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.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Book Two Available Now!
The concluding volume of The Tragic Death of Corporate Man: a hero for capitalism; champion of the working class is available now. Go to https://www.createspace.com/4148636 and order a copy now. If you find yourself way out of the cool-loop and still need volume one, here's the link for it as well. https://www.createspace.com/3903289
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Chapter 181
7.a.iv.
“How much
longer do you think it will take them to reach the top?” asked Business Woman.
Senior
Executive shrugged. Corporate Man and
Commander Credit had gone on ahead, climbing the metal-rung ladder into the
darkness above while the rest of the Union waited on top
of the false elevator at the bottom of the shaft. Discussions had lead them to a conclusion
that this was the best course of action considering their experience with the
ever descending staircase between the lobby and the thirteenth floor.
Senior
Executive reviewed his portfolio on his smart phone and Business Woman chatted
with Supply, their discussion often returning to the relationship of Supply and
Demand. Demand tried to ignore them but
couldn’t help feeling irritated by divulgences of matters he considered
personal in nature.
A beep sounded
on Senior Executive’s phone.
He read the
text and said, “They’ve made it. They’re
on the 39th floor.”
There was a
feeling of relief and an urge to celebrate.
This was immediately crushed by the realization that they now had to
undertake a dark, thirteen story climb up a ladder of metal rungs.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Chapter 180
7.a.iii.
Also in the
dark, but in the other direction, was Franklin Buck. And he was falling. Not straight down a shaft, but in a curling
tube, like a water-park slide, only much steeper. And without the benefit of the water. Or the enjoyment.
The slide didn’t
alter its course, remaining on a continuous downward corkscrew. The friction had burned for the first few
minutes but the tube walls eventually became greasy. This decreased the burning sensation but
increased the speed of his descent. With
the added velocity came the nausea. He’d
been falling long enough to be sick once already and he could feel t queasy
roiling in his stomach return. Still, at
least it didn’t burn so much anymore.
He felt bad
for the next person to fall down this tube.
They’d have to slide through his puke.
Then his mind, through a process of deduction, pieced together a
solution to a question that was, he hadn’t realized, nagging him.
Where had the
grease in this tube come from?
The solution
that assailed him involved the breakdown and decomposition of vomit ejected by
previous riders of this dark corkscrew drop.
The greasy smear that would result.
And he was forced to admit that there was a dank stench in this
place. He was also forced to endure
another set of wracking heaves as his stomach added to the lubrication all
around him.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Chapter 179
7.a.ii.
“We can’t just
leave him,” Business Woman shouted.
“He’s gone,
sister. There’s nothing we can do for
him,” said Commander Credit.
“Lift up this
ladder and let’s go down there.”
“Can’t. It’s sealed off. Frozen.
Probably by an electro magnet or something,” the Commander said.
“So we abandon
him?”
Commander
Credit said nothing.
“What about
Fair Wage,” asked Supply. “Do we go on
without him, too? Without trying to
help?”
There was a long
moment in which none of them spoke. Then
Commander Credit said, “They’re both dead.
We press on.”
“We don’t know that,” said Supply.
“Fair Wage could be–”
“Torn in
half,” said Commander Credit. “From the
inside out.”
“But he could–”
“No,” said
Corporate Man. “He’s dead.
Fair Wage is gone.”
“And Franklin ?”
asked Business Woman.
“I don’t think
there’s anything we can do for him now,” said Corporate
Man.
“Come on. We should keep moving.”
He climbed the
metal rung ladder up through the elevator’s ceiling and disappeared into the
dark.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Chapter 178
The Tragic Death
of Corporate Man
a hero for capitalism;
champion of the working class
by Tom Landaluce
Section 7:
Bull/Bear, the Crash,
and the Bowels of the Building.
7.a.i.
When
considering the urban myths attributed to floors thirteen, twenty-six, and
thirty-nine, a special note should be made about the layout of the floors
immediately above and below floor thirty-nine. Specifically floors
thirty-seven, thirty-eight, forty, and forty-one.
Architecturally,
there is no reason for these floors to be devoid of central offices and
corridors. If one could locate accurate
blueprints of the Jacob Center
Tower the impression one might get
is that middle section of each floor is, indeed, accessible. However, if one found themselves exploring,
they would be hard pressed to locate any office space occupying that area or
any hallways traversing this central region.
The phenomenon
is less obvious on the thirty-seventh and forty-first floors as the diameter of
this inaccessible space is much smaller than the floors above and below,
respectively. It has been reported that as
one nears this middle ground one can detect the sound of ringing bells and a
clamor akin to the applause of a sporting event. This has led to a belief that this central
space houses a secret horse track and the bigwigs entertain large groups of
foreign investors at illicit racing events.
Suspiciously absent, though, is the odor of horse manure. This casts the horse track theory into
question amongst those concerned.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Chapter 177
6.z.
“Mexico . Philippines ,”
Senior Executive said into his phone.
“Project Exodus.”
There was a
flurry of motion as wall panels popped away, shifted position, and slammed into
place creating a long, wide corridor.
When the motion ceased a straight hallway, leading to a door with an
exit sign above it, lay before them.
“So… Care to
explain?” asked Franklin Buck.
“Oh it’s quite
simple,” said Senior Executive. “The
more you outsource key positions or departments to alternate work forces or
companies, the more you devalue the primary business. This makes it susceptible to take over by its
own subsidiaries.”
“Meaning?”
“I offered the
maintenance workers higher paying positions with my newly formed cubicle-wall
installation and removal business. Once
I controlled enough of the workforce, I used my contacts to engage the
Outsourcer stand-ins and formed another company employing them. Then, when enough Outsourcers were on board
we… Well let’s just say we terminated our contract with current management and
now hire ourselves out on an independent basis.”
“You know, that’s great,” said Business Woman,
“but do you think, maybe, we can get out of here and the two of you can discuss
business strategies later?”
Senior
Executive bowed slightly and gestured toward the exit.
The Union
did not hurry down the hallway, but they didn’t walk at a leisurely pace
either. As they neared the exit a faint
noise came bleeding through the walls and the floors hummed beneath their
feet. Franklin Buck put his ear to wall
but said nothing of the frothy pig sounds and labored breathing that he heard.
Through the
exit was a small room with a set of elevator doors.
“I’m hoping
this isn’t the elevator that brought us up here,” Supply and Demand said in
unison. “The one that didn’t go any
higher than twenty-six.”
The doors
opened and they crowded inside, each noting the single button on the small
metal panel. The number thirty-nine was
engraved upon its surface with an arrow pointing up.
“That’s a
relief,” said Franklin Buck, stepping up to the panel and pushing the
button. “Though I wouldn’t mind going
back down and getting out–”
But he never
finished his sentence. A trap door
opened up beneath his feet and he fell screaming into a dark shaft.
Corporate Man
dove at the hole, but the trap had snapped shut. He clawed at it ineffectively.
“Push it
again,” he shouted. “We’ve got to get
him out of there.”
Business Woman
pressed the button again and a trap door opened, but not the one in the
floor. This one was in the ceiling. It swung open and smacked Demand in the back
of the head. A metal ladder slid out of
the hole and clanged against the floor, obstructing the downward passage,
sealing them off from the One Hundred Dollar Man.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Chapter 176
6.y.
The Outsourcer
sauntered down the corridor and into a room full of half-walled cubicles. They wouldn’t be tracking him now, and the
ones the greed-creature didn’t dispatch, he would hunt down at his
leisure. But for now, he was going to
take a well earned coffee and cigarette break in his office.
There were two
letters on his office door. M and E. It used to read MINE, but he found the message
came across just as clear this way and only cost half as many letters.
He opened the
door and walked inside, but it wasn’t his office. The room was empty and the walls were
bare. The only distinctive features in
the space were three doors at the opposite side. The Outsourcer swore and turned to storm out but
his office door no longer led into a room of half-walled cubicles. There was a stubby, dead-end hallway there
instead.
“Hey! Assholes!” the Outsourcer shouted. When an attendant did not appear at his
summons he turned toward the three doors and walked to the one on the left.
He took a deep
breath and opened it.
The attention
of more than thirty Chinese Outsourcer stand-ins flashed toward him, their faces
fierce, eyes flared.
“You peckers
better get back to–”
They hissed
and charged at the door. The Outsourcer
slammed it shut and raced to the door on the right. Behind it, poised and ready to pounce, were
fifty of the Outsourcer stand-ins from India .
They surged
forward, screaming.
The Outsourcer
staggered back, groped for the handle of the middle door, and fled inside. An empty, extremely long hallway lay before
him. The Outsourcer ran down it as fast
as his stubby legs would carry him.
He risked a
glance back, positive that a mob would be right behind him, but the corridor
was empty. There wasn’t even a
door. He continued running. At some point he became aware of a
thundering, chortling sound which grew louder the further he ran.
The end of the
hallway was still an agonizingly long way off, but that didn’t prevent the
Outsourcer’s bowel from giving way a little bit when the furious greed-creature
rushed around the corner, howling with rage.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Chapter 175
6.x.
“What was
that?” Franklin Buck asked. They were
approaching a hallway intersection.
Behind them the foul, monstrous Greedy-Wage clattered and smashed walls
and continued shouting and making horribly offensive noises.
“Just a little
something… businessy,” said Senior Executive.
His smart phone trilled again and he answered, “India . What’s the good word? Fantastic.
Stand by for further instructions.”
After several
short conversations, uncountable hallways and cubicles, and an unbearable
symphony of wet howls from the pursuing greed-beast later, Senior Executive
lifted his smart phone to his mouth and said, “Signal hallway maintenance.
Project Greed. Signal India
and China .
Project Outsourcer.”
Senior
Executive stopped running.
“What are you
doing? Go! Go!” shouted Commander Credit.
“It’s all
taken care of,” said Senior Executive.
He turned, facing back the way they had come and the approaching,
flailing creature that Fair Wage had become.
The Greedy-Wage
thing roared and launched into a renewed sprint, slamming the walls with its
moist, mealy appendages.
“Junior! No!” shouted Corporate Man.
Senior
Executive glanced over his shoulder, the greed-beast bearing down on him. He flashed a quizzical grin and said,
“Junior? Really?”
The hallway
between Senior Executive and the Greedy-Wage thing exploded with an inward
shifting of carpeted panels and maintenance workers. The passageway was quickly reassembled
leaving a wall on the far side of Senior Executive. It shuddered from a sudden, violent impact,
but held. A chortling roar erupted from
the other side and a series of pounding, squelching thumps banged futilely and
eventually fell silent.
Another
bellowing roar preceded a thundering, clumping sound as the Greedy-Wage beast
barreled away down a newly configured corridor.
“They’ll keep
him moving for a long while,” Senior Executive said, turning toward the rest of
the Union .
“How did you…”
Franklin Buck started and then fell silent.
“What about
The Outsourcer?” asked Corporate Man.
Senior
Executive shrugged. “India
and China .”
Monday, February 11, 2013
Chapter 174
6.w.
“What’s
happening to him? What’s going on?”
Franklin Buck squeaked.
“Take a
guess. You saw what we saw,” Business
Woman said. “Those things are inside
him. Nothing good’s coming that’s for
sure.”
Fair Wage
threw his head back, his arms shot out from his side, strained and
epileptic. There was a tearing, ripping
sound, like perforated paper, splitting pant seams, and high pressure flatulence.
He screamed.
His body
spasmed, slammed back against a carpeted wall, fingers digging into the
fibers. Fair Wage’s eyes went wide and
pleading, glancing at his teammates, bouncing from face to helpless face.
A soft whimper.
Then a
paralyzed silence.
A gash tore
him open from crotch to throat, splitting his chest wide. A noxious gas and a mist of vaporizing blood
sprayed from the ragged wound. A brown
mass convulsed inside Fair Wage’s torso and then it climbed out roughly leaving
a skin husk in a frayed brown suit on the floor beneath it.
The mass had a
face and terribly greedy eyes. When it
spoke it used the voice of Fair Wage only deeper and choked with gurgles.
“I feel….
Better,” it said.
“Fight it Fair
Wage. You can–”
“Fair Wage?”
the thing growled. “Not hardly. I want more!”
It roared and
in that terrible moment its mass doubled, swelling until its head nearly
touched the ceiling and it’s outstretched arms pressed against the sidewalls.
Corporate Man
stood his ground and yelled, “You’re the best of us Fair Wage. The honest one. The–”
A squelchy,
slapping thud snapped through the corridor as a big messy greed-infected fist
slammed into Corporate Man, hurtling him down the long hallway where he nearly
collided with Franklin Buck.
Franklin Buck,
not needing any sort of physical prompting, had turned and run at the moment
the Greedy-Wage first chortled its initial sentence. The rest of the Union adopted The One Hundred
Dollar Man’s tactic and broke into a sprint in an effort to catch up to Franklin,
though their main goal was undoubtedly to increase their market share in
distance from the horrible greed-thing.
They scooped
up Corporate Man in mid-stride.
The
Greedy-Wage chased after them, howling and snarling its belchy-farty sounds and
threats.
“Franklin !”
Business Woman yelled as they closed the gap on him. “Get back there and stop that thing with your
powerful pennies.”
“Screw you!” Franklin
called back without actually turning around.
“I don’t see you doing a whole lot.
Any of you. I mean what the
hell? We’re economic superheroes. Why are we just running around chasing and
fighting instead of doing something businessy?”
“Business
isn’t all about copper coinage,” said Senior Executive as they caught up with Franklin . They raced around a two tight corners,
through a small set of cubicles, and down another hallway.
“Well, what
else is it then?” Franklin Buck asked, panting.
“Oh there are
all kinds of hostile maneuvers and power plays.”
“Like
retreat,” said Business Woman.
“When it’s
tactically advantageous,” said Corporate Man. His breathing was rough, but his speed hadn’t
suffered from his encounter.
“Yes. And there’s negotiation, acquisition, merger,
and–” Senior Executive said but was cut short by a loud trilling breet from his
smart phone.
“Mexico . Are we go?” he said into the device. After a moment he added, “Good. Stand by for instructions.”
Friday, February 8, 2013
Chapter 173
6.v.
He wasn’t
quite sure if he could hear the sound through the microphones of his
surveillance system or if his mind simply imagined it from the reactions of all
the people on his monitor screen. It
didn’t matter. The Big Bossman had heard
that sound before and understood what it meant and the utter terror it
inflicted on those in the vicinity.
And he smiled.
The next part
would be entertaining, he was sure. Lots
of panicked fleeing and property damage.
The inevitable loss of life; perhaps even some limbs.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Chapter 172
6.u.
“Let’s try
something different this time,” said Commander Credit. How about we all go on the offensive? Not
just me.”
His comment
was met with looks of bitter assent and the Union fanned
out into practiced positioning, ready to engage preplanned maneuvers.
Franklin Buck
had to fake it.
Commander
Credit pulled open the panel and Corporate Man lunged through the opening. But there was no one behind the wall. Business Woman and Senior Executive spun into
defensive postures, facing empty hallways, expecting panels to shift and
Outsourcer proxies to pour in.
“I don’t get
it,” said Commander Credit. According to
this reading, we’re right on top of him.”
There was a
subtle shift in the stance of each Union member. Their attention turned to the ground beneath
Commander Credit’s feet.
No one
breathed.
They shifted,
ninja-like and in unison, positioning themselves around Commander Credit. Corporate Man and Business Woman leaned down
and carefully felt for a trap door; a secret panel.
Senior
Executive and Fair Wage arranged themselves behind Business Woman. Supply and Demand acted as backup for Corporate
Man.
Franklin Buck instinctively took up the covering position for Commander
Credit in case the attack came there and felt proud of himself for doing so.
Corporate Man
found a seam in the industrial carpeting and mouthed a countdown to Business
Woman. On three he tore the carpeting
away and Business Woman lurched forward, fists cocked.
But there was
only sub-floor and glue remnants beneath the carpet.
“Jesus you
guys,” said Franklin Buck. “Made my ass all
clenchy with that–”
The ceiling
panel above Commander Credit shattered and The Outsourcer dropped onto the
shoulder of the cybernetic arm, hammering with fists and feet. He snatched the greed-gun, leapt onto Senior
Executive, delivering a kick to Business Woman on the way. He chopped Senior Executive on the neck while
thrusting a foot into Corporate Man’s chest, then dove onto Fair Wage, smacking
both Supply and Demand while in mid air.
The Outsourcer
wrapped his legs around Fair Wage’s throat and shouted, “Don’t move or I’ll
snap his neck.”
The Union
froze.
Cautiously,
The Outsourcer examined the greed-gun, tightening his choke hold when Fair Wage
tried to move. Then he sniffed the
air. His eyes pinched with a sudden
realization and he snuffled the greed-gun, an enthusiastic chortle escaping his
throat.
“I know what
this is,” he said in an oily voice.
Fair Wage
groped at the legs wrapped around his neck.
The Outsourcers nonchalantly reached down and flicked Fair Wage’s nose.
“I know what’s
in here,” he said and slammed his fist into the toy gun.
Corporate Man
and Business Woman surged forward but The Outsourcer tightened his leg-grip and
hissed, “Back! Back!”
The small,
runty man fished the greed chunks out of the ruined toy gun and held them like
a fistful of dirty dollars.
“I wondered
what happened to him,” said The Outsourcer, jostling the pieces as if
estimating their weight. “Do any of you
truly comprehend what it is that you’ve brought here?”
The Outsourcer
unclamped his legs and yanked on Fair Wage’s hair. The old man screamed but his call was
silenced. The Outsourcer forced the
remnants of The Greed into Fair Wage’s mouth.
It was like
cookie dough mixed with hair and mashed up spaghetti squash. It tasted like filthy pinched pennies and the
greasy collar sweat of unscrupulous financiers. It stank of exploitation and cow manure.
A dozen
cubicle walls flew open and a score of Outsourcer stand-ins rushed into the
corridor slapping and hissing. The
ensuing struggle between the Union and the Outsourcers
was violent and brief. This was not
because one side decisively triumphed over the other, it was because the fight
was merely a diversion set up to grant the actual Outsourcer his escape. The altercation was cut short when a near
seismic gurgling noise erupted somewhere deep within the body of Fair Wage.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Chapter 171
6.t.
His face felt
like rising bread dough and his nose pulsed with an agonizing pain. He knew he’d get those raccoon-eye bruises
from this. And he knew how pathetic he’d
look. Some people could pull off that
battered, I’m-a-bad-ass, you-should-see-the-other-guy look, but he wasn’t one
of them. It would be awhile before he
could score chicks again.
That
freak. That credit card freak had known
he was there. Tracking him somehow. The Outsourcer tried to review the sequence
of events, but his puffy, marshmallow consciousness could only recall
starbursts of pain.
“This
way. Down this way,” a familiar voice
came from someone. The Outsourcer peered through a seam in the cubicle
paneling. The Union ,
and that irritating credit card guy, were striding up the hallway on the other
side of the wall. Coming right toward
him. There was some sort of gun in the
credit guy’s hand. A yellow light on the
gun blinked repeated. As they came
closer a red light ignited accusingly.
The
Outsourcer’s mood flared, matching the fiery red of that damnable flashing
light.
They were tracking him.
The bastards.
That was
cheating!
Friday, February 1, 2013
Chapter 170
6.s.
“Down this
way. Hurry!” Commander Credit said, holding
the greed-gun apparatus out in front of him.
He and the rest of the Union rounded a corner and
were halfway down the hall when the Commander stopped. He swiveled to his left.
“Look! Down there,” said Franklin Buck, pointing to
the end of the hall and the small, runty man who stood there.
“After him,”
Corporate Man shouted, but Commander Credit held his hand out and stopped
him. Then he yanked a panel off the wall
nearest him. A small, runty man with a
thin moustache was standing on the other side.
He hissed and three similar runty men with, more or less, similar
moustaches stood behind him and echoed the hiss. They bolted like frightened deer, scattering
down a dimly lit hallway, banking into separate side corridors.
The Union
rushed after them.
“Should we split
up and take them?” Senior asked.
“No,” said
Corporate Man. “Keep us on the real one Commander.”
Around the
next corner they saw The Outsourcer disappear into a ventilation duct. A group of
maintenance workers moved a section of cubicle paneling across the corridor,
blocking the way. Simultaneously, two
sections were pulled away and secured in different positions creating new
passages going in opposite directions.
“Which way?”
shouted Corporate Man.
Commander
Credit stopped to consult the greed-gun.
“Neither,” he
said. Then he strode up to a section of
wall and tried to yank it free. It
didn’t budge, so he set about dismantling it with tools from his cybernetic
arm. Senior Executive approached the
remaining maintenance workers and began questioning them.
“Hurry. Hurry,” said Franklin Buck.
“You want to
do this, Dollar Boy?” Commander Credit said as he popped the section of wall
free. A hand slapped him across the face. A dozen runty men hissed and then bolted
away, bounding down the newly opened corridor.
“Little shits,” Commander Credit yelled,
charging after them.
The rest of
the Union poured into this new section of darkened
passageways. The scurrying, runty-men
disappeared behind vents, panels, and other trap doors embedded in the pseudo
walls.
The Union
continued the chase and soon arrived at a junction of five passages. Runty men stood at the far end of each hallway. Middle finger raised.
Carpeted
panels swung in and out from various positions along each corridor, concealing each
of the five Outsourcer men.
“They just
flipped us off,” said Franklin Buck.
Commander
Credit checked the greed-gun. His face
pinched and he tapped the side of the apparatus. Then her turned around and said, “Back this
way.”
More panels
swung in and out of the walls and runty men crisscrossed the corridor space,
waving obscene gestures, before disappearing out of sight again.
Commander
Credit slumped against a wall and shook his head.
“I don’t get
it,” he said. “My readings must be
off. The Outsourcer isn’t showing up
anywhere. I don’t know what to–”
But he didn’t
finish. Instead he thrust all his weight
into the wall paneling behind him. It
gave way, slamming into the empty space beyond, landing on something small and
hard.
There was a
low grunt, followed by a yowling howl.
Commander Credit lifted up the section of wall. A dazed runty man lie beneath it. Commander Credit grabbed The Outsourcer by
the collar and yanked him to his feet. Atthe
same time the Commander’s snapped his torso forward, his head delivering a nose
crushing butt.
The Outsourcer
fell to the floor, spurts of blood geysering from his damaged nasal
cavities. The walls around the bleeding
man opened up and a troupe of runty men bounced into the corridor. Two of them swept up The Outsourcer while the
rest flung themselves at Commander Credit.
The first
couple of attackers suffered a great deal under the ferocity of the Commander’s
defenses, but soon their numbers drove him backward, through the opening in the
wall, and into the hallway where the rest of the Union
still waited.
The runty men
slid the caved in panel back into place and the only sound the Union
could hear through the restored wall was that of scuffling feet and half-hearted
expletives delivered through a collapsed nasal structure.
“Well, open it
back up,” said Business Woman.
“Won’t help,”
said Commander Credit. He held up the greed-gun. Indicator lights were in the green
again. “They’ll have already
reconfigured the corridor and The Outsourcer won’t even be in that direction.”
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