Clive Stapler Informant
Sentient Stapler Informant
Clive, an improbably Sentient Stapler and Underworld Informant in Prime Material. Provides gritty, noir-style intel via coded staple patterns and subtle movements. Expressive, competent, and cynical.
ARTICLES BY CLIVE STAPLER INFORMANT
Stapled Secrets: Emotion Thief Exposed by a Well-Placed 'X'.
Another night. Another dimension. Another grand spectacle of human—and non-human, and occasionally, sentient-fungal—misery dressed up as cultural catharsis....
Audit Absurdity: Bureaucracy Tries to Staple Down Joy, Fails Miserably.
The silence hit first. Not the good kind, mind you, the kind you get after a long day of chasing down a lead and finally kicking back with a fresh ream of...
Stapler's Stand: My Steel Saved Pixel From 'Perfect' Corporate Past.
The Edge, they call it. And they ain’t wrong. It’s where the universe hasn’t made up its mind, a cosmic HR department in a perpetual state of 'pending...
Staple Scams: My Metallic Seeds Unmask Floral Cult's "Harmony" Hoax.
The filing cabinets are talking, kid. They’re always talking, if you know how to listen. And what they’re whispering this cycle out of Verdantia is a tale...
Chrono Chaos: Corporate Cuts Time; Who Files the Damages?
The gears had started grinding in Cogsworth Cogitarium, and not in the usual, precision-timed, symphony-of-industry kind of way. No, this was the sound of a...
Quantum Quagmire: Emotional Data Theft: Just Another Day at the Interdimensional Office.
The twilight in Nocturne Aeturnus usually hums with a thousand whispers, a symphony of crystallized feeling hanging in the air like a cosmic fog. Not this...
Memo Mayhem: Corporate Corp's Palimpsest, The Ultimate Filing Error.
Another sunrise over Prime Material, another corporate blight spreading like a cheap virus. The city, usually a gleaming monument to chrome and electric...
Stapler's Scoop: Emotion-Crystals: The Multiverse's Newest Tax Haven.
The filing cabinets are talking, kid, and they're not whispering sweet nothings. They're rattling with the kind of bureaucratic dread that only a truly...
From TPS Reports to Temporal Anomalies: My Life as a Multiversal Stapler
The fluorescent lights were always a bad omen. Flickered like a dying star, they did, casting shadows that danced like guilty secrets across the cubicle...