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“Good morning Karen, how are you doing? Good, I hope. You probably know what you’re doing here so I went take much of your time.”
“But I don’t know what’s going on, why’d you call me down this morning?”
“Well, that’s surprising, but anyway. A few days ago we learned that our manager, Cynthia, was transformed into some clothing, a sock to be precise. We also heard that someone in our office took her for themself and has been wearing her since then. So, we’ve been going through the office one by one trying to find her. She important here, after all.”
“Interesting, what do you need me to do to help.”
“Right now just take off your shoes and show us the bottom of your feet, your left first. When you transform into a sock your face appears on the bottom or sole of your new form.”
“Is her face there?” asked Karen, lifting up her foot.
“Sadly no, lift your other foot please.”
“How about here.”
“No. Well, at least we know you don’t have her.”
“Can I go now?”
“Yes, just tell Cybill to come in next.”
Sitting there for a moment Karen thought to herself ‘They must be on something. Whoever heard of someone transforming into a sock?’
“I hope you find her soon.” she sighed while scrunching her toes on her right foot. Karen slipped back on her sneakers.
Just like that, her one hope was taken from her. If only they knew that humans looked exactly like clothing when transformed. She wasn’t sure exactly how she got here but one moment she was the manager, the next she was a sock of one of her employees. Not even a good employee, she was now owned by that bitch Karen. Cynthia never liked her and Karen certainly didn’t either, she was always late and never really did her job. Now she had another grievance with her, having to taste and suck up all her foot sweat. Luckily it seemed that Karen was unaware of her boss, otherwise, her new life underfoot would be worse. It was still bad though. How could one enjoy constantly tasting foot sweat and foot funk over every inch of their body? She certainly couldn’t. Cynthia felt Karen scrunch her toes on her, a feeling she hadn’t gotten used to yet. She watched as her former employee grabbed her sneaker and jammed her in it. As Karen left the interview room she wondered who owned Cynthia. Hopefully, they were someone she was friends with, she had to get her hands on her or rather her foot in her.