Suku said to the abbot: “Last month I was ordered to completely re-implement the data visualization module. I requested seven developers with various specialities so that the overhaul could be accomplished in one iteration. Today I emerged from my quarters to find twenty-one strange little monks waiting for me in the hall.”
With great enthusiasm, the abbot replied: “Are they not marvelous? We found them in a distant province which was recently beset by famine or earthquakes or giant red beetles; I forget the specifics. They eat sparingly, sleep only two hours a night, and they are willing to forgo cubicles and code while dangling from the rafters, so they will incur very little overhead. With such a team you should be able to make up the lost time, and complete the seven weeks’ work in a mere seven days.”
Suku sighed, put two fingers to her mouth, and blew a shrill whistle. At the sound a dozen tiny robed figures jumped from the rafters onto the stunned abbot, knocking him unconscious.
The abbot awoke in a dark stone pit with a single candle burning by his side. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he discovered a rat-scoured skeleton in abbot’s robes, on which was pinned a note:
Above you lies a square trap door:
sturdy, yet light and unlocked.
To aid your exit I have attached the best hinges—
Seven along each edge.