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.
Friday, May 17, 2013
The second level of the pyramid structure was significantly narrower than the first. The path hugged the inner wall and a rich velvet rope separated the walkway from the remaining space. In that remaining space, standing like androids, were rows and rows of men and women in expensive business attire. Next to each man and woman was a small wheeled cart. It held various electronic equipment and was laden with dials and blinking lights. Wires sprouted from these portable diagnostic machines and connected with the men and women somewhere around back.
“These are the most advanced, state of the art, high level CEOs in existence,” said General Apathy. “The rope is for your protection. Do not cross it, please.”
“Why?” asked Franklin Buck. “What happens?”
General Apathy sighed and said, “Yes. It’d be too much to ask you to just take my word on the subject. If you cross over, the CEOs will take that as an invitation to approach and sell you something. They will sell you until your ears bleed. Literally.”
There was a strange hum that resonated from the CEOs. Sort of like a beehive, a dentist drill, and a live microphone all luxuriating in a post coital spoon.
When they rounded the corner of the pyramid they were startled by a freestanding CEO. He was milling around by the velvet rope, almost halfway down the length of the path.
“Apparently we have a malfunctioning unit,” said General Apathy. “It would be best if you avoided eye contact and simply ignored him.”
As they approached, the CEO unit looked up and appeared pleasantly surprised. He said, “Hey. Any of you guys from the Mind Hive?”
Senior Executive’s jaw flexed. He stopped walking, but remained just out of the CEO’s reach.
“Oh, well don’t listen to me or anything, Junior,” said General Apathy, not turning back. “I wouldn’t know anything. Better to dismiss what I say.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’ve got this one,” said Business Woman. She slapped the CEO across the face.
“Care about the company and the company will take care of you,” the CEO said, his face flinching from a nervous eye tick.
“Try it. You’ll feel better,” said Business Woman.
Senior Executive slapped the CEO.
“Listen. I’ve got an idea that’s basically a license to print money,” the CEO said, leaning forward, whispering in a rushed hush. “Do you own a clinic?”
Senior Executive’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“A clinic, man. A place to treat sick people.”
“Well… get one. Then here’s what you do. Start running prostitutes as a side business. Encourage unprotected sex to boost business for the clinic. You with me so far?” the CEO said.
“You’re sick,” said Senior Executive. He turned to walk away and the CEO grabbed his arm.
“Don’t! You’ll be walking away from a fortune,” said the CEO.
Senior Executive yanked his arm free and said, “What? Treating STDs. The people frequenting your prostitutes won’t be from the same area so your clinic wouldn’t see the benefit.”
“You’re missing the point,” said the CEO. “You develop a strain of herpes which has as its primary side effect, nymphomania. Inject this super-herpes into your prostitutes. This has a two fold effect. It increases the frequency of the visits from your customers and spreads the disease much quicker. Then, having synthesized a treatment for your super-herpes, your clinic will be the only one armed with the necessary medications for the affliction. You patent the new herpes gene and start charging fees to all those people whose body it infects. If they don’t pay, you sue them for patent infringement, especially if they transmit it to someone else.”
A look of further disgust came over Senior Executive.
“Interesting,” said General Apathy. He tilted his head towards the militaryesque decorations on his chest. “Cancel tech squad order for CEO 5318008. Unit operations appear stable, possibly at peak. Prepare a field kit and place according to need. Recommendations include medical field and/or sex trade.”
He turned, glanced at the
Union, nodded, and they continued their