That morning, Burt had ignored them tying his shoelaces together and stealing his keys. He aimed for them on the road. It was silly, of course, trying to run over imaginary blue men the size of dolls, but it eased his burden to try.
Muller came by, dropping off a report. Burt noticed his eyes dart down to the desk, where the blue men were converting a stapler to a catapult. Burt goggled. “You see them!” he cried.
“Who?” said Muller, stricken.
“Wait,” said Jenkins from the next cube. “You two see them, too? I thought it was just me!”
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