EPISODE 12 "What's everybody here for?" the Boss asks, peering worriedly at the long line of people extending out of the wedged-open door of Mission Control, continuing on down the corridor.

"It's the amnesty," the PFY replies.

"The amnesty?"

"Oh, I forget!" the PFY says. "You've not been here that long. Every year or so we run an amnesty, where users can fess up to damaging, destroying, or losing our equipment, no questions asked."

"No questions?"

"Well, typically they'll explain what they did, because it's amnesty day – for one day only – and there's no retribution."

"Retribution?!"

"Yeah. Well, take this bloke. This is his six-month-old laptop. It's a laptop that we expressly told him – several times – not to carry around with the cables still plugged in. And what did he do?"

"I... uh..."

"He caught it in the lift door, damaging the power socket so that it only works if you put a book on the plug to hold it in a particular position."

"Well, surely you can repla-"

"The rest of the USB-C functionality – i.e. the ability to use a dock, plug in an external mouse, etc., no longer works from that port."

"Can't he use another port?"

"Remember how I said several times? Yeah... There are no ports left. So anyway, retribution would normally see him 'upgraded' to a 19-inch i3 series 3 laptop, retrofitted with lead-acid batteries, along with an OHP and some slides – for his presentations."

"But not today," I say, entering the conversation and handing our user a new-ish replacement machine. "Today we'll take his laptop and replace it with a similar model from a location where it's not needed."

"So... you're just replacing people's equipment?" the Boss asks, as our user wanders off happily.

"Sometimes. Other times, people just want to admit to, say, plugging an HDMI cable directly into a meeting room display instead of using the wall socket provided – then tripping over the cable and munging up the only spare HDMI socket in the screen. Then sneaking out of the room and pretending it was like that when they came in. Isn't that what happened?"

The next user in front of us looks rather sheepish.

"But no matter!" I continue. "We'll move that screen to another location with a lower use requirement, and it'll be good as new!"

Our next user departs, relieved.

"How's all this being paid for?"

"As he said," the PFY responds, nodding at me, "we often just move items to an area that has a lower use requirement – somewhere the damage is unlikely to be noticed, or to someone that everybody hates. The rest of the damaged items were – tragically – destroyed in that fire."

"What fire?"

"The big fire we had," I reply.

"When was that?" the Boss gasps.

"Tomorrow morning," I say. "Probably."

"Yes," the PFY says. "The big fire in the storage room. Like the one about four years ago – after which the insurance company told us we couldn't store large quantities of isopropyl in the building."

"Or the one about two years ago, when the insurance company told us that storing piles of small pieces of timber – kindling, they called it, though the PFY maintained that he'd bought it to make a three-dimensional model of a CPU – on top of a piece of powered-up equipment with a dodgy heatsink during stress testing."

"No," the PFY says, "we're very cautious about that sort of stuff now. Anyway, changing the topic a little – I'm thinking about taking up a hobby."

"Really?" I cry. "I collect matchboxes and matchbooks – I've got boxes of them. Would you like me to bring in my collection to show you, tomorrow maybe?"

"I was more thinking about collecting antique firearms," the PFY admits. "And it turns out there's a local company who supplies bulk black powder – with next-day delivery!!"

"Wait a minute," the Boss interrupts. "That's not how insurance works."

"Sure it is. All the stuff's damaged. We're just... consolidating... our claim. Think of the admin fees that a single large claim will save the insurer. They should be thanking us."

"No," the Boss insists.

"So what do we tell this user?" I say, pointing to the next in line. "By the look of it she has a laptop that her children have been using... as... an ice cream container?"

"I… uh..." she says.

"I'll let you decide," the Boss says smugly. "But we're not spending money on your little side hustle – and we're not indulging in insurance fraud."

... The next day ...

"There's something wrong with my laptop," the Boss says. "The keys are sticking."

"Have you been using this as an ice cream container?" the PFY asks, looking at the keyboard carefully.

"No."

"It certainly looks like it."

"Wait. That's not my laptop!"

"Sure it is. It was on your desk, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but it's not my laptop!"

"Please. Next you'll be telling me that your wall monitor didn't always have a broken HDMI cable."

"What?! Look, I want my old laptop back!"

"Ah, you mean the one with the broken USB-C ports."

"NO. I want MY old laptop."

"But that IS your old laptop. I could check the serial number in the fixed asset register, but I'm pretty sure it'll match that machine."

"I bet it won't."

"Oh it does. I just checked it this morning, coincidentally. In fact, I checked all your asset numbers and all of them match. The iPad with the cracked screen, the multifunction printer that's had vinyl run through it..."

"I don't have a multifunction printer."

"The asset register says you do. A real monster, with four A3 trays. I'm surprised you didn't smell the burned plastic when you opened the door."

"Was that what that smell…"

"Then there's the secure shelf unit with the electronic lock that doesn't have a way of supplying power when the internal battery runs out. Apparently that's where you keep all those spare laptops with the broken hinges. That said, not many of our users have a portable diesel backup generator that you accidentally filled with petrol after taking it camping."

"I've never BEEN camping," the Boss sighs. "OK, you win. We can have an amnesty day."

"Yeah. We did. It was yesterday. One day only. TODAY, you just have a lot of broken crap."

"So, nothing in my office works?" the Boss snaps.

"There is a gas-powered fire starter in your top drawer," the PFY suggests. "Oh, and a 5 kg carton of black powder."

"They're on top of that generator..." I add. ®

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