Jeremy snorted. "Therapeutic," he muttered.
He unlocked a final achievement: "The Silent Treatment." The avatar simply walked up to the boss, looked him in the eye, and refused to do a single thing. The boss’s smile faltered. He tapped his watch. He tapped his desk. He started yelling in silent, speech-bubble expletives. Eventually, the cartoon Mr. Crane slumped over, defeated not by violence, but by the one thing he couldn't command: a subordinate’s voluntary action.
Again.
For a moment, his real cubicle felt colder. The hum of the lights returned. And there, standing in the doorway, was the real Mr. Crane. No pixelation. No spiraling eyes. Just a tired man in a wrinkled shirt holding a stack of papers.
He clicked.
Jeremy clicked the computer monitor. His avatar ripped the plug from the wall and swung it like a lasso. Crack. The pixelated boss slumped over the keyboard, a cloud of "ZZZ" icons drifting up. Reset. Smile.
Then the novelty faded.
For a second, confusion flickered across his boss’s face. Then, something rare: a nod of respect.