Guys, Accounting Says We Are Having Too Many Retreats

Hi, everyone! I’m sorry for posting this so publicly, but I know you’re all very busy people who are rarely even in the same country at the same time and that Katie and Lydia actually cancel each other out if they’re in the same room. Also, none of you will give me your real email addresses. What I’m saying is I appreciate your understanding in this matter. As for the business at hand, I’ll get right to it: Accounting says we are having too many retreats.

I know what you’re thinking: Those retreats are necessary team-building expenses required for connecting our chakras so we can function properly as a spiritual unit, as well as providing us with bond-strengthening memories formed over an impressively large bar tab at an ocean side resort. I hear you, and I agree. We’ll always have that time Elijah broke into such a sky-high plane of consciousness, with a little help from ayahuasca, that he literally became the Pagemaster. You can’t put a price tag on such precious memories, and I assure you, we have no plans to axe the retreat budget altogether. But maybe we don’t need several dozen per week?

Like, it says here that just in the last fiscal quarter, we’ve had 432 retreats. Aside from being clearly too many, that doesn’t seem physically possible. When did we even have these retreats? Mathematically speaking, every retreat would have had to have taken place during another retreat, which took place during yet another retreat. That’s assuming we spent no time in the office, and unless I dreamed up our entire website, we clearly have.

Does anybody remember all of these retreats? Or any of these retreats? I can think of six, seven tops. There was the Himalayan pink salt lodge in Baja, the authentic if somewhat unwelcoming pow-wow, the Puerto Rican volun-tour where we educated residents on generating electricity through the power of yoga … and after that, I’m drawing a blank. That leaves 429 retreats to account for. I have an invoice here from a cabin in the Maldives for $65,000. I don’t even have a passport. What’s going on?

Does this have anything to do with that trail of blood Hana found? Guys, it’s called the forbidden room for a reason. Hana, I’m not blaming you. I understand you had a spiritual and arguably legal responsibility to find out where that trail of blood was coming from. What I wanna know is whose blood that was, who put it there, and whether it has anything to do with how we’ve been able to have literally hundreds of retreats in just a few short months.

I just— listen, guys, I try to be a fair boss, but you’re clearly taking advantage of me here, and I’m not going to stand for it. Because I think I know exactly what’s going on. You’ve been sacrificing Craig again, haven’t you? Haven’t you?! Guys, we agreed we would do that one time to bring Amanda back to life after that blood magic incident, and I’ve looked the other way the other 12 times that we explicitly did not agree. But the guy’s on at least his 13th life, and you can’t just keep sacrificing him to bend the fabric of space-time to your will so that you’re always both relaxing on the beach in Tahiti and reviewing the latest spa facials. Good interns who don’t talk to the authorities are hard to find. I’m putting my foot down on this.

Alright, so, that’s really all I had to say. Let’s just try to keep an eye on that, shall we? We’ll have another retreat soon, I promise, but from now on, we’re sticking to this dimension. Who knows what calamities you’ve already wrought? I wouldn’t be surprised if your meddling has turned Home Alone into an entire franchise in the past, I honestly wouldn’t.

But other than that, you’re doing great. Really. I’m so proud of all of you, and I thank the blood gods every day that they’ve blessed us with such good fortune. Just because I have to be the bad guy sometimes doesn’t mean I don’t love and honor you and the great work you’re doing here.

Namaste.