Yesterday's prompt for a monologue or rant: THE SHARED DOCUMENT

Here's a great one!

“I just opened the shared doc and—guess what?—someone changed my formatting. Again.

I didn’t think it was possible to feel violated by a font, but here we are. I use Helvetica because it’s clean, neutral, adult. Someone changed it to Comic Sans. Comic Sans. That’s not a font, that’s a cry for help.

And now there are comments. Everywhere. Little digital post-it notes, all anonymous and passive-aggressive: ‘Maybe reword this?’ ‘Consider shortening?’ No name, just a yellow bubble of judgment floating over my paragraph like a cloud of smug.

And someone—some brave little saboteur—added a paragraph I didn’t write. My name is on this doc. If it goes out like this, I look like the idiot who thinks “impactful” is a real word.

I used to write things by hand. I had a fountain pen. No comments. No track changes. Just me and the page. Now it’s me and twelve ghosts with bad taste.

I swear, if I find out who changed that font… I will replace their face with Wingdings.”

We asked for an opening inspired by this monologue:

“Why did I agree to a potluck? I hate potlucks. It’s like competitive humility. Everyone acts chill, but it’s secretly a culinary death match in Tupperware.

‘Oh, I just threw this together!’ No you didn’t, Claire. That’s a three-layer Moroccan spiced couscous tower with edible flowers and pomegranate drizzle.

And now I have to show up with hummus. From a tub. That I’m putting in my own dish so no one knows I bought it. Which makes it worse! Now it’s not just lazy, it’s deceitful.

Why does food feel like a personality test? And why do I always fail?

I just want to show up, eat someone else’s lasagna, and not feel like a fraud.

But no. I’m going to lie about the hummus, compliment Claire’s couscous, and die a little inside next to the quinoa salad that spells someone’s name in olives.”

Here's one great initiation:

"Welcome to my little HR office, Ted. Siddown. As your mentor, and I hope friend, it's time for me to conduct your annual appraisal. Ted, I'm afraid I have bad news. I have to confess, I've never seen this in all my corporate career. You've failed your personality test..."

We asked you to establish the character for: A kidnapper

Here's a great example: