Diwrnod y gweithdy oedd e. Gorymdeithiai’r Prifdaten o gwmpas yr ardd, yn cyhoeddi y byddai’n disgwyl i bawb gymryd rhan ynddo. Roedd bwrdd gwyn, pennau blaen ffelt, a nodiadau Post-It. Llawer o nodiadau Post-It.
– YMGASGLWCH DRAW FAN HYN OS GWELWCH CHI’N DDA, bloediodd y Prifdaten.
Edrychodd Daf y gath arno mewn dirmyg.
– Beth yw’r proses, ‘te? meddai, heb ddiddordeb.
– YR YDYN YN MYND I ORCHUDDIO’R BWRDD HWN Â NODIADAU POST-IT, bloediodd y Prifdaten, yn bwysig.
– O’r gore, meddai Daf, yn llyfu ei draed.
Gorchuddiodd pawb y bwrdd gwyn â nodiadau Post-It. Ar ôl sbel, doedd dim gwyn i’w weld. A doedd dim byd ar y nodiadau Post-It chwaith.
– Be’ sy’ nesa? gofynnodd Jeff y gath, yn cyrraedd y cyfarfod yn hwyr, gan oedd hi wedi bod yn chwilio am y staff.
– TRAFODAETH SYDD NESAF, bloediodd y Prifdaten.
– Trafod beth yn union? meddai Daf. – Beth yw’r pwynt? Lot o hen lol yw hyn. Gallwch chi wthio eich nodiadau Post-It lle nad yw’r haul yn disgleirio.
Anwybyddodd y Prifdaten Daf.
– TRAFODAETH SYDD NESAF, bloediodd eto.
Dilynodd llawer o sŵn diystyr.
– Wedd hi’n well ‘da fi lynu nodiadau Post-It ar bethau, meddai Jeff.
– Pan ddaw yr hunllef i ben? beichiodd Daf.
– Sai’mod, meddai Jeff, – ond dwi isie’m mrecwast.
Roedd Franz Kafka wrth ei fodd gyda’r digwyddiadau. Cuddiodd selsigen arall er mwyn dathlu.
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It was workshop day. The Prime Potato was marching around the garden, announcing that he would be expecting everyone to take part in it. There was a whiteboard, felt-tip pens, and Post-It notes. Lots of Post-It notes.
– GATHER OVER HERE IF YOU PLEASE, shouted the Prime Potato.
Dave the cat looked at him in disdain.
– What’s the process, then? he said, without interest.
– WE ARE GOING TO COVER THE BOARD IN POST-IT NOTES, shouted the Prime Potato, importantly.
– OK, said Dave, licking his feet.
Everyone covered the board with Post-It notes. After a while, no white was visible. And there was nothing on the Post-It notes either.
– What’s next? asked Jeff the cat, arriving at the meeting late, as she had been searching for the staff.
– IT IS DISCUSSION NEXT, shouted the Prime Potato.
– Discuss what exactly? said Dave. – What’s the point? This is a lot of old nonsense. You can shove your Post-It notes where the sun doesn’t shine.
The Prime Potato ignored Dave.
– IT IS DISCUSSION NEXT, he shouted again.
There followed a lot of meaningless noise.
– I preferred sticking Post-It notes on things, said Jeff.
– When will this nightmare end? sobbed Dave.
– Dunno, said Jeff, – but I want my breakfast.
Franz Kafka was delighted with events. He hid another sausage to celebrate.
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