Narrator: Oishi (as if there’s anyone else classy enough for this role)
As usual, Susan was at work — emotionally caffeinated, philosophically unprepared — and last night she dumped an entire story on me. I must now share it with you, dear reader, so I don’t suffer alone in silence.
It was Friday — the world’s emotional support day. Busy, but chill. The boss lady, Cassandra, had just called in a food order for the staff. She’s not always in the office, but she shows love the best way she knows how: carbs.
Now Cassandra is so poised, even Jezzie Bell and Dinah get insecure just by breathing in her cologne mist. She walks by, and suddenly everyone’s fixing their posture and pretending their spreadsheets aren’t fanfiction.
At The SIGNAL Co., gossip is a language. A lifestyle. Possibly an inherited condition. It was barely 8:00 AM when Yohanes crashed into the department like a news anchor possessed, shouting,
“MAKE WAY! I am reporting live from Rome — I have pope-level information.”
Susan, mid-donut. Brenda, the only one actually working, half-listening. Yohanes? Fully seated on Susan’s desk, wearing the energy of a caffeinated pigeon.
“There’s a reshuffle coming! Someone’s getting transferred!” Gasp — Susan almost drops her donut. Gasp — Yohanes inhales like he saw his own funeral. Gasp — Brenda doesn’t gasp. She fact-checks.
And then… Dinah.
Lurking. Listening. Lurking again.
She swoops in with that “just sharing, not saying” energy and drops this:
“I heard it’s Pete from Accounting. Apparently he messed up the company taxes.”
(No source. No logic. Just Dinah.)
Let the record show: Pete didn’t mess anything up. He asked Dinah for her tax computations, and she didn’t submit them. So now she’s blaming him for the delay. Classic.
Susan nearly faints. Yohanes looks ready to call CNN. Brenda, still grounded, says:
“Pete is the spreadsheet. He once calculated his way out of a traffic ticket.”
Dinah shrugs, throws her hands in the air and goes,
“Well… maybe he’s getting old. Just saying.”
Meanwhile, Jasper the intern approaches to give Susan her coffee. Unfortunately, Dinah’s hand is involved. A dramatic wrist flourish sends the coffee flying — all over Susan.
And Dinah?
“Ugh. Stupid intern. Why didn’t you walk around me?”
Jasper is mortified. Susan is sticky. And Ishmael, the janitor, glides in like a mop-wielding monk.
“Ma’am,” he says gently to Dinah, “he couldn’t have predicted your… hand choreography.”
Enter Horatio T. HR rep. Memo collector. Passive-aggressive with a soul.
He bursts from his office and booms:
“WHAT IN THE NAME OF DATA PRIVACY AND EMOTIONAL DAMAGE IS GOING ON HERE?!”
Dinah (of course) points at Yohanes:
“He started spreading gossip about Pete!”
Yohanes panics. Apologizes. Dinah smiles like a cat that deleted your files.
But even Horatio — who writes memos for therapy — can see the truth.
“ENOUGH. If there’s any transfer happening, I’ll be the one to announce it. I am HR. And FYI… no one’s being transferred.”
Yep. It was Dinah. Making things up. Again.
Later that day, Susan, Yohanes, and Brenda are whispering at the fire exit, still doing a full debrief. Then they hear two male voices from below.
One says:
“‘Do not go about spreading slander among your people. Do not do anything that endangers your neighbor’s life. I am the LORD.’ – Leviticus.”
Susan gasps:
“Wait — who’s Leviticus?! Is that Pete’s replacement?”
Yohanes:
“Or the new Data Analyst?”
Brenda rolls her eyes so hard the floor shakes:
“It’s a book in the Bible. That’s a verse. From the actual Bible Leviticus 19:16 !
They peek down and see… Ishmael. Quietly chatting with Horatio, who — surprisingly — sometimes seeks Ishmael’s advice.
Turns out, the janitor isn’t just wise. He’s scripturally sharp. Horatio had asked how to handle gossip. And Ishmael simply quoted the truth.
MEMO from Horatio T. – Subject: Defamation of Character (aka Gossip Ends Here)
To all employees (even if you’re morally bankrupt):
Gossip is part of our survival strategy in the office. Without it, how else would we bond over microwaved spaghetti? But let me make this clear—if your gossip causes harm, it will be your employment status that gets reshuffled.
Let’s build each other up, not burn each other down. In accordance with company policy… And the Book of Leviticus.
Or pack up your decorative mugs and leave.
Later that day, Susan and Yohanes didn’t gossip. They talked about the weather in Spain.
And Dinah? Well… she was unusually quiet. Either she’s reflecting, plotting, or Googling “Leviticus.” Who knows?
✍️ Writer’s Note
Hey, it’s me — Ember.
Just a little disclaimer:
The people in this story? Fictional. The chaos? Slightly exaggerated. But the message? Very real.
After nearly 20 years in different workplaces, I’ve seen how gossip — even the “light” kind — can spread fast and hit deep. I’ve been a Susan and a Yohanes. This episode isn’t just for laughs… it’s a gentle reminder: Let’s build each other up, not tear each other down.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for growing with me.
—Ember 🐾
Still learning. Still rising. Still talking to Oishi.
It was just an ordinary day — raining outside, chips in hand, cuddling on the couch with Oishi. We were watching our favorite show: The Detective Agency, starring Sera, Rhys, and Nova (you remember them from Episode 4: Oishi’s Nightmare).
It was all fun and fiction until — BOOM. A car exploded on screen right as thunder cracked outside.
Then came another boom — lightning struck the electric post. And just like that, the power went out. The house went dark. The neighborhood? A blackout.
Narrator: Oishi, Scared to Death
I was about to suggest we get the flashlight when we heard it — Footsteps. Wind howling. A loud “awooooooo.” Like a ghost-wolf who forgot to mind his volume.
Susan clutched me like a stuffed toy, and I — a brave, diaper-wearing Shi Tzu — called upon the Mighty Paw. Susan, on the other hand, went full Pentecostal. “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, I rebuke you!”
Whoa. Sus? You believe in the Big Guy? You don’t even read the Bible. You read “How to Get Slim Without Exercising” and air fryer recipes.
And… “Listen, I was so scared I didn’t even notice Susan changed outfits. One minute she’s in orange, next she’s in green — either we’re haunted or she packed for the apocalypse.”
Suddenly, the Mighty Paw appeared — calm, glowing, mildly judgmental. Tears welled up in my eyes. “Mighty Paw! Use your powers! Make the ghosties disappear!”
He shook his noble head. “Oh, you silly Little PhilosoFurr. I don’t have that kind of power. But I know someone who does. He’s the One who can calm bad spirits — and even Susan’s tantrums. You can tell Him anything — even how much you love chimken.”
My tail twitched. “Please just tell me who! I’m scared! My soul is shaking and my diaper is full!”
Before he answered, a bright light filled the room.
Narrator: Oishi, Humbled & Slightly Wet
He wore white. He raised His hand. He smiled at me — gently, warmly — and said:
“Hi Oishi. I’m Jesus.”
I was in awe. He looked so peaceful… unlike me and Susan, who were still running around like squirrels on espresso. But I noticed something: He had a hole in His hand. And yet — He smiled.
Then, without a single word, the ghosts — human and paw — saw Him and immediately vanished.
Susan fell to her knees, sobbing. I think she howled. Like… elephant-style. “THANK YOU, JESUS!!”
And me? No, I didn’t hug Him right away.
I peed first. Then I hugged Him.
He whispered:
“I love you, Oishi. I love Susan. And I will always protect you.”
And I believed Him. Because no matter how brave I try to be — Susan’s kind of a lot. (And if you haven’t noticed, she’s… large.)
PS. She really committed to that praise pose like she was trying to send a signal to heaven and win an Oscar. 🙄 I didn’t say anything… but in my mind? “Not this again, Susan.”
Narrator: Susan, the Emotionally Unsupervised Hooman Friday night: the people’s champion. Universally voted the second-best day after Saturday. After a long week of Zoom meetings, adulting, and Pete’s never-ending monologue about accounting taxes (ugh), it was finally here.
Narrator: Oishi (yes, I’m a dog—keep up) Susan came bursting through the door like a caffeinated hurricane, slamming the car shut and storming into the house. I was mid-nap, belly-up, living my best Shih Tzu life, when suddenly—scoop!
She squealed, “OISHI! We’re going Karaokeeeee with Yohanes and Brenda! They booked a bar!” Then she tied my red bandana like I was going to prom. I licked her face out of sheer survival instinct. She tasted salty, but emotionally enthused. I tolerated it.
We arrived. It was a tiny room with a screen, two mics, and the heavy scent of regret. Susan grabbed the remote and went full maniac mode. The second the intro played, she clutched the mic like she was accepting a Grammy. Yohanes and Brenda screamed “GO SUS!” like she was Beyoncé’s backup singer.
Then it started. 🎵 “I cried a tear, you wiped it dry…” 🎵 Yes. Anne Murray’s You Needed Me. The drama. The vibrato. The unblinking eye contact.
I was concerned. But that concern escalated when Yohanes and Brenda started singing APT by Rose and Bruno Mars. Not just singing—dancing. If I were a human, I would’ve put my hand on my forehead and softly muttered, “No.”
But… it wasn’t all bad.
There was food. Savory. Glorious. Human-grade food. While they performed their emotional talent show, I worked the snack table like a professional. I’m not proud. I am full.
We went home. We ate more. Then I passed out.
Oishi, out. 🎤🐾
No deep reflections from your Little Philisophurr today. Why? Because Susan said this one’s just a regular Friday. Not everything has to be profound. Sometimes, we just vibe.
MEMO from Horatio T. – Subject: Defamation of Character (aka Gossip Ends Here)
Ember - Fire and Soul 