oversight

Herbert slouched wearily along the corridor towards Muriel's office. The last two hours' work was safe in a folder held at his side: a printout of a single sentence, carefully constructed using words of two syllables or fewer, describing a single aspect of Herbert's current workload. As requested, no assumptions of comprehension of popular business concepts had been made. Confusing conditionals and comparatives had been avoided. The pre-agreed maximal number of punctuation marks (approved types of which excluded the semicolon) had not been breached.

Muriel's door was shut. Herbert slowed and quietened his steps as he approached, breathing deeply and attempting to relax. He knocked, involuntarily reading the nameplate: "Muriel Sputterthwaite - Caustic Substance Non-Distribution Compliance Advisor". An incomprehensible impatient squawk bade him enter.

As the printed sheet was placed on her desk, Muriel barely moved. Someone observing closely may have spotted a slight flare of the nostrils. Herbert was not studying her nostrils, concentrating instead on the still-open door behind him, the corridor back to his desk and the proper, useful work he was hoping to get back to following the completion of this delivery.
"Shut the door." Not the response he would have liked. Still, he had completed exactly the task requested. Any further request would surely be reasonable and accommodating. He turned left, took a step, pushed the door shut, then tried to look neutral rather than frustrated and resigned as he turned back.

He had registered no sound or movement, but Muriel was no longer behind her desk. He turned his head to the right to look at the side of the room behind the door, which probably saved his eyesight. A stream of pungent fluid splattered on his left cheek. Flinching in the usual way, Herbert registered a sizzling noise and an emanation of the tell-tale gaseous by-products of the application of a powerful caustic liquid to unprotected human skin. Rolling towards the door, he spluttered incredulous dissatisfaction. Muriel was crouched behind her desk, a fairy liquid bottle in her hands, its slightly-melted nozzle pointing straight at Herbert. "That's not what I asked for!" she screamed, as he wrenched open the door and fled.

Holding a handkerchief over his corroded cheek, Herbert trotted along the corridor to Frank's office. Frank was his immediate reporting supervisor and one of the company's Chemical Attack Relief Officers, a position whose point Herbert had previously considered somewhat irrelevant, though he was rather glad of it now. Frank's office door was open, so Herbert trotted straight in; in ten minutes it would be time for his monthly physical safety review meeting anyway.

"Good afternoon, Herbert," said Frank in his favourite voice. "I'm glad you dropped by. Something concerning has occurred, about which we must have a conversation." If Frank had noticed the chemical abrasion of half of Herbert's face he was too polite to bring it up.

"I've something I must raise first." Herbert indicated his cheek, then offered Frank a copy of the printout he had prepared for Muriel. "I  delivered that sentence to Muriel, just like she asked, but she sprayed some sort of irritant at me. Her job's supposed to be the opposite of that." He dabbed at his cheek, wincing as the damaged flesh stuck to the handkerchief and was tugged loose. "I'd like to invoke the chemical attack relief protocols in respect of this incident."

Frank's eyes flickered as the urge to blink temporarily surfaced. He reached behind him and plucked a paper from his printer. "I find that most interesting," he said, "for Muriel just supplied some feedback about your behaviour, character and moralistic fibrosity, which I will share." He read from the paper. "She advised me seconds earlier that you presented her not with the requested report but with a painstakingly detailed pencil rendition of a large tree of the genus Araucaria, which is widely known to be too complicated." He glared briefly, then resumed "And you then recited pi to three hundred decimal places when you know fine well that precision beyond three significant figures is wasted on the administrative ranks." He put the paper on his desk. "I think you should go back right now and apologise."

Herbert had expected a little scepticism, but was confounded and vexed in equal portions by this. "Could I possibly re-state my version of events? I did the work she wanted, delivered it, then she squirted something at me which burnt a hole in my cheek. I'd like you to provide some chemical attack relief."

"I'm just delivering her report. You didn't do what she asked, then deliberately confused her. She didn't mention applying any sorts of chemicals to you. It's not part of her job description. The opposite, in fact." Frank turned back to his computational input vent, apparently concluding the discussion. "You sort it out if you think you've been corroded in some way. Nothing to do with me."

Herbert broke off his incredulous glare to glance at the poster on Frank's notice board, showing a stock image of a smiling office-drone receiving medical treatment for a chemical attack whilst his attacker was led away in manacles with the caption "here to help - your local Chemical Attack rep is:" followed by Frank's full name in his own writing. "I'm saying that the account she provided is possibly inaccurate, and that I have been subjected to a chemical attack. Do you register this?"

Frank glared again as his attention was wrested from his inputter. "As I said, I'm relaying the feedback I received. If you have a problem with it, perhaps take it up with the issuer. Her office is just down there."

"What" tetched Herbert, somewhat justifiably "if she sprays me with a caustic substance again?"

"I doubt she would." Frank responded "as I doubt she did. It's not in her job description to spray chemicals at you. Even if, I may add, you provoke her with these drawings of convoluted tree structures and displays of mathematical exactitude."

Herbert left as much derision in his voice as he felt could evade the wall-mounted detectors. "Have you noted anything I've said?"

"I've noted it fully and impartially" Frank lied, no pencil or pen having moved from his desk during the entire ordeal. "Not that it should be necessary. There's no BLAME in TEAM, remember."