Goog had never met a problem he couldn't punch. Sometimes the problem would go away, and sometimes there would be a new problem. But this generally worked for Goog, as he was one of the best at punching.

When Goog was young and his brother stole his favorite shiny rock, Goog punched and brother let go of rock. When a weird bird once bit Goog, Goog punched and bird tasted good roasted over fire for Goog's lunch. When the chief of the orc tribe told Goog that "violence isn't always the answer", and that Goog was "perpetuating harmful orcish stereotypes" with his actions, Goog punched. This did not go over as well as Goog hoped.

Leaving the tribe was not all bad, Goog wandered and eventually found nice cave. Things in the cave were not friendly, but Goog punched, and things stopped moving. Goog found many shiny rocks in the cave, and other pretty things.

Sitting amongst the various treasures was something very strange. It was a sort of series of boxes connected to each other with strings. The whole contraption hummed with a strange energy. Goog stared in wonder at one of the boxes which seemed to contain a moving painting of colorful tubes which were twisting themselves into spiraling geometric patterns. Goog reached out to the box and-

Goog blinked. He was standing in a very small, square space. In front of him on a table sat the odd device, and next to him was a small, scrawny man rambling a bunch of made-up words to Goog- "Every time I open the word processor it just gets as slow as molasses and I can't do a thing with it until I exit out. But I simply must get that sales report to Brenda by tomorrow, you know what she is like." The little man's hands fidgeted rapidly with a loop of thin, stretchy material.

Goog did not know what Brenda was like, but he was confused. And when Goog was confused he got upset, and when he got upset he did what Goog did best- Goog punched.

It was at this precise moment that the man dropped the rubber band he had been toying with, and bent over to pick it up. Thrown off by his target being suddenly absent, Goog swayed forward, his closed fist landing on the computer's power button.

"Oh, how silly of me. Of course I should have tried turning it off and turning it on again."

"Say, Goog..." I approached the new member of our team hesitantly, "I hope I don't come across as rude..."

"No, I don't drink from the skulls of my enemies. They make for impractical cups, what with the eye holes." she said without looking up from her work. I was amazed by how deftly her fingers navigated her comparatively tiny keyboard. Sensing that she hadn't answered my actual question, she stopped and turned to me, her tusked mouth smiling warmly. "I generally don't turn my enemies' body parts into trophies. Looks bad on the resumé. You don't have to walk on eggshells around me."

Those rippling muscles, barely contained by her sharp business-casual attire, told me otherwise. Still, I mustered up the courage to ask: "how did you learn to code so well?"

"How does an orc learn to code so well, you mean." My heart sank as she saw through the question, and I was terribly afriad that I had offended her. To my surprise, however, she continued smiling. "Let me ask you a question in return: when was the last time you vanquished an enemy in single combat?"

"I uh... what?"

"When was the last time you vanquished an enemy in single combat?" she repeated, matter-of-factly, "when was the last time you achieved glorious victory in war? When was the last time you came home from work blood-stained and still riding the high from the thrill of battle?"

"I have never done any of those things..."

"Exactly. Neither have most orcs nowadays. Berserker warriors aren't all that employable in today's society, but orc culture still demands we prove our honour and valor somehow. As children, many of us turn to video games."

I started to see what she was getting at. "And some orcs aren't quite satisfied with human-made video games."

"Exactly!" she laughed. "I'm completely self-taught. I first learned to code by modding Heavenedge. I was actually surprised I got this job without any official credentials. I've heard rumours that it was a clerical error, but I'm not complaining..."

With that, she cracked her knuckles and went back to typing. And just like that, I looked at Goog with different eyes. No longer this otherworldly monster, but a person, a coworker. A coworker that I was hugely impressed by. "You're a big fan of the Ancient Codices-series?" I asked.

"Some parts. Heavenedge is fine, but having gone back and played previous installments, I like The Ancient Codices III: Dawnstorm best."

And she just became the coolest person I knew. "Dawnstorm is my favourite as well! Hey, if you'd like, I would love to swap stories about our games sometime. Are you free on friday?"

"That depends..." she began, before suddenly bellowing "CAN YOU DODGE!?"

I narrowly avoided a ballpoint pen that she flung across our office. It embedded itself point-first an inch deep into a planner on the corkboard on the wall. Exactly on next friday. Goog ignored my hyperventilating and fist pumped. "Bullseye! It's a date!"

Goog was shocked when the email came in. She had been hired for a job she had applied for on a total lark. IT was no place for an orc and she knew it. In fact, out of the magical races, only the Elves and Fae seemed to be able to get 'normal' jobs in the human sector. Orcs, trolls, werewolves, and well, you get the idea, they got the mining jobs or the dangerous jobs where death was a much higher probability. So when Goog saw her application for a nice desk job at Magitek Corp. had been accepted, she almost tossed it out thinking it was a prank.

One phone call later told her it hadn't been. Goog was in fact the newest employee at Magitek Corp. working in their IT sector. The email confirmed she was to report to HR on Monday. Outside of her dark olive skin and fairly sharp teeth, Goog could have almost passed for human had she not been nearly seven feet and six inches tall. Her height had always been an issue, what with doorframes not really being designed for anyone over six and a half feet. Still she was going to put in some effort to try to look as good as she could.

She arrived at her new job promptly. She had dressed to flatter her appearance, but the clothing was also for function as it would allow her to move easily. She did her best to smile nicely as she softly shook hands with the head of HR who greeted her in the atrium.

"Good morning! Come to my office so we can get a few things squared away. Nothing major."

Goog nodded and smiled. Paperwork on the first day wasn't completely out of the ordinary and she followed swiftly. The office as nice, though the chair was a bit small. Goog made a note to make sure she had one for her height.

"So, first off, welcome. I bet you're wondering why we hired you."

Goog smiled at the young Elf. The androgyny of their appearance made Goog unsure which pronouns to use. "Why yes I am. Don't normally see Orcs getting hired in job like this."

"So. Funny story. I was in our hiring software and I was working on hiring candidates and well, no easy way to say it, but a typo put your name into the system and no one caught it before the hiring got filed."

Goog panicked a moment. "Does that mean I don't have a job here?"

"On the contrary. Your CV was flawless for the job. Let's get the details worked out Miss Goog."

While it may have been over two years since the seventeen year old intern at Mannered Cat Inc used his gaming skills to save the other world he was summoned to and open a permanent portal back home, one still doesn't expect a "Mr. Green, G." to have green skin. The sapient races immigrating in from that other world is still confusing. It was tough enough to hide the look of shock at the sight of his scarred face, but I had to save face to not appear racist. For all we know, Mr. Green really is the most qualified candidate, and at the very least his stench has been less offensive than some of the other coworkers I've had the pleasure to deal with.

I've been terribly busy due to the short staffedness—I'll take whatever help I can get.

Pleasantries and introductions were played out. The usual, "Master Green was me father, call me Goog" and explaining what the job is. Why someone so used to dealing with large beasts and prolific magic would want a career in something so mundane was beyond me, although when I candidly asked later it was revealed that Goog took this path because he was under the impression it was for honorable men. Given the dozens of "Urgent!" in my email queue, I decided to offload Goog into his first task which was to help with Mark in Sales. I had a little concern about a misunderstanding when he stormed off saying "I will find my mark" but he came back a few minutes later saying "I fix it."

I asked what did Goog do, and he told me "I turn off and on again." Classic. He may not have the best grasp over human language but at the very least he knows the fundamentals. I commended for him as such. I had so much to deal with, I just let him the ringing phone to our department and deal with the next issue while I updated the server.

...

I heard a bonk sound followed by clatter in the distance. Such a loud sound could only have been produced by the tree trunk thick arms of Goog, who was saying some Orcish words carried over by his stentorian voice. I was worrying that my risk in character judgment might have back fired and I was getting up to investigate were it not for the elated "It works! Thank you, Goog." I heard shortly after.

When he came back I asked what happened, and Goog said "Mefinks problem's fix like at home, human word 'z Percussive Maintenance. P'bit'kak Ingrid-Santiago not know, but Goog does. 'Z like squigglies."

And so it kept going. I was worried Goog might not get the more complicated problems on call, but he would type with his sausage thick fingers while on call and resolve the issue. We've received nothing but thanks and commendations from our feedback.

I asked how did he learn so much about computers in the last couple years of which the portal has been opened. "Goog'el is like me boss at home. When Goog not know, Goog ask. Goog'el tell Goog what to do, and Goog'el don't hit me on head like big Green."

Goog just googles everything like anyone at I.T. I don't know why it felt like such a plot twist. Weeks go by, not a single complaint about the hunched hulk. While his reasonings and explanations may be off beat in the logs, he got the job done. For example:

Another computer frozen, "Goog reset."

New scanner in the department needs installing, "P'bit'kak. Mark know not how to deal with grey wizard like an Orc of the Scorpion Sting tribe."

We're setting up the router. "Sorting wires z no harder than sorting bitey snakes at home."

There was one time he mentioned saving things to a backup drive is like making a soul copy on a rune in Grobdingog, but I definitely felt like I was missing some context for that.

One day, when code was compiling, I asked Goog "P'bit'Kak, what does it mean? It's the one Orcish word I keep hearing you repeat."

Goog responded "Problem Between Chair And Computer."

A lot of my coworkers assume that I would be worse at my job than my human counterparts. Apparently, a Blacktusk can't do this sort of 'advanced thinking.' No, even after the end of the Orcish-Loraenian war in '89, I still feel their eyes on me like venom in my veins. I still hear their whispered words in hushed elvish, assuming I don't know their tongue. I still notice them speak in softer, simpler words as if soothing a great, toothed beast in fear it would lash out and not understand.

No one has complained though. Not even I.

"Evanduiael, how was your weekend?" Rasper Gildsprocket glanced over their shoulder at the elf, who twitched his ear dismissively at the gnome. Their high voice had a tendency to grate on those of us with more sensitive hearing. My own ears pinned back a moment before I reminded myself of 'polite society'. The Loraenian immigration society has taught me plenty about polite ears when I moved here, but sometimes instinct still got the better. Sometimes if was easier to give in to that comfort of being able to show my emotions openly.

"Im fine, Gildsprocket." Evanduiael spoke curtly, striding confidently into his office without sparing either of us a look. I snorted, grinding my teeth against my tusks.

"Rude." I growled, focusing on filling up my work water bottle fully at the cooler. Rasper sputtered a bit, looking up at me.

"We-well, you know how elves are." They let out a humorless laugh, glancing around as if wondering if anyone else was coming to keep them company. Were they scared of me? "And I mean, they're quirky, but coming to Loraen gives a lot of us so much opportunity. We should be grateful. Especially orcs like you."

I hated it when they said things like that. Made it seem like I survived off their charity. It wasn't charity.

"Know what I mean, Gog?"

"Goog." I corrected with a close lipped smile.

"Such a silly name." They chuckled, turning to leave. "You should go by something else now that you're in Loraen."

I snorted through my nose. I did my work. And I did it well. And I never complained about my coworkers either. Because even HR laughed when they read my name.

Out of interest, one day you go and visit Goog in his office. He is sitting at his desk in a light blue and freshly pressed and starcheched button down. An absolutely tiny pair of glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose and he is carefully pondering some UML diagrams for a new feature to be implemented sometime in the next quarter.

You see he has an IDE open on a monitor with what looks like gibberish sprawled across the screen, though the Syntax seems correct enough from what you understand.

He notices you standing there a little longer than most people so in a moment of panic, you attempt to lean on the wall of his cubicle, but you accidentally knock over a small framed photo of him with a very young girl on his shoulders. She is holding an ice cream cone which is dripping onto his head, but he doesn't seem to notice. You carefully right the photo, and look back to see a look of confusion on his face, "Can I.... help you with something?" He asks with a concerned tone.

"Oh, uh... no, sorry. I was just curious as to how you were settling in?" You ask, trying to deflect the tension into some small talk.

"Quite well, actually. Everyone has been very accommodating." He says, grinning with a much more toothy smile than you are accustomed to.

"Very good, well, I hope you have a good day" you say, excusing yourself from the awkward situation.

Later on, you log into your terminal, and take a look at some of the code he has written, it is all just a mash of characters, nothing makes sense, but when you run the code, it does exactly what it is supposed to. You are baffled, but like everything in programming, if it works don't fuck it up right?

You make a note to ask him for some details later, but for now, that isn't necessary.... you think...

We always have problems with the printer, new guy helped us fix it, he said "Oi, why is de paper empty?!" He punched a hole on the side of the machine, thing works better than ever before.

Today boss wanted something done about the new landing page we've been working on, new guy told our team: "Oi, where is de git button?! smole people want dem fing!" He suggested a button with the word "BUY" on it, a huge red button on the center of the website and our online orders have gone up by 40%.

New guy stole my sandwich from the office fridge today, I don't really want to argue about it, I'm not sure he knows that the food in there belongs to everyone in the office, he ate everything, even Steve's birthday cake... Poor Steve.

Boss has been eyeing my cubicle recently I think I might get the promotion my coworkers have been talking about, with the new guy in my team we've been having zero problems with the new servers, new guy placed them inside the office fridge now that it's empty and they haven't had any issues, we haven't had to call the maintenance guys, servers are purring like kittens.

I may have underestimated the new guy... I know he's an orc (literally) but he has made some incredible changes in our work environment it only makes sense he takes on this project from now on, boss wasn't happy about how I used to handle things, one thing led to another and I'm now emptying my cubicle, hopefully I'll get a job soon.

I hate you "Goog" but damn... do you make things work!

It had been going on three months now. Three months! Yet, there he was, quietly sitting in his cubicle, tapping away at his keyboard, making soft grunts every so often. People passed him as they made their way to their own cubicles, casting a quick side eye toward him, but nothing more. What could they say? Nothing, that's what. As odd as it was, Goog was a fine employee. He was prompt in answering calls and responding to email's. Any servicing that he had to get done was quick, never causing any delays in work. That included in-house and client visits. No one had a bad thing to say about him! Well, aside from the fact that he took up nearly the entire elevator - but he was a orc! A six-foot-nine-inch, muscular one. But that would just be nitpicking at this point. He was respectful toward all, was usually early for work, and when he wasn't early, he was literally exactly right on time, and always dressed professionally. It didn't matter how many times they saw it, no one in the department would ever get used to seeing an orc wearing a dress shirt with a tie, and black slacks. Of course, no shoes, but where would one even find shoes for those feet? A few people even entertained the idea that his feet might even be bigger than Shaq's feet!

The first few days were stressful, both for the company and Goog. The company because they hadn't actually intended to hire him, especially when he showed for his interview and they discovered that he was an orc. They wanted to let him go, fearing that an orc would do more harm than good. Actually, no, he would do nothing but harm. So with security basically tailing him each day, on high alert, they waited for his first - and hopefully last - infraction. And they waited. And they waited. By day 73, security had stopped monitoring him, and management had to begrudgingly admit that he was good at his job. Surprisingly.

Goog was stressed, essentially for the same thing. He never actually expected to be hired. On a whim, he decided to apply for the position, and upon showing up for his interview, he could see the dismissal within the interviewers eyes as soon as he walked into the office. Yet, there he was, a company badge clipped to his shirt pocket now. Although surprised, he decided to put forth some effort and show that he was capable. He never noticed that security had been near him all that time.

"This can't be right..."

"I had that same reaction, at first. Therefore, to make sure I wasn't mistaken, I checked three more times, as well as followed up with both clients and other departments. They all said the same thing - he was incredibly friendly, considerate, and concise. Their words, not mine. Not to mention, he was incredibly knowledgeable and was able to solve all issues presented within an acceptable time-frame."

"And his requested support?"

"None."

"Sonofa- you're telling me that our mistake has actually brought us a golden apple?" The CEO asked his hiring manager, looking over the reports of all Goog's calls and IT-related incidents. The manager simply smiled as he turned and headed out of the office.

"Today is his ninety-first day with us. After lunch, I'll be presenting him with a letter offering him a permanent position as our newest member."

As the hiring closed the door behind him, the CEO yelled, "Make sure to increase his pay!"

[Poem]

Brain

Brawn

An absolute

abrasive

axiom

​

Yet

Goog's (the orc)

fingers

callous from years of

carrying

burden

elegantly

wrote

a new script

​

While

Human Resources

anxiously attempts

to apprehend

the antidote

to apathetic

ambition

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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