Debbie muttered under her breath as she picked up the new vacuum cleaner. Her office had been making assorted cuts to "non-essential" positions, and evidently the janitorial staff was the latest casualty. Rather than pay for folks to clean up when everyone went home, the last one out was supposed to "tidy up." The primary effect had been that people started leaving 10 minutes early to avoid being the last one out. That's certainly what Debbie had been doing. But a late call delayed her and now she was stuck trying to figure out how to clean up after her coworkers.

She spent twenty minutes trying to figure out how to work a device that shouldn't have had anything but an on-off button. The one button on the whole device was marked "safety" and she'd clicked it enough times she couldn't even remember what state it was in when she started. Finally gave up and looked up the online manual.

"The Encapsul-8," she grumbled, reading the marketing wank out loud. "This revolutionary hand-held vacuum steamlines the home sanitation process. With no canister to empty or bag to fill, the Encapsul-8 compacts dust and debris into a manageable size and ejects the waste into clean, easy to handle nuggets to be discarded in standard waste recepticle, wrapped in our special no-rip coating. ... Yeah, yeah, how do I use it... ah, here we go. ... In order to begin enjoying the hassle free Encapsul-8 experience, Simply place the nozzle in range of the mess to be cleaned. The device will auto-activate and auto-deactivate."

She scratched her head.

"Is it really that easy?"

She looked to the assorted snack crumbs littering her friend's desk. A quick press of the nozzle to the desk beside the dust caused the machine to kick on. It handily slurped up the crumbs, and the wrappers along with them.

"Well, at least it works well," she muttered.

She paced the floor, vacuuming up all of the visbile messes. Every few minutes the vacuume would buzz, rattle, and poot out a poolball sized collection of debris. It was tightly packed, and left glossy and smooth by the coating. She picked each one up and tossed it in the trash. She hated ot admit it, but the whole system was pretty convenient. By the time she was nearly finished, she was actually starting to enjoy it.

Any good humor she'd built up along the way vanished as soon as she got to the boss's desk. He'd left the room a veritable pig-sty. There must have been some executive party she'd not been invited to, because it was a disaster. Vacuuming up all of the disposable plates and flatware--things she was surpized fit in the nozzle, the thing had pooped out three little balls for her to toss away. She was almost done when the vacuum got a little overzealous and vacuumed up a cup that wasn't quite empty. Its sudden entry spritzed the contents all over her.

"Darn it! This was a new shirt!" she growled.

A few half-hearted wipes failed to do much more than smear around the fruit punch that was rapidly soaking in. With no better options (there hadn't been any napkins left) she pressed the nozzle to her shirt. Maybe the stuff could suck up the worst of it and keep it from being stained. The edge of her shirt fluttered, then pinched into the end of the nozzle. The little motor strained for a moment, and it sure looked like the fluid was being pulled away. Then the motor flared and *FWOOP*, the shirt's buttons gave way and it zipped down the nozzle. Physics and logistics didn't seem to matter. Like a magician yanking a table cloth from a table while leaving placesettings intact, one moment she was wearing her shirt, the next she was in her bra and the last bits of it were flapping away. Her comparitively sluggish reflexes pulled the vacuum away half-second too late. In yanking at the device, all she really managed to do was catch the waist of her pants in the nozzle. Another brief pause and--

*FWOOP*

She watched in awe and confusion as her pants yanked free to vanish into the nozzle. This time she was at least something approaching prepared for the impossible occurrance. She snatched at the flapping cuffs of her pants, ready to pull them free.

*FFFFWWWWWWEEEEEEE-POP*

Her eyes widened. The struggle was brief, and when the dust had cleared, rather than the device relinquishing her pants, it had claimed her hand. Everything past her wrist was clenched in a smooth, not quite painful grip. It was mind-boggling to look at. The nozzel wasn't much more than the size of her thumb, but her whole hand was now packed into it. The motor continued to flare, and the aching tightness started to slide up her arm. She tugged and yanked at the device, but it was no use.

"Wait! The safety!" she said. "I must have left it off!"

She reached with her thumb, but in their infinte wisdom, the manufacturers had placed the button well out of reach of the handle, probably so you wouldn't accidentally shut off the safety while it was in use.

As the vacuum squeakily consumed her arm, she struggled with what to do. It was taking all of her effort to keep it from creeping any further than this. Maybe if she could hold it off for a little while longer she could--

The thing rattled for a second, then pooted out a fresh ball. This one was the tighly packed remnants of her clothes, hammering home the reality that she was in her bra and panties in the boss's office.

Despiration set in. She had to turn it off. She would release the handle, making sure to be ready to quickly tap the safety button while the machine was hanging from her arm. One, two, three...

*SQU-POP*

The very instant her fingers released the handle, the vacuum roared with renewed vigor. It must have happened in the blink of an eye, but it didn't feel that way for her. Every tight, squeaky moment of it went by as if in slow motion for her. She felt the thing slid up her arm, mashing it tightly down. She felt it tug at her neck, her chest, and her side all at once. She watched as her bosom popped inside, then yelped as her head followed it. She felt the smooth plastic all around her, felt it gobble up her midriff and struggle ever so slightly to start squeezing her hips inside. With each inch of her body sucked up, the pressure around her felt tighter. She felt like she was being wadded up in someone's hand, rolled and mashed and kneaded. She felt little polishing discs help the process along, smoothing down any errant bit of her body. Her feet finally twitched and slurped in behind her. Then came the spritz of the warm, thick coating. The polishing discs sped up, massaging the coating over every inch o her body. Then, the familiar grumble and

*POIT*

Out she rolled. She blinked her eyes, which took all of the effort she could muster, then looked around. She was still rocking back and forth. When she struggled, she could barely cause the the sphere her body had become to wobble and ripple. It was no use. As the vacuum finally shut down, she resigned that she would be spending the night on the floor of her boss's office, little more than a fist-sized wad of humanity. WIth any luck there was a reversal section in the manual. The last thing she wanted was to have to be popped into the mail to be restored at the home office. Or worse, reduced to a paperweight on her boss's desk...