3.c.ix
The bossman
felt great, despite his aching ribs.
Nothing beat the high one got from leveraging another human being and
profiting from it so quickly. The bonus
numbers were looking good. He was almost
giddy. In fact, he hadn’t felt this
elated since the whole Corporate Man affair had started.
He should fire
someone.
He opened a
program on his desk top.
Seedy lounge
music seeped from his speakers as a title screen for Subordinate Roulette
popped up on his monitor. The bossman
selected “Continue Saved Game” from the options and a roulette wheel appeared,
dominating most of the screen. Ugly, sad
looking people squat in the outer pockets where the red and black numbers
should have been. A heaving chested
blonde in minimal attire smiled cheerfully next to the wheel, gesturing toward
it like a game-show-prize model.
The bossman
clicked a drop down menu and selected “Update Employee Directory.” This imported a list of current employees
into the game and avatars of randomly selected workers materialized on the
roulette wheel. He clicked another
button and the cheerful blonde bent over the wheel revealing her every asset as
she rolled a chrome ball into the spinning apparatus.
There was a
pleasant clacking sound as the ball bounced around. The employee avatars shrieked and shuddered
when it struck nearby. And then, with a
satisfying plunking splut, the ball crushed a man with short, banker hair and
glasses.
The bossman
fingered the intercom and said, “Bring me employee #8008, Mr. Stanley
Curtsfield. And have security escort him
up here so he’ll suspect what’s going on.”
“That’s
reprehensible,” a booming voice sounded from somewhere in the room. The bossman jumped up from his desk, winced,
and clutched his side, stymieing a whimper.
Corporate Man
dropped into the room from a vague upward direction. The bossman looked around, confused and
slightly panicked. Before he could
speak, Corporate Man surged forward, grabbed the bossman by the shirt collar and
said, “No. I don’t have an appointment.”