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, June 1, 2012
“Greed!” Tanya called out when she was finally within sight of The Greed-boy’s body. She trudged forward. He didn’t seem to pay her any attention, but an increased flailing of his tentacle limbs advised her of the contrary.
She ducked and dodged and scooted and spun and dove and even cart-wheeled her way closer.
“Greed!” she yelled. When he ignored her again Tanya yelled another grunting scream, grabbed a handful of change from the jar, and pitched the coins at The Greed-boy.
She was hoping the minor nuisance would possibly gain his attention. What she didn’t expect was for the coins to sizzle and hiss, like holy water on a vampire, when they struck his body.
The Greed bellowed like an elephant as the coins embedded in his flesh and slowly burned their way deeper. His flailing tentacle limbs stiffened, flexing straight. A creamy, gelatinous, poopy ooze bubbled from the coin wounds.
Tanya hesitated for a moment and then flicked a dime at one of The Greed’s nearby tentacles. It struck, embedded, and hissed; melting the flesh like gasoline on a Styrofoam cup. She tossed a quarter at another tentacle and the effect was twice as violent.
A smile spread across Tanya’s lips and when spoke, her voice was loud and authoritative.
“You people should be disgusted with yourselves. Look how far The Greed has gotten into you. Literally. It’s sick. You’re overly concerned with material goods, possessions, and getting more, more, more. There are little girls like this out there who are in need.”
She hoisted the donation jar above her head and jittering vibrations pulsed through The Greed’s tentacle limbs.
“She needs a heart transplant, people. How many discount televisions and gallon-sized jugs of Muscle Fuel do you really think you need in comparison to that? Perhaps all of you need a new heart.”
There was a still moment in which Tanya doubted whether her words had produced any practical effect. And then one of the tentacle arms popped, vaporizing in a whiff of reddish, copper-scented dust. The bludgeoned woman at the end of the tentacle dropped twenty feet to the concrete floor of the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore where she writhed in both physical and emotional agony.
A series of similar metallic explosions, with a cadence not unlike a bag of popping corn, echoed throughout the store as The Greed’s limbs self-destructed.
“I’ve still got the boy,” The Greed-boy gurgled, his body spurting nasty fluids from the coin-sized wounds.
“I’ve got a whole jug of change here, Greed. I’m willing to bet it will drive you out. And there are a few bills in here too. If a quarter donation inflicts more damage than a dime, think of how severe the effects of a buck or a fiver will be. Oh. Look. Someone was charitable enough to donate a twenty.”
Tanya grabbed the twenty from the jar and waved it back and fourth, taunting The Greed like a matador teasing a bull.