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.

Monday, January 7, 2013

Chapter 159

“Why don’t we post a man at each intersection and maintain line-of-sight contact,” Commander Credit said.  His suggestion was met with a lukewarm response.  Nobody thought separation of any kind would prove beneficial, especially now that they’d confirmed Corporate Man’s suspicions.
The corridors were shifting.
“We’ve got to do something,” Commander Credit continued.  “These hallways aren’t fixed and this constant rearrangement will keep us running around forever.  We know there are people here, but we only catch glimpses of them disappearing around corners.  And except for that psuedo-gym we haven’t seen any other rooms or offices.”
“Well what’s that?” Franklin Buck said, pointing to a door just inside a hallway behind Commander Credit.  A hallway which may, or may not, have been there moments before.  On the door, in big black blocky letters, was one word.
There was a moment of silent thought in which the members of the Union glanced around at each other with puzzled but scrutinizing looks.  Almost in unison, they approached the door.  A murmur of office noises, including human voices, hummed on the other side.
“We’re not really dressed for this,” said Senior Executive.
“I don’t care,” said Fair Wage.  “My thighs are starting to bruise.”
He opened the “office” door and went inside.
A network of short cubicles spread out before him.  At first the general murmur maintained its constant, efficient hum.  Then a few employees milling around the coffee maker or walking toward the copy machine, caught a glimpse of the old man called Fair Wage.  The murmur softened and then it rose again as the word spread.  Those still in their cubicles popped up like prairie dogs to see what all the commotion was about.
After a few moments, there was silence.
“What should we do?” whispered Supply.
Corporate man shrugged.  “Act natural.”
“Yeah.  No problem for Fair Wage,” said Business Woman.
“Excuse me,” a man said as he submissively charged toward them.  He wore a light-blue sweater-vest over a white shirt, grey chords, and shiny black shoes. “Who are you?  Are you new hires?  We don’t have any positions open at present.  Were you sent by upper management? What are you wearing?  Sorry.  Amendment.  Why aren’t you wearing business casual?”
Corporate Man stepped forward and placed his arm over the nervous man’s shoulder.  This had an effect on the nervous man much like a shark fin cresting the water near a reluctant skinny dipper.
“What’s your name son?” Corporate Man said in a soothing tone.  This tone made the nervous man’s ass clench.  The use of the word “son” made him prickle with fear-sweat.
“Kevin,” he squeaked.
“Kevin,” Corporate Man said, even and monotone.  “Didn’t you get the e-mail?”
Kevin straightened up.  He was comfortable with e-mails.  Memos of any sort really.
“Have they added some sort of theme-day to the dress code?” he asked, secretly hoping it might be true.
“Yeah,” said Business Woman.  “Underpants Tuesday.”
“Really?  But today’s not Tuesday.  Is it?” said Kevin.
“Would we be in our underpants if it wasn’t?” asked Senior Executive. 
Kevin made a gasping, squawking, squeaky sound and then ran toward his desk.