Chapter 12: Leonard's Labyrinthine Lunch
Leonard was a good man. A kind man. A man who, in his own way, was a hero. He was the only man who could stand to live with Sheldon Cooper for a decade and not lose his mind. He was the one who was always there to pick up the pieces, to mediate, to be the voice of reason. He was the one who, in a world of chaos, was a small, quiet island of sanity. And that, in my own way, made him a perfect target. Because a small, quiet island of sanity, in a world of chaos, is just a target waiting to be hit.
Paige and I were sitting in my office, a look of profound satisfaction on our faces. The "Phantom Equation" prank had been a masterpiece. Sheldon was a mess, and we were the ones who had made him that way. It was a beautiful, chaotic, and incredibly fun thing. But as all great victories come to an end, we had a new target. A new victim. A new… friend.
"Leonard's the one," I said, a wide, triumphant grin on my face. "He's the one who's always there for Sheldon. He's the one who's always there to pick up the pieces. He's the one who's always there to be the voice of reason. We're going to break him. We're going to break his sanity. We're going to break his spirit."
Paige, a look of genuine concern on her face, looked at me. "Are you sure? He's a good guy. He's a friend. Are we really going to do this to him? He's a sweet, kind, and incredibly good-looking man who deserves a break."
"He's a good guy," I said, a small smile on my face. "He's a friend. But he's also a scientist. He's a man of logic. And we're going to use that against him. We're going to use the System to alter the university's digital signage. We're going to send him on a wild goose chase. A journey into a world of pure, unadulterated chaos."
I opened the System's interface, the holographic screen shimmering with a blue light in front of me. I clicked on the "Reality Alteration" function and, with a few simple mental commands, I was in. I was in the university's digital signage. I was in the campus's digital brain. I was in Leonard's lunch.
I started to work, a small, triumphant grin on my face. I altered the signs, making every sign point to a different, ridiculous location. I made a sign in the hallway that said, "Cafeteria: Turn right for the Quantum Snack Zone." I made a sign in the lobby that said, "Cafeteria: Turn left for the Intergalactic Taco Stand." I made a sign in the lab that said, "Cafeteria: Turn right for the Celestial Soup Kitchen."
Paige, who was watching over my shoulder, let out a small, joyful gasp. "You're a genius," she said, her voice a low, reverent whisper. "That's… that's beautiful. That's a work of art. That's a prank that a god would create."
"I know," I said with a triumphant grin. "And he's going to spend hours trying to find his lunch. He's going to spend hours trying to find a way out of the labyrinth. He's going to spend hours trying to find a way to get to the cafeteria. It's going to be glorious."
The next few hours were a work of art. A beautiful, chaotic mess. Leonard, a look of profound confusion on his face, was walking through the campus, a look of utter bewilderment on his face. He was a man on a mission. He was a man on the verge of a breakthrough. Or so he thought.
"A Quantum Snack Zone?" he muttered to himself, a look of profound indignation on his face. "What in the world is a Quantum Snack Zone? Is it a place where you can get a sandwich that is both a sandwich and a soup? Is it a place where you can get a hot dog that is both a hot dog and a taco? Is it a place where you can get a… a carrot that is both a carrot and a pizza?"
He followed the signs, a look of profound resignation on his face. He ended up in a janitor's closet. He ended up in a broom cupboard. He ended up in a room full of forgotten scientific instruments. He was a man who had lost his mind. And it was a beautiful, beautiful thing to watch.
He eventually found his way to the cafeteria, a look of utter defeat on his face. He was a man who had been through a lot. He had been through a lot of pranks. But this was a new level of pranks. This was a new level of chaos. This was a new level of funny.
He looked at his lunch, a look of utter defeat on his face. He had a bag of food. He had a bag of food that was filled with a single, solitary carrot. He looked at the carrot, then at me and Paige, a look of profound resignation on his face. He knew what was going on. He knew who was responsible. And he knew that he was powerless to stop it.
He, in a moment of pure, unadulterated sadness, let out a small, pained sigh and retreated back to his lab, a defeated man. He was a man who had been through a lot. He had been through a lot of pranks. But this was a new level of pranks. This was a new level of chaos. This was a new level of funny.
I looked at Paige, a wide, triumphant grin on my face. "I think we just won," I said. "I think we just won the game."
"I think we just won the game," she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "And we didn't even have to lift a single, tiny, insignificant finger."