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, August 11, 2014
Enslaved by the Bonus Whores:
A Corporate Man Adventure Serial
The events masterfully described in the following story are entirely fictitious and should in no way be attributed to, or suspected to be about, any person or persons living or dead. Any resemblance to real life persons, places, or things should be considered entirely coincidental. The following story concerns the events of an economically themed superhero. That should have been your first clue as to the fictionality of its nature. The use of the word fictionality should be further evidence of the madeupedness of the following. However, if you should feel that your actions and or attitudes align with some of the more deplorable characters described in the following story, especially where business practices are concerned, perhaps it is time to reevaluate yourself and consider making a few changes. Just what sort of horrible person are you anyway?
He stumbled into his office that night, tired, and more than a little sore. The case of the Corporate Mind Hive had ended badly and all he wanted was a hot meal and some sleep. He would get neither.
There was a woman at his desk, sitting in the dark, back-lit by the street lamp outside. Her body silhouetted against the horizontal blinds, her hair an orange volcano pouring down her shoulders.
“This is a little cliché isn’t it?” he said, walking past the desk toward the small refrigerator in the corner. There was no beer in the fridge. There should be beer, he thought, if only to maintain the overused formula of this particular type of meeting. But he didn’t like beer. He was a juice man. And besides, you weren’t supposed to drink at the office these days and he was always working. He was the epitome of an office worker.
The business executive.
“Your secretary told me you needed a break from corporate intrigue and thought a little economic mystery might help,” she said.
He flipped on the lights.
“Well, it won’t,” he said lifting a carton of milk from the refrigerator. “What I need is a break. Period. By law I am entitled to those.”
“Every couple of hours or so, I am told.”
Behind thick, black-rim glasses, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. He was on the verge of saying something, but after a long moment he simply turned, opened a cupboard door, fished out bowl, set it on the narrow counter of the impossibly small kitchenette, opened another cupboard door, and grabbed a box of cereal. Cap’Tal Gains. A high fiber, multigrain cereal, in a variety of fun, currency shapes. On the box an explosive, text-filled, star shape advertised, “Look inside for a chance to win a real gold bar!”
He shook the cereal into the bowl. A mix of shapes – circular, rectangular and dollar-signed – fell in a cascade of wholesome browns ranging from tan to umber. He poured milk over the cereal and then hunted around for a spoon. Not just any spoon. The spoon. The silver spoon. It was difficult amongst the stainless steel flatware but he found it. He took a bite and crunched noisily through the first mouthful.
Then he took another.
“Alright,” he said once that second bite was down, “what can I do for you?”
The woman took a deep breath, tears wet her eyes, and she began.