all my money

"Seriously? I was about to get to the best part..." breathed out Meyline, "Fine, it's literally what you said..." before once again glancing at her gadget.

"There's no need to complicate things..." Molly's head shook, "Though... what I could say on the matter is, well, very contradictory to what I said earlier..."

"Mmkay..." pressing the side of the screen, "Go on." green-hair listened in.

"There are so many ways you can twist the previous broadcast aside from the death as mentioned earlier threat idea," he explained, scrolling down on his phone— replaying the same EAS broadcast.

"The very notion that Sir Pert was visibly shocked and full of fear at the moment, showed not the intent to carry out pointless bloodshed nor even the slightest hint of him wanting to battle the other countries, but simply due to the unknowns occurring..." finally stopping at the advertisement, upon which he lowered the volume of his phone down.

"Even the mentioned countries here have nothing to do with America for the past 5 years. Unless you're going to include celebrities performing concerts or world tours. It remains highly unlikely..." looking at her, "Then again, it could very well be within the realm of possibilities— that is... if you're full of paranoia..."

Some silence would follow suit, but many of the coworkers would remain sleeping and resting, a plethora waking up from their conversation yet having no intention of butting in; normal common sense stuff.

"Someone must've orchestrated this whole spiel- whether accidental or not," he finishes, standing up again and facing the other way.

Green hair would pause and digest what she just heard, scratching part of her cheek from either boredom or the lack of anything productive to do other than make smack about things on social media.

The podcast was a thing still popular, yet being called a "Talking Head" wasn't gonna make her yap on and on about David vs. TIna on who was the worst one out there amongst the band members.

Having the edges of the table be used to stand up, she would steadily hop to safe spaces where no person lying in wait for her to stomp on over would be, ambling the tiled path towards the hallway at the east side where Molly would be – bottle at hand – filling up the water from the nearby dispenser.

His eyes trained on the blue faucet as he watches the bottle slowly have purpose and weight behind his meaningful grip and letting the water flow through and not spill out onto the soft carpet guarding and catching the droplets should one clumsy person where accidentally slip their hand on places not befitting for H20 to arrive systematically onto whatever vassal of consumption they may possess.

Halfway, done only meagerly halfway for the red faucet to be pushed, and let the machine's internal heating apparatuses then rapidly heat the incoming water, its steam making the cool water be neutralized and creating neutral or "lukewarm" water.

Upon the nearest liter measuring the water filled through a line drawn on it, he would pick up a cylindrical object attached to the side of the bottle perpendicular to the hole and stop tugging on the sensors, making the flow cease and placing the top. Twisty-turny and the cap closes the bottle.

"But, say that your previous rationale was true and that it wasn't America who was behind this ploy, then who would it be? And why exactly?" asked Meyline, raising an eyebrow and having her be stopped by the nearby vending machine.

Doing a downward swiping motion with her fingers and having a can be propped carefully at the compartment unfolding from the side, a box followed by an unboxing- a canister labeled "Puree CopperTea". 

"Either based on curiosity or to simply satisfy their cravings for destruction- both being equally as nonsensical and purely childish in terms of modern-day ideologies." bottle-boy replied, sipping the fresh new water he stared patiently to be filled up.

"Though that still wouldn't make sense as the damage dealt by anyone who does have this theoretical personality is random and all over the place. From a large desert, then a mountain, then a series of countries like one giant line...." she replied.

"And yet you still believe that America was the one who did all of that in a matter of minutes during the very broadcast?" sip "Even with the current technology we have right now, I doubt the military could've pulled something like this..." he rebuts, a counterpoint enough to make him move out of the way for him take a full minute drink.

"So the answer is just another unknown?" tapping part of the can makes the cap slightly transparent, "I guess that anonymity is what's driving these guys more and more to lobotomy...." drinking through the hole and having it be tasted- strong, bitter, and a dash of some sweet glucose.

"What you should worry about isn't that, okay? Worry about how the police will get to us..." closing the cap once again, "I'll go clean the office. Stuff was thrashed there." walking away.

"Right." tapping her phone away, the ringing would bear nothing to arrive. Just standing on the side of the vending machine, she would scroll up and down as if buying time or appearing to be busy.

"Anything there, Ms. Jyuniper?" asked one of the workers approaching from the confines of their sleeping den, having their gaze on the phone with no notifications at all.

"There should be, but... none so far." shrugged celery head and went over to the official website, dialing the official hotline for Nevada's Disaster and Damage Control.

Though that would've been the normal response in the first place, maybe calling the police department first should be common sense for such occasions where things unexplained are best solved by guns and arresting- delusional, the first mistakes don't count.

Second would be considered "dumb" and the third...? They don't count.

Ring~! Ring~!

According to her at least.