The only thing anyone does at this company, the only reason anyone shows up and gets paid to be here, is to watch me eat strawberries. I lift each strawberry, one at a time, and bite into it, sometimes ingesting the entirety of the item, though usually leaving the leafy crown. Dozens of people stand around this table, cameras and notebooks drawn, for a day-long analysis of how I eat my strawnerries, a banana, and sometimes other fruits. I was hired as an entry level strawberry consumer, and while I maintain that role I have also expanded into other seemingly mundane acts that are observed and scrutinized. It’s not strictly academic, mind you. THere is a genuine thrill and thirst for seeing me do these things. I have witnessed vigorous masturbation and emotional exaltations in response to my actions. In addition to the aformentioned I will also write, with pen on paper, the English alphabet. I will do this 26 times, handing the results to analysts and hisyorians. I will then open a drawer, remove from it a box if crackers, and I will remove crackers from the box one at a time, carefully studying them to be sure they are clean and edible. As dozens of gawkers, analysts, and forensic researchers watch I eat the crackers, crunching them in my teeth and swallowing them down my throat. Flashbulbs flash, awe is struck, I hear whispers and shouts that mine is the finest cracker-eating technique in this company’s history, in the history of crackers.