The office printer whirred to life, displaying its morning greeting message to Glen. ‘Replace toner. Unable to print’ Glen slid the toner tray open and shut quickly, not fulfilling the printer’s request. The printer chunked and clunked as it thought about what retort to say next. ‘Paper jam. Error 505. Please unjam printer’

Glen waved his hands in frustration as he walked back to his office in frustrated defeat. “It always says paper jam, but it hasn’t even printed any paper.” He whispers loudly to himself, drawing the attention of nearby colleagues. He makes his way to the doorway of his office, still rubbing his brow, hoping this would summon an answer to his printing dilemma. Looking up at his desk he saw…himself?

Glen stopped in visible confusion inside of his office. The stranger, typing at Glen’s computer, paused and looked up briefly before resuming his typing.

“Who are you? Why do you look like me?” Glen asked with assertion. He didn’t have time for a printer jam let alone office shenanigans.

“I’m you, well as you should be.” The stranger spoke, his eyes not leaving the computer screen.

“What? And get away from my computer, that’s proprietary information. I could have you arrested!” Glen retorted, clearly angry with the strangers lack of respect to his presence. The stranger holds up his index finger, indicating for Glen to wait. Glen stops in his tracks, unsure why he complied. The stranger finishes typing with a flurry of strokes and a swift final press of the enter key. His gaze meets Glen at last.

“Speaking of proprietary, you mishandled some information in Johannesburg. We can’t have the Glen.” The stranger firmly stated. He snapped his fingers twice. Suddenly two burly men appeared behind Glen and threw a sack over his head before lifting him off of his feet. He struggled and tried to escape their grip with futile resistance. They dragged him out of the office and soon the building as he screamed and yelled in frustration for this treatment.

The stranger resumed typing at Glen’s desk, the colleagues surrounding the commotion only briefly removing their attention from their respective screens before also getting back to their work.

Just another day at the clandestine services.