Annie CLI: Feedback

(Ray as College Junior)

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"Ahem."

Ray turned at the sound of his sylph's cough. Annie stood on the corner of his desk. She was dressed in clothes he'd never seen before, which probably meant that Susan had smuggled them in. Or maybe Mom or Dad had hidden something inside the cage during the Thanksgiving break?

She looked like a business professional. A respectable black skirt; a white shirt, collared and with buttons; sensible shoes and even a pair of glasses. Her long black hair was in a tight bun and she was looking down at a clipboard.

Ray would bet a large amount of chocolate that there was no glass in the glasses, but they did make her look quite competent. He turned around and faced her fully. "Yes?"

"Sorry I'm late," Annie said. She waved behind her at the cage. "The whole office is backed up, what with the move and the election and everything."

"Of course," he said generously. "These things happen."

"Thanks," she smiled. "So, anyway, we're finally getting around to your eval."

"My eval?"

"Your performance evaluation," she said slowly. "This is your annual review so you can get feedback on the areas where you need to concentrate your efforts."

"Ah. Like Calvin and Hobbes."

"No," she said, glaring at him over the top of her glass frames. It was quite a serious glare. "No, Calvin is always going over his father's polling results. His popularity with the all-important 5 to 7 year olds demographic."

"Oh," Ray nodded. "My mistake."

"Yes, well, we're here to look over your performance. That's more critical than your popularity."

"Even my popularity with beautiful little sylph women who I shower with love and chocolate?" he asked.

Annie scratched a note. "Attempts at flattery may have a negative impact on your score for professionalism, sir." "Whoops," he deadpanned.

"Yes, well, since your period of observation ended last month, such behavior will only impact next year's evaluation."

"Whew," he deadpanned.

"Indeed, she said ominously," Annie replied. She looked around the desk. Ray picked up a programming textbook and placed it where she could sit for the session. She flashed a lot of leg sitting down and adjusting her skirt, but Ray was too canny to try to glimpse her thighs or panties. That would just give her another excuse to glare.

So he scooted his chair towards her and assumed a respectful posture. She gave a minute nod.

"So, for the marking period, you have been observed for adaptability, communication, cooperation with peers, performance, planning, professionalism, support for the department mission, and finally support for the unit mission."

"Um, what IS the unit mission?" Ray asked.

Annie did not look up from her clipboard. "Taking good care of Annie," she said icily, marking something on the form. "You should know this, Mr. Foster."

"I know that's one of my duties," he apologized. "I just wasn't sure the whole department was-"

"UNIT!" Annie corrected him. "The department's mission is to get Ray through college and acquire the skills needed to get a job that will allow the Annie unit to support the Annie in the style to which she wants to become accustomed."

"My mistake," he said.

"Well," she said with a little sniff. "Your grades are good, and your skills are at or above average." The door to the room opened and Thomas escorted Susan inside. The Fosters both waved a hello then turned back to each other.

Annie went on. "And according to Guidance, your job prospects are well within required parameters."

"So that's good, right?" he asked.

"It's acceptable, Mr. Foster," Annie said.

"Oh, goodie!" Susan squeaked, pulling up a chair. "How much did we miss?"

"Miss of what?" Thomas asked.

"My performance review," Ray said. He smiled at Susan, having confirmed her guilt with respect to the outfit. "Just started."

"NOW," Annie raised her voice to regain control of the room, "there were several negative notes on your cooperation with peers."

"Nuh-uh," Thomas grunted.

"What? No way!" Susan protested.

"You mean Bebe," Ray said, rubbing his chin. He looked over at the other two. "THIS eval covers the previous calender year's observation period."

"Oh. Bebe," Susan said.

Thomas said. "Her."

"More of an 'It,' really," Susan opined. She turned at the scratching sounds as Annie made a note. "What's that?"

"Probably an upcheck for my cooperation with peers for next year," Ray said. He lowered and slowed his voice. "Lurch pick good peers be friend with."

"Exactly," Annie said with a smile. "Of course, referring to yourself in third person does affect your communication rating," she added with a wider smile.

"Says the woman who referred to herself as the Annie Unit," Ray replied.

"NO!" she shouted. "I am THE ANNIE!" She stood and stomped her foot on the desk. "YOU comprise the ANNIE UNIT! As in the Annie SUPPORT unit! No wonder you earned the communication ratings of a beehive in a wood chipper! You never LISTEN to me!"

Thomas and Susan froze. They were not sure if this was part of the performance or if the joking had been ended by a complete and sincere meltdown. They glanced at Ray, planning to follow his lead.

"I hear what you're saying," he said slowly. "I don't pay you enough attention or get you the imported chocolates often enough." He opened the desk drawer, the one right beneath the desk top, where she couldn't get any leverage to open it herself.

One square of Cadbury chocolate remained from the last bar he'd purchased. He removed the wrapper and placed the chocolate gently on the book she'd been sitting on.

"Mr. Foster, are you trying to bribe your evaluator?" Annie asked.

"No, I'm demonstrating my potential as the Annie Unit. It's just a coincidence that The Annie is my evaluator."

"Well, then," she said with a sniff, clawing off a mouthful of the candy. The three humans breathed deeply in relief.

"Mkay, fen. Yer pwanning waf takeng a hit, fwum be'en stinchy wiff da chockwit." She swallowed. "But your quarterly returns have been rising since the Bebeast incident, so we've marked you down as 'showing improvement."

"Dad will be so proud," Ray said.

"Dad is the one who established the minimum required levels of chocolate," Annie agreed. "But Mom's the one whose organization chart differentiates between the American and the Imported chocolate."

"A key index in the Reagan Administration's plans for global economic stability," Susan said.

"As Hershey goes, so goes the nation," Thomas intoned seriously.

"Is this why these things are usually done in private?" Ray asked.

"But we're your FWENDS!" Susan said, shocked.

Annie jerked a thumb at her friend in a clear 'what she said' gesture. "Now about your adaptability," she said with a slow shake of her head, letting her voice trail off sadly.

"Oh, Lord," Ray moaned. "There was no COKE in the COKE machine. One should be able to depend on COKE machines having COKE. I did what any man would have in order to secure a supply of COKE."

"Was that the night you went out in the rain to find a Coke?" Thomas asked.

"As 2 AM?" Susan added.

"When," Annie pointed out, "there were no 'out of inventory' lights on the Pepsi machine on this or any other floor."

"I didn't want Pepsi," Ray growled.

"And thus your adaptability score!" Annie said brightly. There was a moment of silence.

"I suppose," Ray drawled, "I could have taken you on the search." Annie started to shake her head. "No, really, in the interests of full and complete appraisals, you should have accompanied me through the wind and the blowing rain to see how many Pepsi machines I walked past."

"There's no reason for me to suffer for your habit," Annie said quickly.

"You want to offer honest and accurate feedback," Ray said, "you should come along to everything I do."

"Doesn't she?" Susan asked, eyes wide.

"She doesn't go anywhere there will be drinking," Ray said.

"She," Annie corrected, "doesn't go anywhere there will be alcohol-scented vomit."

"I know my limits!" Ray protested.

"I remember," Thomas said. "And every time you pass them, you hiccup and say, 'Annie will be mad that I passed my limits.' And then you throw up, thus proving that you do know your limits."

"You!" Annie shouted, holding up a hand to interrupt Ray's defense. "Are not in a position to question the observations of your peers who actually remember the evening."

"Or at least that much of it," Thomas admitted.

Ray looked out the window. "All alone again," he sang softly. "Just can't wait to be all alone again. Getting feedback without comments from my friends. Just can't wait to be all alone again."

"Why did he make the eagle claws when he said the word friends?" Susan asked Thomas.

"No idea," he replied.

"What's left?" Ray asked the sylph.

"Professionalism," Annie replied.

"And what's my score?" "Well, you had a big uptick…" She made a point of lifting the paper to check a sheet buried on the clipboard. "Four years ago, when you made it possible for me to open the cage door myself." She referred back to the top sheet. "But what have you done for me lately?"

"Got you laid?" Ray asked.

"Was Brent during this marking period?" Susan asked.

"Poultry was," Thomas nodded.

"Noted under his Performance rating," Annie assured them. "But the professionalism of the Annie unit requires-"

"Cadbury," Ray said, flicking the empty wrapper with his finger. "Mars. M&M. Hershey. Godiva. Ghirardelli. Dove."

"Wait, wait, wait," Annie protested. She made a check mark on her paper. "Go slower or go in alphabetical order!"

Ray said, "Lindt," and spelled it slowly. "Reese," and spelled that. "Nestlé," and sparked a five minute conversation among the humans about whether not there really was an accent on the E in Nestlé.

Annie ignored them until someone asked where they could find an example Nestlé product to be sure.

"Oh, no," Ray said. "Going out in the weather to find a specific product when other brands were available tanked my adaptability score."

Four pair of eyes swung to the window where the sun shone brightly on the autumn colored trees, then back to the room. "Okay, well, anyway," Ray said. "What's my final score, performance?"

Annie made several marks on her sheet, pantomiming one doing a complicated math problem. "Add the stupid, carry the cute," she muttered.

"Cute helps," Susan assured Ray.

"Don't forget it's a leap year," Thomas suggested.

"Oh, thanks," Annie said, scribbling some more with the pencil lead in her hand.

"But it's not!" Ray protested.

"Oh, shit," Annie said, "that's right." She scratched the note out. "Divide by attention span of a lit firecracker…"

"Tough evaluator," Thomas said.

"Huh?"

"Your attention span."

"What about it?"

"What about what?"

"Both of ya's zip it!" Annie shouted. She stood up, tapped on the sheet. "Well, Master, looks like you squeaked by. Your official rating is 'You'll Do.'"

"YAY!" Ray cheered. He offered a high five and Thomas slapped him.

"Aw!" Susan protested.

"What?" Ray asked.

"She was supposed to say, 'I wuv ewe.' And then show you that she's not wearing any panties."

"Oh," Ray said, eyeing his pet speculatively.

"Um," Thomas said.

"What?" Susan asked.

"You think maybe they're not going to perform in FRONT of us?"

"Oh!" In two minutes they were out the door, making noises about a long dinner at a restaurant a long distance away.

Once the door shut, Ray scooted closer to the desk. "No panties?" "I can't imagine what Susan was thinking," Annie told him.

He stroked her blouse. "That's a lot of teeny tiny buttons."

"All drawn on," she said. "The shirt really has a Velcro strip in the back." She turned around.

He pinched the tail of her shirt out of the skirt and separated the two halves. "Why, so it DOES!" he said in apparent surprise. It slid off of her easily. In a moment of surmise, he pinched her skirt and tugged gently. That Velcro strip also parted.

His naked evaluator took off her glasses and let her hair down.

"Now, about that final score," he said.

Annie raised her arms, hands outstretched. "I wuuuv ewe." His hands cupped her gently and lifted her to his lips.



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