Just answer no . . . just answer no . . .

[Cindy C.]

The oak door opened abruptly, bouncing hard off something blocking 
its path.  "Is someone out there?" a raspy voice demanded.

"Yes . . . ," Cindy said faintly, "down here.  It's . . . it's me, 
Mr. Mulciber.  I -- I've been trying to get your attention, sir."

"Why didn't you just *knock?*  And what are you doing lying outside 
my office?  Get *up,* for heaven's sake!"  He narrowed his eyes 
suspiciously at the neatly folded parchment in Cindy's hand.  "You 
were going to slide that under my door, weren't you?"

"NO!  No, no, no!"  Cindy said quickly, hauling herself up from the 
tile floor.  "I was going to give it to you, I swear!  I –- I was 
going to knock -– I was -- but I seem to be having some shooting 
pains and numbness in my fingers and wrists, sir.  From all the 
typing, you see.  They feel a little better when I press them 
against something really cold like the floor here, so I --"

"Stop wasting my time!" Mulciber broke in, his arms folded over his 
chest, his eyes boring into Cindy.  "What do you want?"

"I -– I wanted to give you my message block.  34,001-35,000, sir."  
Cindy said proudly.  "It's all there.  You can count it yourself, if 
you like."

There was a tense silence as Mulciber studied the 
parchment.  "Excellent!" he declared, beaming at Cindy.  The green 
fluorescent light in the hall glinted off a single gold tooth in his 
upper jaw.  "You'll be starting to work on another message block 
straight away then, am I right?"

"Uh . . . " Cindy said, taking one tentative step backward.  "Well, 
sir, I was just going to talk to you about that.  You *know* how I 
love doing message blocks, really, I do.  But just between you and 
me, sir, I'm totally *beat.*  I mean like -- *Whew!*  As much as I'd 
*love* to start another one, I could really use a teensy little 
break.  I'm sure you understand.  It's nothing personal, honestly.  
I think I'll go home and have myself a bit of a lie in, as you 
British folks like to say.  I've always really liked that 
phrase 'lie in' –- it's so very proper and British and all -- 'lie 
in,' yes.  Really, it's been *great* working with you, Mr. Mulciber, 
and I'll see you in -–"

"IMPERIO!" 

And Cindy felt, for the third but actually only the second time in 
her life, the sensation that her mind had been wiped of all 
thought . . . Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though she 
were floating, dreaming . . . . just catalogue messages . . . just 
catalogue messages . . . catalogue messages . . . 

I will not, said another voice in the back of her head, I won't 
catalogue messages . . . 

Just catalogue messages . . . 

I won't do it, I won't . . .

Just catalogue messages . . .

"I WON'T!"

And these words burst from Cindy's mouth; they echoed through the 
hallway, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold 
water had been thrown over her –- back rushed the aches that the 
cataloguing had left all over her body –- backed rushed the 
realization of where she was, and what she was facing . . . 

"You won't?" said Mulciber quietly.  "You won't catalogue?  Cindy, 
obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you have a lie 
in . . . Perhaps another little dose of pain?"

"WHOA!" Cindy exclaimed, her open hands raised in the air.  "Did I 
just say that out loud?  The part about 'I won't?'  You want another 
message block, sir?  Anything you say!  You can count on me, Mr. 
Mulciber.  Coming right up!  It's the *least* I can do, don't you 
think?  How about if I get started on Message Block 39001-40000 
right this minute?"

Mulciber grabbed Cindy's shoulders, turned her around, and pushed 
her roughly down the hall toward the FAQ group.  "I knew I could 
count on you, Cindy," he called after her.

***********

Cindy – who caught a break in the last 20 posts when lots of people 
answered a question about when GoF would come out in paperback 
(skip, skip, skip), but who was *nailed* by a Catlady 9-part 
combined post in the very last message