Linear Accelerator Stapler

Gerald stepped into the copy room, the sheaf of papers in hand. The stapler – usually affixed firmly to the table – had been replaced by a sign:

"Stapler through opposite door.
Please wear eye protection."

Reluctantly donning a white coat and nominal goggles, Gerald stepped into a room containing massive arrays of electronics replete with blinking LEDs and confusing dials. Dominating the room, however, was what looked like the end of a particle accelerator beam line.

Puzzled, he placed the papers into a likely looking tray, which snapped them inside the evacuated cylinder.

The bolts clicked home deep within the door behind Gerald, and a quiet humming was the only indication of activity. The sound came from the metal of the tube, but sounded somehow... distant.

It was getting louder.

A display on the wall above the tube showed a red blip accelerating towards, presumably, the Staple Room. The whine became more intense and high pitched, and the banks of electronics blinked more urgently. Green turned to yellow, and then to red as the timers sprinted towards zero. The tube sang louder and just when Gerald was considering some MacGuyver style escape... it stopped, rather anticlimactically.

The tray hissed open, and his article lay there innocently – intact, and bound by a single staple, still glowing slightly.