Sort of related: my brother wanted to play with my dad one day back in the 90s but he was trying to finish doing some thing on his computer. He was always on it though. When my dad said he would in a little bit my brother said, “stupid pooter…”.

Employee Number 427’s job was simple: he sat at his desk in room 427, and he pushed buttons on a keyboard. Orders came to him through a monitor on his desk, telling him what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order. This is what Employee 427 did every day of every month and every year, and although others might have considered it soul-rending, Stanley relished every moment that the orders came in, as though he had been made exactly for this job.