A white
powder, tinted a slight shade of dirty, desirous green, disappeared up the nose
of man in a suit so expensive that its cost would easily match the monthly
income of all of the man’s subordinates.
“Tear it
up!” another similarly dressed man shouted.
A roar of approval from all the other well-attired executives filled the
room. One woman slid a needle into her arm
and injected a heavy dose of Bonus. She
slumped in her chair and shuddered; bass-heavy trance music pulsed from
top-of-the-line speakers. Two men were
dancing on the conference table in front of her. One could not perceive the room and thought
he was dancing in a shower of gold. The
second man was grinding on the first man’s leg in a way that was a little bit
professional stripper, and a whole lot labrador retriever.
There were stacks of cash everywhere, golden
plates piled with powder, and ampoules of Bonus filled Dublin Crystal buckets.
No one
heard the metallic click as a key unlocked the door, but when it opened they
all turned to holler a greeting to Corporate Whore and her new recruit, Donald
Jackson.
It took a
few moments for those in the room to realize that two men had walked in. The less inebriated were shocked to see that
one of these men was Jack. That he was among
them, strolling around, and all this Bonus was lying out. The others giggled and thought it was extremely
cool of Hallucination Jack to join the party.
He really was the best, wasn’t he?
Jack shook
his head.
Half the
party trembled. The others thought that
cool guy Jack was doing some sort of dance.
Jack turned
and said, “Lock the door.”
The man
that had come in with Jack did as he was asked.
“Good idea,
Jack,” one of the overly inebriated men said.
“Keep out all the riff-raff. So
they can’t get to our Bonus.”
“Everyone,
please take a seat,” Jack said.
Those
furthest from sobriety eagerly sat. Not
all of these individuals believed that Jack was going to show them a really
trippy video, but a majority of them did.
Those who had yet to overindulge, and those already settling back into
normal mind space, took their seats in terror.
“Thank you.
I hope you don’t mind this little interruption, but I felt that an intercession
was vital to the company’s future. This is my new associate,” Jack said,
gesturing toward the man he’d come in with.
“He’s called Junior Executive.”
Junior
Executive nodded toward the conference table.
“Hey! That was my promotion! Did you hire outside the company?” a twitchy
executive said. Jack ignored him and
seconds later the twitchy man was distracted by his own fingers.
“Junior
helped me set this up,” Jack continued.
“The special chairs…” Restraints snapped into place on the armrests of
all the chairs, locking the executives to their seats. “The reinforced doors and windows that will
prevent your escape. The cameras, hidden
in the walls to document everything that goes on in this room for the next
several days.”
Shrieks
escaped the throats of those sober enough to comprehend Jack’s words. Those who remained silent wondered when Jack
was gonna start the movie already.
“You can’t
do this!” a suit shouted.
“Why not?”
“It’s… It’s
illegal.”
Other suits
backed up the first. “Yeah. Against the law, Jack.”
“And
unfair!”
Jack
shrugged and said, “Should the authorities visit this room, whom do you think
they’d accuse of wrong doing?”
“We did
nothing wrong.”
“Really? All these drugs, all this cash?”
“All we did
was make money,” one of them said.
“Yeah,” chimed
another. “Like good Americans.”
“You made
money by exploiting your subordinates,” Junior Executive said.
“That’s
what bosses do. They leverage those
beneath them for financial gain.”
“No,” said
Jack. “That’s what short sighted money grubbers do. Any manager or executive worth anything takes
care of his or her workers. Treats them
well, helps them succeed. Those workers
will come to the job motivated. You
idiots are asking them to do extra work with no additional compensation.”
“You make
their work-lives worse,” said Junior Executive.
“Who would possibly be motivated to work harder if the only reward was
more work? Upper management reaps the
benefits of the extra effort in the form of big fat bonuses. Only you bonus junkies could possibly believe
that anyone would want to work harder so you could accumulate more.”
“That’s
just what happens when companies get big,” one of them said.
Jack shook
his head, “No. It happens because shitbags like you get greedy.”
“Hey, if it’s
possible, then you should do it. Nothing
wrong with making big money.”
“You’re
almost right,” said Jack. “I’m a very
wealthy man. I made, and still make, an
obscene amount of money. But I don’t
have to be subhuman to do it. There’s a
point where you do not need any more money.
And far beyond that is a point where it’s simply monstrous to continue
to horde wealth while others are scraping by.
While people are sick, and starving, and dying.”
“It’s not
our fault that some people choose to be poor.”
“Choose?”
Junior Executive said. “You think they
chose to have people like you steal money from them? For big businesses to buy politicians and get
laws passed that further benefit the wealthy?”
“Not my
fault if they aren’t smart enough to earn money. That they keep popping out kids and smoking
crack.”
Jack
smiled. “You think it’s easy to just
pull yourself out of squalor? Simply get
yourself educated when you come from nothing?
To kick a habit and rebuild your life without anyone to help you?”
Up until
the final sentence, the seated executives were nodding their heads. But this last question rang a little
differently in their ears. Perhaps it
was the piles of highly addictive powder, or the ampoules of habit forming
narcotics, or that earlier mention of cameras in the walls. Whatever it was, things began to click into
place for most of the men and women strapped to the chairs.
Jack nodded
at Junior Executive. Junior walked to
the door, unlocked it, and held it open.
“There’s a
sink in here,” said Jack. “So you won’t
die of dehydration. Unfortunately I can
make no assurances, especially with a crop of individuals such as yourselves,
that you will all survive what is to come.
For those of you who do make it through, you will have a chance to
rebuild your lives. You will be given
new identities. Criminal backgrounds,
low credit scores, poor work histories. Then
you’ll see how easy it is to make something of yourself when the cards are
stacked against you.”
Jack turned
and walked out of the room. Junior
Executive followed.
All exits
were then barricaded and the restraints on the chairs released.
It took
some time for the howling to begin.
It took
even longer for it to stop.