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.

After nearly a decade of imprisonment, Corporate Man returns to find the economy in ruins and his deadliest enemies in control of all but a fraction of society's wealth. He embarks upon a quest to set right the wrongs of the business world; a task that will ultimately destroy him.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Chapter 72

The bossman held a flannel shirt he’d swiped from a discount bin over his face.  He was not about to inhale this stuff.  The dust stung his eyes and he contemplated a detour through the athletic department to check for swimming goggles, but it was taking far too long for him to locate codename: The Bull – aka Corporate Man – as it was.  Think about what the possible composition of the brownish dust might really be seriously unnerved him. 
And then he spotted his target.
The bossman’s eyes flared.  This allowed more of the reddish-brown dust to land on his exposed eyeballs causing excessive blinking and tears.  He should have narrowed his eyes.  The desired effect would have been similar and far more appropriate considering the airborne circumstances.
Corporate Man was near the woman, subject: Ms. Adams.  He was stooping, trying to pick up a box of, what looked like, freezer bags.  She was waving around a twenty dollar bill in a manner that was quite tawdry.
Both had their backs turned toward him. 
This should be easy.
There was a cessation of those strange exploding sounds, the ones that signaled the eruption of greed-tentacles, and released this dreadful dust.  But then there was another sound.  A deranged wailing, war cry of a sound.
The bossman turned and the last thing he saw before three of his ribs snapped was a terrifying image of a pasty, bare legs, pumping madly as a screaming man-boy wearing shorty shorts crashed into him.