Hmmm, setting, you say...

Alice hears Leah hang up her phone on the other side of the cube wall. She raises her eyebrows at Freddy to let him know her time has come.
“Bye dude,” he says.
Alice resists the urge again to explain to him she is a dudette. He says goodbye like that to everyone. It’s one of the quirks that make him lovable. She finishes the five step journey to Leah’s side of the cubicle wall. Leah is typing an email.
“Just a sec,” Leah murmurs.
“Take your time,” Alice says. The production team is downstairs from her department and it’s unlikely anyone with real work for her to do will happen upon her here. Her purpose for seeing Leah could have easily been relayed by email or phone, but Alice was sick of looking at the pictures in her cubicle. She looks at the pictures in Leah’s: mushroom cloud, storm troopers, a cartoon of garden gnomes roasting a plastic pink flamingo on a spit…
“Here are your fucking ISBNs,” Leah mumbles as she types, “the same fucking ISBNs I sent you last fucking Tuesday. They are in the fucking folder. I put them in the fucking folder because you always complain you can’t fucking find them. May you fucking choke on them. Thank you, Leah Schultz.”
Alice Leahns forward to read the screen. As per your request on 1-16, I am sending you the ISBNs for the Dayle Screener report files, again. If you misplace the email with these ISBNs again you can locate them in the Dayle folder system on the common drive. They were posted to the folder “Dayle ISBNs” last week. Thank you, Leah Schultz
“How can you say one thing out loud while typing another,” Alice asks.
“I’m godlike,” Leah says. “What’s up?”
“I’m SAD.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Freddy told me I’m SAD.”
“That bastard.”
Alice smiles.
“Seasonal affective disorder,” Freddy hollers louder than necessary considering he overheard them talking at normal volume. “She’s sad because there isn’t any sun.”
“’There isn’t any sun,’ isn’t that slogan for our company,” Leah smiles.