he held the highest tier meeting he could muster and dispatched every person present to their respective stationery cupboards to make sure they were well organised. He marched back and forth as senior officers hurriedly wrote 'biros' and 'staples - 26/6' on sticky labels and affixed them to the melamine shelving. He ran his fingers round the inside of his shiny Sam Browne and barked the occasional order about whether hole punches (being heavier than lever arch files) should be stowed lower or higher up.

While Major Paperclip was managing to keep so many staff busy checking treasury tags and C5 (window) envelope stock and General Postit admired his updated chart with the red line pointing back at the ceiling again, no one noticed the invaders approaching.

 Disclaimer: Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is
purely coincidental.