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.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
The Crash pulled itself upward, its head and back still dangling over the trench, legs tightening around the limp form of Commander Credit. After it maneuvered itself onto the ledge and sat up, The Crash pulled the little man from between its legs and stood, leaning on its hand for balance; its hand leaning on Commander Credit for emphasis.
The hulking behemoth growled and picked up the limp man. It cocked its head and studied the small thing. It smelled him. Then, quite gingerly, a swollen purple tongue, cobalt veins bulging on the underside, poked out form its cracked lips and touched the unconscious man’s cheek. The Crash grinned. Somewhere in its tiny, primitive, reptilian brain a connection was made.
It didn’t recognize or even think in terms of the numerical date, but felt a general awareness of events from that era. The Crash gripped Commander Credit’s good arm between its huge finger and thumb. It adjusted its other hand, positioning the thumb beneath the pit of the cybernetic arm with massive index finger on the shoulder and neck of the opposite side; the rest of its fingers gripping the ribs below.
The Crash started pulling.
Muscle fibers tore.
“Sorry to interrupt your Black Monday, but…” Senior Executive shoved his smart phone into the Crash’s face. Light blared from the screen, blue-white and hot. The Crash’s eyes shriveled, pupils going as white as hard boiled eggs.
The Crash let go of Commander Credit’s cybernetic arm and covered its eyes. It swatted at the blinding, burning light with the limp body still gripped in its other hand. Senior Executive jumped back, dodging with ease. The Crash roared and swung Commander Credit around in flailing, desperate arcs. It shuffled its feet, determining the orientation of the maze ledge, and hurled Commander Credit along the wall’s path directly at Senior Executive.
“My portfolio will protect me,” Senior Executive called out, swiping his finger across the phone’s touch screen. A series of charts, graphs, account information, and other investment data opened up and out of the device, one on top of the other, crystalline and impossibly fast until a full body-sized, blue-light shield, blazed from the phone.
Senior Executive blocked the human projectile that was Commander Credit, the impact of the body thrumming like high tension cables against the blazing shield. Caught in the electric hum the Commander slid to Senior Executive’s feet and slumped across the ledge. Corporate Man jumped down from above, necktie fluttering behind him, and gathered up Commander Credit in his arms.
“It seems as though our stocks are rising, despite your efforts,” Corporate Man shouted at The Crash. “With our careful investment strategy focusing on recession proof commodities we–”
But he was drown out by a flesh quivering bellow as The Crash, blind and enraged, charged toward them on the narrow ledge.