Bob, from the commissary dropped his donut, right onto his khaki pants, the chocolate leaving an almost perfect circle halfway between his knee and his hip. Slowly, almost painfully the donut tumbled onto the grey carpet, chocolate clashing with the delicate maroon pattern. He sat there, slumped forward in the black padded chair, his mouth wide open, chocolate stained pants, a look of absolute amazement stamped on his face.
Bill, from Research and Development dropped his coffee, a large styrofoam cup from a local convenience store, the logo "Drink Our Coffee, We'll Make Some More" screamed from opposite sides, onto the dark wood top of the table. It did not take long for the scalding liquid to find its way to the edge. Forming a dark, steaming waterfall, it poured onto the floor with a noisy splash. Bil looked crazily, and coffeeless, at Dr. Dawg.
A breakfast burrito fell, with a wet plop, to the floor, salsa, scrambled eggs, shredded sausage, bacon and hashbrowns exploding into a splatter all around "ground zero." A China plate fell, and shattered, sending sharp, glass like pieces, and syrupy, buttery waffles all over. A glass of orange juice, and a pitcher of water, a cup of tea, and flask filled with Scotch whisky, smash, crash, splash.
Soon, Jim from Custodial Services stood up and said, "alright, that's enough. We are not cleaning this mess."
So, after cleaning the meeting room we built the ship that would take the first batch of colonists to Mars. Thank goodness we had been saving all of those parts, for all of those years. Our earliest days as a company were lean and we learned not to waste.
Tomorrow we start loading the provisions, after we negotiate what those provisions will be, of course. I hope we pick some donuts, everybody likes those. We might still have some room, if you're interested.