ok so what if you worked in an old office building that had cool gargoyles on the outside. that’s sick, right? you don’t get why no one else thinks the gargoyles are awesome. you didn’t even watch that old 90′s gargoyle cartoon because you were too little when it was airing, but you’re vaguely familiar with the plot. you always did like the thought of statues and pictures and paintings having secret lives where no one could see.
in the summer, when it turns out the windows open, you leave a cup of coffee out on the ledge for the gargoyle that’s nearest the breakroom. it’s funny. it’s just a cute joke. your coworkers laugh, but not really at you. it’s harmlessly silly, and frankly working in an office kind of sucks. no one minds something extra to smile about.
the next day you go to get the mug back. the coffee’s gone, but the cup’s half full of rainwater and cigarette butts. haha, cute joke, someone else must be in on it. you wash the cup and put it back out fresh for the gargoyle. everyone’s calling him greg now. everyone smiles over greg’s morning coffee. greg needs his fix! greg is a valued employee. keep up the good work, greg. you set a mug of coffee out for greg every morning, now.
the stuff in the coffee mug that’s left behind keeps changing, though. it’s different every morning: always rainwater, but also cigarette butts, coffee grounds, a handful of gravel, some bottlecaps, gross old pennies. receipt papers, pigeon feathers, half a shoe.
then one morning it’s a whole, wrapped snickers bar. still in half a cup of dirty rainwater, but the plastic’s fine, the candy inside should be good.
‘huh. thanks, greg,’ you say, and after you get greg his coffee, you open the candy bar and have it right there, sitting on the windowsill.
‘so that’s what you guys eat,’ the gargoyle says, satisfied.
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