Not so long ago, in a galaxy not so far away, people worked in offices next to each other, and there was drama: you know, petty rivalries, ambition, and the resident narcissist who puts everyone down in order to feed a petty little ego. From “The Mary Tyler Moore Show”to “30 Rock,” this place can be comedy gold.

And sitcom-land is exactly where you feel you are at the beginning of “Gloria,” set in the world of magazine publishing. Premiering in Houston and written by MacArthur Genius Grant recipient Branden Jacobs-Jenkins, this Pulitzer Prize finalist satirizes the toxic workplace with a shocking climax and a fascinating aftermath.

Directed by Houston theater icon James Black, you will never think of work in the same way after watching this version of the stress-fest of pressure in the world of media and journalism.

With Kevin Rigdon’s spot-on stage and lighting design, 4th Wall continues to consistently knock it out of the ball park with convincing and clever staging that perfectly fits the small and intimate theater experience that is really like no other in Houston. From computers to Starbucks cappuccino cups to pop- music suicides, the realism works.

The play opens with classical music (this is New York publishing—only the best can be here,amirite?) lulling us into thinking that this is going to be A Regular Play. Uh, no.

For the first half, we have an intriguing quartet of office workers, all on various places of the food chain of the publishing industry. Wow, these people are miserable.

There is Dean, expertly played by Wesley Whitson, who actually works, but is bitter about the elite privilege he perceives his co-workers to have. He isn’t wrong. Uber-obnoxious Kendra (Karina Pal Montaño-Bowers) hardly works, but insults her co-workers at every turn: her plan for success is to tear those around her down between trips to Starbucks. Ani (the superlative Skyler Sinclair) is over-educated and slightly nicer, but seems to be floating through a world with a demand for ambition and ruthlessness. Then we have Miles (the utterly convincing Tadrian White), the Harvard educated intern who mostly gets Vitamin Water and Luna Bars out of the vending machine. He isn’t sold on this whole publishing thing, and for good reason: the ludicrousness of the enterprise is easy to satirize, and some of the lines are funny.

Everyone is anxious about their own professional futures, but they sure have a lot of time for snark and prying. It’s fun to watch, but prepare to be super glad you are not them. They live in a world that “feels like the frickin’ Titanic,” with the specter of “turning 30 in a cubicle” ever present. Wasted potential, regret, competition, oblivion, and mental instability: this is the cocktail of corporate American life, and it takes a toll.

Brooke Wilson plays Gloria, a lonely and ignored co-worker who has been at the magazine for years, yet when she gives a party, most do not show up—a scathing critique of the impersonal nature of corporate and cubical culture, where no one knows anyone else well, and there is little humanity in the race to the top. Wilson really mesmerizes playing Nan, a high powered editor who decides to appropriate a tragedy into her own economic gain. But you can’t judge Nan too harshly: everyone else is doing their own version of this as other editors and writers jockey to get their own voices in world of book publishing.

The meltdowns and backstabbing are a marvel to watch. But don’t worry—there is a wonderful glimmer of hope in the midst of all these wars of words: Brandon Hearnsberger’s comic and moving performance as fact-checker Lorin—both before and after the stunning event that sends everyone reeling—is a stirring reminder of the roller coaster of emotions that this world (where your superiors can “hold you hostage emotionally”) demands.

With a stellar ensemble cast playing multiple roles, and the right mix of comedy and tragedy, the glory of “Gloria” will stay with audiences for a long time: it strikes so many nerves, and that is exactly what we need now as we transition from COVID culture to whatever comes next.

Doni Wilson is a Houston-based writer.