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.
Monday, March 25, 2013
walked through the set of double doors into a room the size of an arena. It was bustling with people in suits, runners
in collared shirts, and polo-clad coffee fetchers. Everyone made complex hand signals at
everyone else. A smell, covetous and
sweaty, like a locker room papered with decommissioned dollar bills, permeated
the space. The noise was overpowering, like
the engines of a private jet to the basic rights of the needy.
“Ah… This is where it all goes down,” said Bull Market.
He led them through the sea of people to a small platformed area sectioned off with velvet ropes. Here were gathered those whose previous day’s trading had garnered acclaim and this slightly elevated place of honor was their reward.
The arena space was so massive that more than one member of the
wondered how a place with ceiling so high could fit on one floor. Even if that floor was the equivalent of
three floors combined. Giant
tele-screens hung from huge steel rafters and electronic ticker displays scrolled
in every direction the eye could possibly look.
“When’s the big show start?” asked Business Woman.
“In a couple of minutes,” said Bull Market. “Apparently, they’ve got a guest speaker coming in who’ll kick things off today. Rumor has it that it’s the President.”
“Barack knows about this place?” Corporate Man.
“How could he not?” said Bull Market. “This place is the economy.”
There was an eruption of cheers and applause which replaced the already roaring sound in the arena. At the far end of the arena was a tall stage with huge speakers flanking either side. The lights dimmed and a spotlight flashed upon a lone figure as he walked toward center stage. He wore a large brown Stetson hat, spurred cowboy boots, and a man-sized disposable diaper.
“Oh god,” said Bull Market. “Not him. Not him!”
“What? Who is it?” asked
“Ah shit,” said Business Woman. “That’s W.”
“As in George W? asked
“Yep,” Business Woman said, her head shaking instead of nodding.
Bull Market scratched nervously at his neck. And then his forearm. And then his scalp.
“This will not end well,” he said.