Kevin: The Certified Support Vegetable

The new HR lead, Agnes, beamed. "Team, meet Kevin." From behind her, a small, rather green, and entirely inanimate stalk of asparagus emerged, sitting upright in a miniature, bespoke wheelbarrow. It looked resolutely unenthusiastic.

"Kevin," Agnes continued, gesturing with the flourish of a magician unveiling a dove, "is our new emotional support vegetable. He reminds us to reach for our full potential, even when faced with the crushing weight of quarterly reports."

Gary, from accounts, blinked slowly. "Is it… edible?"

Agnes gasped, a sound usually reserved for discovering a missing stapler. "Gary! Kevin is a symbol, a beacon! He's undergone extensive certification. We even have his papers."

She produced a laminated card showing a photo of an asparagus stalk next to a microscopic, official-looking watermark. "His name is Kevin," she reiterated, "because he's 'K-VIN', as in, 'Key to Victory In Navigating Stressful Situations'."

A pregnant beat of silence.

"Right," Gary mumbled, returning to his spreadsheet. "Well, as long as he's not taking up valuable server space, I suppose."

Later that day, Gary found Kevin unattended by the water cooler. He leaned in conspiratorially. "Look, Kevin," he whispered, "I'm not saying I don't appreciate the effort. But if you could just stand in for me during the Monday morning stand-up, that would be truly supportive." He straightened up, adjusted his tie. "I'll take that as a yes."