Tag: #ChristianCreative

Narrator: Oishi
(Reluctant. Tired. Overqualified for this nonsense.)

Oishi (narrating):
I don’t want to do this, but apparently, I’m the designated narrator of this madness—so here we are.

I’m surrounded. Literally.
To my left: Sahsmi, an orange Chihuahua with eyes big enough to reflect existential dread.
On the rug: Bibimbap, our baby green elephant with the emotional intelligence of a therapist.
Next to him, reclining like a celebrity scandal: Tteokbokki, the baby monkey—mid-burger, always.
Staring from the aquarium with judgey bubbles: Maeutang, the fish.
And stretching out in full drama-pony glory: Bulgogi, the baby blue horse who thinks he’s majestic. He is. He’s also clumsy but he’s not on the picture yet.

Anyway.
The past few days, Sus—my melodramatic, overcaffeinated hooman—has been coming home from work absolutely buzzing with chaos.
She bursts through the door, scoops me up like I’m a purse dog, pins me under her arm, and says:

“Oishi, my badoodle—I have a juicy scoop for you!”

Then she monologues. For hours. Through dinner. Through dessert. Through my will to live.

But I love Sus. So even if her voice pierces my eardrums like a kazoo powered by drama, I listen. Because love is patient. And she has the snacks.

That said—my emotional support battery is draining faster than her phone at 3%.
So each morning, when she leaves for work, I call my friends here and unload the tales before I emotionally combust.
This, dear listener, is our ritual. And yes—there’s always a lesson, brought to you by yours truly:
Oishi, your neighborhood PhilosoFurr.

There are 11 coworkers—and one very dramatic hooman.

Meet the team behind the drama. And the abs behind the confusion.

There’s ten of them. Yes, 12 if you will count my Sus.
So don’t fall asleep on me—I know it’s a lot, but trust me, they’re all important.
Every single one of these characters is either a blessing, a lesson… or a cautionary tale wearing business casual.

So listen up.
Grab a fry.
Let’s begin.

Character 1: Susan V. – The Exaggerated Princess

Susan V. is what happens when espresso, glitter, and unchecked emotions form a union.
She’s in Customer Service but believes she’s in a high-stakes drama.
Her morning mood is sponsored by “don’t talk to me,” and by dinner she’s dramatically whispering secrets into my ear like I’m her furry therapist.

She calls me her badoodle, scoops me up like I’m a plush toy, and unleashes daily monologues that rival Netflix dramas.
She wears shirts that say “Exaggerated Princess” because truth in labeling is important.

But hey—she’s loyal, loud, and loves hard.
So even if my ears suffer emotional damage, I listen.
Because I love her.

Character 2: Yohanes Abimbola – Gossip Analyst

Yohanes isn’t technically paid to know everything—but he does.
He doesn’t spread gossip to hurt. He spreads it because he’s got a talent for “informative observation with jazz hands.”

His eyes sparkle with curiosity. His tone? Pure brunch gossip.
He’s like the Wi-Fi of workplace drama—always on, mostly harmless.

He wears mint green, pumpkin orange, and positivity.
Even when he delivers eyebrow-raising intel, it’s with a smile that says,

“I come in peace… but with details.”

We love him. Even when we pretend we don’t.

Character 3: Horatio T. – The HR Memo Monk

Horatio T. is the kind of guy who walked into HR one day and never left. Not physically. Not spiritually.

He’s got reddish-brown hair, thin-framed glasses, and a beige checkered suit so aggressively neutral it could erase your personality by eye contact alone.
His tie? Pumpkin orange. Not because he’s fun. Because it’s mandatory brand compliance.

He doesn’t talk—he issues memos.
He doesn’t walk—he stomps silently, like a disappointed librarian.

But here’s the twist:
Deep, deep down in that spreadsheet-shaped soul… he has a heart.
He’s helped employees file insurance claims like they were personal quests.
He’s just trying to keep us from setting the place on fire—with rules.

We call him the Memo Monk because if enlightenment had a PowerPoint, he would’ve written it.

Character 4: Brenda Mondragon – The Voice of Reason

Brenda is the reason this workplace hasn’t collapsed into a flaming pit of passive aggression and bad decisions.

She’s 5’6″ of calm, moisturized authority.
Her hair? Long, curly, hydrated. Her skin? Watered like a houseplant that knows its worth.
She wears a calm green outfit paired with a delicate star pendant, like a walking parable with a good skincare routine.  
And her white sneakers? Spotless. Like her reputation.

Brenda is the only one who can:

• Shush Yohanes mid-scoop.
• Block Susan from eating a dozen donuts.
• And disarm Horatio with a perfectly timed “Thank you for the memo, Horatio. We’ll take it into prayer.”

She doesn’t say much—but when she does?
It’s with biblical judgment and motherly precision.

And rumor has it—she’s inviting Susan to church.

Brenda doesn’t chase drama.
Drama knocks and Brenda answers with a raised brow and a scripture.

Character 5: Pete Erickson – The Number Snitch

He’s pale. He’s nervous. He clutches his calculator like it’s the last loaf of bread in a zombie apocalypse.
His glasses are thick enough to see into next fiscal year.
He dresses like someone who gets mad when people use the color ink in the printer. (Because he does.)

Pete’s superpower? Making everyone remember their taxes… in January.

“Don’t forget to file your W-2.”

He once tripped over a paperclip and filed an incident report… on himself.

But here’s the thing: Pete means well. He’s just… Pete.
He’s the human version of a paper jam. Awkward, unavoidable, and kind of tragic.
But he keeps us legal. Barely.

So we nod. We thank him.
And we keep our receipts—just in case.

Character 6: Macchismo D. – The Sales Adonis

According to Susan, Macchismo is “so hot, volcanoes feel self-concious.”
Her pupils turn into tiny cartoon hearts every time she talks about him.
It’s deeply concerning.

Macchismo D. works in Sales, but let’s be honest—he sells himself just by walking into a room.
He’s tall, muscular, and his raven-dark hair is so flawless.
His smile sparkles. Literally. I suspect teeth glitter. Still investigating.

He wears light blue polos like a superhero costume, and he says things like,

“Let’s close this deal, team!”
with the exact tone of someone who thinks that’s how you get promoted.

People love him.
People trust him.
And honestly? That might be the real danger.

He works under Jezzie Bell, who seems to have a lipstick-shaped leash on him.
But hey, I’m just the dog. What do I know?

For now, let’s just say this:
Macchismo D. is dazzling.

Character 7: Dinah Montgomery – The Gossip Queen

If Yohanes is the office sparkle of harmless scoop, Dinah is the cold-brew version—strong, bitter, and served with no remorse.

She walks in like she owns the building’s secrets.
Black hair sleek as betrayal, snarky eyes, and glasses that serve zero optical purpose but scream “I see everything.”
Her dark brown lipstick says “professional,” but her tone says “you’re about to get emotionally audited.”

Dinah doesn’t just spill tea—she serves it pre-scorched.
She’s not loud, but when she talks, people lean in… or leave.
Because if Dinah says:

“I saw Pete at the store,”
you know she’s about to follow it up with something like:
“…and the woman he was with wasn’t wearing a ring. Just saying.”

She doesn’t ask questions—she plants landmines.

Nobody really likes Dinah.
But nobody wants to be on her radar either.
Because if she doesn’t know your dirt… she’ll make some for you.

 Character 8: Jezzie Bell Morgan – The Corporate Siren

Jezzie Bell Morgan doesn’t walk.
She glides.
Like a well-funded lawsuit in designer heels.

Her red hair? Volcanic.
Her lipstick? Same color as danger.
Her vibe?
“Sign here, sweetheart, and lose your soul in quarterly installments.”

She’s the manager of the Sales department, which basically makes her the queen of convincing people to do things they’ll regret and thank her for afterward.
She commands with a smile that says:

“I already know what you’re going to say, and I’ve planned five responses, three bribes, and one perfectly timed sigh.”

Jezzie doesn’t need to raise her voice.
She just tilts her head and suddenly Macchismo is nodding like a bobblehead in a sauna.

Her earrings sparkle.
Her fingernails point like accusations.
And when she says “trust me,” your instincts scream no—but your career prospects whisper yes.

No one’s sure what she wants.
But they know not to get in her way.

Character 9: Philip Vaughn – The Office White Knight

Most people in the office don’t pay much attention to Philip Vaughn.
He’s listed as Internal Ops Assistant, which is corporate speak for “does everything quietly and without applause.”

He doesn’t talk much.
He doesn’t insert himself in gossip.
He just shows up—early, focused, clean notebook, clean shirt, eyes like he’s reading your soul and your Google search history.

But here’s the part no one really gets:
When things go wrong—when Jezzie’s manipulating, Dinah’s detonating, and Macchismo is flexing his moral confusion—
Philip steps in.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
He just does the right thing like it’s muscle memory.

Word around the breakroom is he’s a war veteran, which makes sense.
He’s calm in chaos.
Gentle with people.
But firm when boundaries are crossed.

He’s got white knight energy—the kind that doesn’t ask for credit.
The kind that protects without performance.
The kind that doesn’t bow to office power games or ego theatrics.

You’ll probably overlook him.
But he’s watching.
And if you’re one of the good ones?
He’s already in your corner.

Character 10: Jasper P. – The Intern Who Spills Coffee and Feelings

Jasper P. is the intern.
You’ll know it the second you meet him—partly because he’ll tell you, and partly because he’ll already be apologizing for something.

He’s got long-ish curly hair, permanently startled eyes, and the overall energy of someone who’s late for a meeting that doesn’t exist.

He talks like a rapper who’s been hit with a mild anxiety attack:

“Yo, yo, my bad, my fault, I was gonna fix that spreadsheet but then I spilled my latte and—uh—Pete slipped on it but he’s fine I think, and also the printer’s making a weird noise?”

Jasper spills coffee, tea, water, information, and vibes.
But he means well. And that’s the part that matters.

And every time he spills something (which is… often), Ishmael appears—quietly, mop in hand.
Never scolds. Never sighs. Just cleans up.

Jasper may be clumsy.
But he’s trying.
And that makes him important.
Not because he’s perfect—but because he wants to be better.

Character 11: Ishmael – The Janitor With a Mysterious Calm

Ishmael is… different.
He doesn’t say much.
He doesn’t need to.

He wears an old janitor uniform, faded and clean.
Silver hair, quiet eyes, and a beard that says “I’ve seen things, but I’ve forgiven most of them.”

He’s always there.
Not in a creepy way—more in a divine timing, slow-motion mop-wielding kind of way.

Someone spills coffee? Ishmael’s already halfway there.
Printer explodes? Ishmael’s got a wrench, a rag, and a quote from Proverbs.
Jezzie tries to verbally flatten a coworker? Ishmael makes eye contact once, and she forgets her next sentence.

People treat him like just a janitor.
But those of us who watch—we know.
There’s something about him that feels bigger.

He moves like a man with nothing to prove and everything to teach—if you’re paying attention.

They call him Ishmael the Janitor.
But honestly?
We don’t know who he really is.
Not yet.

And that’s the crew.

Now you know who’s who.
So when the drama starts—you won’t get lost.

The real office saga begins in Episode 2.
See You!
📡 Totally Made-Up Company Alert: The Signal Co.: Not your internet provider — but we will disconnect your emotional stability. We don’t sell broadband. We sell breakdowns.