Kwee could not consider himself to be a white-collared worker. After all, he was no different from the lady whom everyone, at his small publishing firm, called "Auntie Gek". She emptied the wastepaper bins at every non descript cubicle that his colleagues and him had come to call "home" and she made sure that everyone at Your Page Publishing House get their daily dose of caffeine and other drinks. Kwee thought he was rather similar to Auntie Gek. Being a copywriter drew slightly more attention from women from the usual bars he frequented with his friends but the real day-to-day dealings of the job were often misconstrued by the ladies to be anything but intellectually stimulating and carefree. Service the clients. Get them what they want. Work hard and think harder. Go deeper than that, girls. But he could not bring himself to tell that to them. "Kwee...Got a new job for you." Mei, the big traffic lady stood by his chair as he slowly adjusted back to reality. Back to the sounds of typing keys, chatterings and laughter that came from the surrounding cubicles. She held a brown A4-sized envelope in her thick arms which she soon deftly plopped in front of him. Stapled on the envelope was the job brief - A piece of white paper with a bunch of amendments which the client wanted done for the ad- The ad which kept on returning to him like a boomerang. He leafed through the pages of the brief. There it was. A photocopy of the version he and his art director had last proposed. It had enough circles and underlines and corrections on it to make it a fine art piece. Kwee sighed. He had often felt that his years of study in art school had imbued him with the tenacity and foresight to pre-empt and suffer disappointments such as the one he was holding in his hands right now. The disappointments he had been facing proved to be didactic – a collective testament to his pride as a young and idealistic copywriter and at the same time, reminding him of his achievements thus far as a 26-year-old. He had worked hard and he was proud of it. His mother had never been more proud of him than she gave birth to five other siblings older than Kwee. He looked at the numerous circles and underlined corrections that needed his attention and set to work his reliable PC. He couldn't wait for the I.T. people to upgrade his PC into a Mac. What were they waiting for? He was the only copywriter left waiting for it. But that didn't stop him from lovingly decorating his PC. He had a Barny on top has monitor, accompanied by an Ultraman. Yes, somehow he had this crazy obsession for Barney. He thought it could be the combination of his love for ferocious man-eating dinosaurs and the colour purple. So type type type he went on. His cursor travelled to one side of the screen and continued its journey once again on a lower line. That's when things began to happen. An msn messenger message box popped up on his screen unannounced. TO BE CONTINUED...