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.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
The bossman was on all fours, speed crawling through the debris and unconscious shoppers strewn about the superstore. A steady stream of one syllable expletives beginning with the letter “F” poured from his mouth.
He crawled right past Mr. Jones.
Monday, May 28, 2012
The woman with too many teeth opened the door from the special stairway and stepped onto the sales floor where she was immediately struck with a Price Killers Wholesale Superstore customer and knocked unconscious. She lost another handful of pearly white teeth in the collision but still had more teeth than the average person.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Shorty shorts tech boy had not stopped screaming. From the moment he ran onto the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore sales floor he’d been in constant shriek. The Greed’s tentacle arms had yet to touch him though many a narrow miss had contributed to shorty shorts’s prolonged squealing.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Tanya fought through the tangle of flailing greed-tentacles, dodging the abused fists as they made every attempt to level her.
It was as if The Greed knew she held something toxic to him and was herding her as far from his central host body as he could.
Tanya pressed onward.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The bossman’s car screeched to a halt at the front entrance to the Price Killers. There were streaks of automobile paint scratched down the length the driver’s side and broken bits of taillights lodged into the front bumper. The bossman exited the vehicle, a huge, satisfied grin on his face, and thoughts of those teenaged bastards trying to explain to angry parents just what had happened to their speedy little cars drifting pleasantly through his mind.
Monday, May 21, 2012
The remaining conscious tech boys regrouped in the superstore restrooms. The blazered one barked orders but most of the orders had to do with going back out onto the sales floor and none of the standard issue techs were willing to do that.
Friday, May 18, 2012
A helicopter landed on the roof of the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore and the woman with too many teeth got out. She ducked her head and made her way to the rooftop door that exists on all large corporate structures for just such helicoptered-in visitors.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Tanya dodged another patron-fisted attack as she made her way to Mr. Jones. The impact with the body builder had nearly taken his head off and he was rolling around defenseless. She dove over a swinging tentacle and ducked as a mustachioed man whipped overhead.
The Greed was cackling and shouting words of triumph as his customer capped fists grew ever redder.
Tanya tried to tug Mr. Jones to his feet, but he flinched and rolled away from her. He was clutching his chest. Was he having a heart attack? Or was he holding on to something? Tanya grabbed him again and rolled him over. His hands, knuckles completely white, were clenched around a plastic donation jug full of loose change and small bills.
“Jones! Are you okay? Jones! Hey Jonesy. What’s with the donation jar? Is it part of your plan to take out The Greed? And what about these baggies?”
Tanya lunged to the side, narrowly avoiding a bloodied up Price Killers customer. Mr. Jones was not so lucky and received a shoulder and an elbow to the upper abdomen and crotch, respectively.
Mr. Jones gasped and moaned and groped for his injured parts.
“Sorry, Jones. Let’s get you out of the line of fire,” Tanya said, dragging him under a cash register. “What’s with the jar, Jonesy?”
The sounds that came out of Mr. Jones’s mouth were nothing close to intelligible; not even close to English. The confused look in his eyes was enough to convince Tanya that her partner had taken too much of a pounding to recall what, if any, significance the donation jar actually held.
One glance at the sad little girl pictured on the jar left Tanya with a pang of guilt; ashamed that material goods were more important to most people these days than they well being of a fellow human. At least some had cared enough to donate. Tanya’s eyes flared briefly. Then she wrestled the jar from Mr. Jones and charged out into the chaos of the superstore.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Blood streamed down Mr. Jones’s face but it was impossible to tell if it was his blood or blood from the customers that The Greed had pummeled him with. Mr. Jones had taken at least six good, hard hits from these patron fists. His vision had gone blurry on the second shot when the forehead of a fat woman slammed into his left temple. The next few swings either missed or glanced off his body, but a third, direct hit, left him with a high pitched ringing sound in his ears.
Mr. Jones scurried along the floor, The Greed’s fists hammering all around him destroying store shelves and merchandise displays. When he reached the checkout stands, Mr. Jones groped for a donation jar, the image of the bald little girl was the last thing he saw before a large, well-muscled man who’d been stocking up on body building supplements, connected with Mr. Jones’s face.
Friday, May 11, 2012
“Move it you teenaged fucks!” the bossman shouted.
What was wrong with the youth of today? Were they all pussies? In his time there were only two ways to drive a car: fast and faster. He was certain that this had not changed, that kids today still felt that the accelerator belonged on the floor. So how did they instinctively know to slow down when they were in front of him?
He should never have chanced driving past the highschool on his way to the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore. Now he had three jackassed teens boxing him in, all exploding with laughter whenever he pounded the dash or screamed expletives at them.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
The woman with too many teeth was so happy it was pissing her off. It felt like all of her teeth were trying to jam themselves into one gigantic Cheshire grin and she knew this was wreaking havoc on the wrinkle-less parts of her face. As for the areas already plagued with age lines they were, no doubt, suffering utter catastrophe.
Still, she could not help it. Her tech boys had ferreted out Corporate Man and she was moments from landing on the roof of the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore.
Monday, May 7, 2012
“Move! Move! Move!” the blazered tech boy shouted, motioning his agents through the entrance to the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore. “Scout team reports major activity with our targets. Head directly to the back of the store. Double time it ladies. This is our moment to shine.”
The standard issue tech boys charged onto the sales floor shouting various peppy slogans.
“Let’s show ‘em what we’re made of!”
“Death before dishonor!”
Of the boys at the head of the charge, only one managed to squeak out an “oh crap” before being pummeled by a greed-puppetted patron. Unconsciousness took them immediately.
The tech boys in the middle of the pack were able to scream multiple variations of “oh crap” as they slid to a stop, more than eager to turn back. A few even called out for their mommies as they were beaten limp by the bodies of compromised customers jammed on the ends of wild swinging greed-tentacles.
Those bringing up the rear of the charge scattered without any physical damage, but more than one would suffer the dishonor of discharging a few involuntary squirts of urine into his pants as he frantically sought shelter.
The scene was too much for the fragile mind of shorty-shorts tech boy. He completely lost it and ran screaming. But, without his wits, he ran headlong into the heart of the superstore, not out.
Friday, May 4, 2012
The orange Halloween haze and black-lit colors faded from Mr. Jones’s sight leaving him in the fluorescent ache of the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore. The Greed-boy leaned against a store display, tapping his foot and rocking in an agitated manner.
“Finally,” said The Greed-boy. “You know, you should get yourself checked. Zoning out like that in the middle of a fight. Gonna get you killed some day.”
Mr. Jones glanced around. His eyes were confused and lost until he spotted Tanya and her box of freezer bags. Then the clarity returned.
“Leave that boy alone, Greed,” Mr. Jones said.
“Ah yes. That’s it,” said The Greed-boy, the deep gurgle returning to his voice. He sauntered forward a couple of steps. “The boy is mine and will be for his entire life.”
“Fight him boy. Cast him out!”
“Arrghh! No!” yelled The Greed-boy.
“Be like… Dick Danger,” Mr. Jones said spotting the rocket man image on the boy’s shirt. “Be a hero. Be upstanding and honest.”
“Arrh. Oh no. What’s happening to me?” The Greed-boy screamed, clutching at his lower abdomen. “I can’t stand it. It’s… It’s… not working this time.”
The Greed-boy stood upright and smirked with the boy’s mouth.
“Fight him boy. Fight,” Mr. Jones tried again.
“Do you even know what kind of space ranger Dick Danger is?” asked The Greed-boy, the gurgle in his voice slightly diminished. “He wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of any situation in order to get what he wanted. He’s not like the upstanding, noble heroes you used to get. After all these years, the heroes these kids look up to are more like me than they are like you.”
“I… I…” Mr. Jones stammered.
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Tanya. “This? This is that big moment your were blathering on about while Jonesy was in his trance?”
The Greed-boy smiled, and with a low, gurgle-choked voice he said, “Not exactly. It went a little more like this.”
The possessed boy raised his arms and a dozen nearby Price Killers Wholesale Superstore customers lifted off the ground, a dirty, translucent, slimy tentacle jammed up their backsides. They swayed back and forth, held aloft like filthy puppets.
“I’m deep into most of
these days,” The Greed-boy shouted over the rising screams of the un-puppetted
shoppers. “Look around your Corporate Man. It’s my kind of world and you’re just an
insignificant clean spot waiting to be stained.”
More customers throughout the superstores rose up from the ground. Cracks fissured through the concrete floor and beastly greed-tentacles erupted all around. The Greed-boy waited just a moment longer, for effect, and then he started swinging Price Killers Wholesale Superstore patrons at Tanya and Mr. Jones; like a sludgy octopus deftly wielding people-mallets.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Waiting for news, and all the dashboard boxing, had left the bossman with an appetite. He pulled into a Super King’s Biggie Burger and ordered a giganto meal. He was especially looking forward to the pound of fries. The food at SKBB was lackluster, but for three and half bucks he got the aforementioned pound of fries, the giganto burger (which had a total of four buns, three quarter-pound patties, and two varieties of flavored processed cheese melted over every single slab of meat-like substance), and a thirty-two ounce soda. For a quarter more he could upsize to the sixty-four ounce drink. As a bonus for upsizing his burger would come with three slices of bacon, tenderly strewn across the melted cheese of every burger patty.
Nine slices of bacon!
It was quite a bargain and well worth the stomach cramping and horrendous gas he’d suffer through later.
He paid for his meal at window one and waited his turn at window two. His mouth salivated and his butt flinched. Then his phone beeped, alerting him of a text message.
Now? Really? Just when he was about to get his gloriously colossal giganto burger? Great. It was going to be a confirmed sighting of the illusive codename: The Bull and it would ruin the lovely meal he’d cultivated here.
He read the text message.
East Side Branch is happy to report continued success in the monitoring of the whereabouts of subject: the Bull. Current position: Price Killers Wholesale Superstore. Additional monitoring success for subject: Miss Adams. The former secretary of Northside Branch continues to accompany primary subject.
The bossman was still yelling the word “bitch” in rapid fire succession when the SKBB employee opened window number two. After she handed the giganto meal to the bossman she went to the restroom and cried.