The Table Is Made Out Of Board

“Oh, hey boss.”

“Where did everybody go?”

“Uh, what do you mean? It's just the six of us.”

“There were eighteen people at this meeting.”

“Were there? I just remember the five of us.”

“Six. No, Michael is gone now. Five.”

“Michael was never at the meeting. Who's Michael?”

“Great. And how long have you been dancing?”

“Uhhh... I don't know. Always? Haven't we always danced? Our whole lives?”

“Dammit. I was warned about this table. Something about a lost temple. Dark and ancient rites. Why didn't I listen? Now I only have five staff left.”

“Four. We've always been four.”

“Shut up. I have to think. Who can I call? Maybe the guy who sold me the table, but then I would have to admit he was right and I was wrong. I could call an occult specialist, but they can't keep a secret, they'd probably even leak it to the newspapers. Well, I guess the only solution is to seal the room forever. Only three people left anyway. No, two. It'll be over soon enough.”

“Actually, boss, what do you think will happen when there is only one left?”

“What?”

“I can hear them now. They are nearly done choosing.”

“Well, shit. I always knew the board didn't like me.”