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, April 6, 2012
The tech boys stormed into the bathroom like a swat team. Each movement practiced to perfect reflective action, their formations models of efficiency, tested in computer simulations thousands of times.
“He’s there,” said one of the boys in the standard, black and pale yellow field tech uniform as he pointed to the slumped D.O.S.
The boy wearing the black blazer with the significant elbow pads, scratched at his stubble-less chin. “They’ve been here too,” he said, “and so has The Greed.”
“How can you tell without running a battery?” the tech boy in the collared, sleeveless, pale yellow shirt and black shorty shorts said.
“Easy. Use your nose. That smell of covetous sweat, dirty money, and exorbitant filth is The Greed’s signature scent,” the blazered tech boy said.
“Oh. Is that what that is? I just thought it meant that someone dropped a deuce,” said shorty shorts.
“That’s because you’re new, newbie,” said a standard issue tech boy.
“Wait,” said shorty shorts, “how did we even know to look in here?”
A standard issue boy rolled his eyes and said, “Easy. Our system monitors all our people in the field. We ran a search for any operative whose bodily readouts were instable. This guy pinged something fierce.”
“Looks like they escaped into the ventilation system,” the blazered tech boy said, pointing to the grating on the wall. Viscous, gelatinous ooze dribbled from it’s horizontal slits.
“Sick,” said shorty shorts.
“Yes. Sick indeed,” said blazer. “In you go, newbie.”
“What? Why’s it gotta be me?” asked shorty shorts.
“I thought we went over this already,” said blazer. “Because you’re new.”
Shorty-shorts’s shoulders slumped. His head fell forward and he kicked the tile floor as he made his way over to the ventilation access; a chorus of jeers and laughter salting his little figurative wounds.