Century City Neighbors Paranoid CAA Trying To Cook Them Alive In Their Offices
It's been eerily quiet in the area around 2000 Avenue of the Stars of late, a prolonged silence that seems to have neighbors a little paranoid that the CAA Death Star's outward inactivity is intended to mask the imminent unleashing of whatever sinister attack we know the evil agenting monolith is preparing within. (Couldn't they dump enormous vats of surplus baby blood into the nearby streets once in a while, just to break the tension?) Writes an operative, slicked with the sweat of fear:
I work next door to CAA (The Death Star) [in another office building]. An email went out this morning announcing that the construction workers next to our building hit a water line which feeds the AC into the building. The email stated that repairs were underway. However, an updated email went out [earlier] stating the following:
"...the air conditioning will be out the remainder of today and there's a good chance there will be no air tomorrow, also. Besides closing your blinds and in an effort to minimize the heat, I have turned off some overhead light fixtures. As a side note, this problem is prevalent in approximately five other buildings in Century City, including the Century Plaza Hotel, so at least we know we're not alone."
It has yet to be confirmed whether CAA is among the other four buildings affected, or whether they are sucking up everyone's electricity so they can launch a preemptive strike.
Another source tells us that CAA did, in fact, have properly functioning air conditioning today. While this may temporarily allay the fears that AC-deprived drones in damp Armani suits could arrive at nearby office buildings at any moment to slaughter those with more comfortable work environments, it will probably only serve to deepen the paranoia that the mass outage is merely the prelude to a planned invasion by the agency. In either scenario, the best anyone can really do is follow the advice of the above-referenced e-mail, as closing one's blinds, turning off the lights, and remaining quiet might—just might—trick the marauding Creative Artist horde into thinking your company has taken the day off and continuing on to the next office to satisfy its unspeakable bloodlust.
