The Comedy Wheeze

In an office somewhere in the world, people are being driven slowly insane.

Insane by the sound of a fellow co-worker's breathing difficulties.

We're not talking about asthma here. We're not talking about anything terminal or remotely serious.

In fact, what it sounds like we're talking about is a comedy wheeze due to a snotty nose.

To imagine the sound made by this member of staff, you should imagine being sat at a computer terminal. The air around you is still, and the atmosphere of the office reflects efficient work-flow.

Eventually during a break in your thought-process, you become aware of what sounds like an old man asleep and sat behind you. He's not snoring, but he's got that wheeze that old people make when they're sat there trying to work out what step is best to take next in the Telegraph crossword.

Maybe you should put it to bed immediately and ask him if he's got any problems with his breathing. Maybe you should give him a mug of tea, the mug branded with the phrase in bright white bold text on red background:

SORT YOUR BREATHING OUT.

Maybe you should just be sensible as the afforementioned office have, and just talk amongst eachother about how amusing it is.

I guess it depends if you're mature or not.

But what if he's an alien? What if he's infiltrating our office networks, loading viruses that'll bring our banks and major businesses grinding to a halt?

The year is 2012, and we're hauling blocks of concrete on top of other blocks of concrete to build enormous tributes hundreds of feet high celebrating the rule of an alien race. Our backs are whipped raw and bleeding, and all people will say is:

You heard him wheezing, why didn't you say something?