My Coworkers Aren't Human

My name is He Yu, and I'm an overworked nine-to-nine, six-days-a-week office drone.

I feel like none of my coworkers are human.

Here is my evidence:

"Xiao Li can feed himself."

My boyfriend scoops up a spoonful of soup and feeds it to me. "Isn't that normal?"

"How is that normal?" I explain in horror, gesturing with my hands. "His head is beside me, but his body is across from me, and he's feeding himself."

"And Old Zhao!" I shudder. "How can someone write nine thousand lines of code in a day? I suspect he's an octopus."

My boyfriend wipes my mouth. "Can't you do that too?"

I roll my eyes at him and say righteously, "I do that with Control+C and Control+V."

I list all the abnormal things about my company for my boyfriend, especially the product manager. "That guy can't possibly be human. He doesn't even understand what people say. If he has a request, he should just make it. Instead, he stands around making wishes. I'm a programmer, not a turtle in a wishing pond."

"Then I'll fire him," says the big boss.

"You can't." I glare at him. "Who's going to deal with the clients if he's gone?"

Those clients are so terrifying they're worse than ghosts. I'm getting a little sleepy, so my boyfriend opens his arms to me. "Come on, time for bed."

I climb into his heart, pull his chest cavity over me like a blanket, and yawn. "What are we having tomorrow morning?"

"Old Wang next door."

"Turtle for breakfast? That's too fishy."

Old Wang next door trembles as he passes the boss's house, drops off the tribute, and scurries away with a frightened yelp.

Theme: Everyone is equal. Keep a low profile.