Said Subordinate

"Hello?"

"Hiiiiii boss", the perky voice on the other end of the line said in a singsong voice. It was Alice Corbin, Maryanne's long suffering personal assistant.

"Mrs. Corbin, I was just about to call you."

"Oh reeeaaally?" Something was weird about the voice, but Maryanne couldn't tell what it was.

"This video you sent me is NOT the Anderson project file. It's some sort of weird art film!"

The voice giggled. "Oh, so you watched it?"

"Of course I watched it you twit," Maryanne shouted into the phone. "But keep your stupid art projects to yourself!"

"Oh how..." the voice on the other line dropped its apparently fake sincerity. "Wonderful. Now, don't hang up." Maryanne suddenly recognized what was wrong with her secretary's voice -- it was dripping with malice.

"What?"

"Be quiet."

Maryanne went to make a retort, but found, with a growing horror, that she couldn't open her mouth.

"Ah, so much better." The voice on the end of the line giggled. It was not a nice sound. "I suppose you are wondering what is happening to you."

'Of course I am you prat!', Maryanne thought, as she tried and failed to hang up the phone.

"I guess I'll tell you, though you don't deserve it. That tape you had on it is magic. Or something, I donno how it works. All I know is you see it once and you do whatever you're told for a week. Only thing that will make you stop is making someone else watch the video. By the way, do not attempt to get someone else to watch the video. I want you stuck like this for a while."

"Now I want you to remember, Mrs. Price, about a week ago when you sent me home for being... less than appropriately attired at the office."

How could Maryanne forget! It was the scandal of the month when her own personal assistant had arrived at work wearing what looked like a cross between a pink ballerina dress and a bucket of latex paint. Even worse, it was only technically what one would call clothing, showing off most of the young woman's chest and letting anyone behind her know she wasn't wearing underwear.

She had sent her home immediately, of course. Without pay. She had wanted to fire her, but HR wouldn't let her, not without a formal warning.

"Yeah, yeah, the pink nightmare. Needless to say, it wasn't exactly my choice, but that didn't even remotely come into your head, did it? Answer me when I ask you a question."

"No, it did not."

"Well, I got rid of the tape by making my roommate watch it, but I decided, you know, I don't actually hate my roommate. Now, if only there was someone else around, someone whom I rather disliked..."

Maryanne swallowed, hard.

"That would be YOU, dear! Now, I've spent the last few days trying to think up a great little game to play, and after a few days, I have it."