The mens room was empty and the light was off. The light had one of those motion sensors that turned on automatically when someone walked in.
Phil teleported into the middle of the room. The lights stayed off because he didn’t come in the door and apparently this motion detector pointed only at the door. He fumbled around for a full ten minutes trying to turn the lights on. Finally, a thirty something man in a two hundred dollar golf shirt opened the door, the light came on and he saw Phil.
“How did THIS happen?”
“Donno,” said Phil.
“I’ll have maintenance check it out. The light should be on.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s okay. Really.”
“I’ll have him do it anyway.”
Phil went into the bathroom stall. The man stepped up the Urinal and did his ritual. After finishing, he took off his watch, walked over to the sink and washed his hands. Then he put it back on and left the lavatory. The door closed.
“Cassie is this the place?” whispered Phil.
“Yes. This is where he works.”
Phil took out a magic marker and wrote in a perfect script a message on the stall door.
“If I’m going to do graffiti, it was goddamn going to be good graffiti.”
“Yeah, well get used to it,” said Cassie. This world has a strong hell-world potential and could get really nasty with technology.”
“Okay. Done,” said Phil.
Phil morsed on his watch to teleport out of the bathroom and was soon gone.
Four minutes later, the door opened. The light went on. A depressed looking young man with a thirty dollar golf shirt, who apparently worked for the guy with the two hundred dollar golf shirt, walked to the bathroom stall. He closed the door, dropped his drawers and gazed at the floor.
He didn’t look up until he was finished. When he did look up to stand, he saw this:
“In a hell world, you can still learn to dance and laugh the laugh of an enlightened Universe.”
He went immediately back to his office. Got a sticky pad. Came back. Wrote it down. Went back. Stuck it on his cubicle. Went back to work.