Corporate Man is called in to investigate reports of vile, unethical business practices at Great American Business Company. What he finds there just might destroy him (except we all know the ending to The Tragic Death of Corporate Man so it should be fairly obvious that it can't really destroy him, though it can come close).
Enslaved by the Bonus Whores is an all new Corporate Man Adventure Serial. Chapters will post every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Mr. Spittle was so long and dangly that Mr. Smith didn’t notice the tall, dark woman enter the room. Normally, he wouldn’t notice someone catching fire but he seemed oddly perceptive today.
“So. Mr. Smith, is it?”
The voice startled Mr. Smith and his sudden jerking motion sent Mr. Spittle flying.
“Oh. Bye, bye,” Mr. Smith said, forgetting about the woman.
Ms. Adams looked perplexed. After a moment she said, “What would you say if I told you that ‘Mr. Smith’ wasn’t your real name?”
There was no response.
“What would you say if I told you that we already know one another?”
“What if I could help you escape?” What if I could restore your memory? And what… What is that awful smell? It’s like a hamster cage… and fried eggs.”
“Oh. Oh no. Mr. Poopy,” said Mr. Smith.
“No. You can’t be serious,” said Ms. Adams.
“Hate Mr. Poopy.”
“You’re worse off than I thought. We need to get you out of here.” She stifled a gag. “Oh god, we need to change your pants.”
Ms. Adams explained that they had less than thirty minutes to make their escape as she wheeled Mr. Smith into the bathroom and pried off his sticky pants. She hosed him down with the shower’s detachable head, patted him dry, and then asked him to dress.
Mr. Smith had never been asked to do this and failed in the endeavor. Ms. Adams then assisted him.
“Look,” she said, grabbing his shoulders, “I need you to come back to me. I need you to remember. Your name is not Smith. It’s Jones. Don Jones.”
There was a flicker in his mind.
“And my name is Tanya Jefferson,” said the woman previously known as Ms. Adams. “The world calls me Business Woman. You are also know by another title.”
It was as if a damp cloth was swiped across the dusty surface of his mind. Sharp wood grains and a gleaming brown veneer appeared where once resided a gray, powdery haze.
“I’m… I’m Corporate Man,” he said.
Business Woman smiled. “Yes you are. Now come with me. There is much to be done. The economy needs you.”