Chapter 119

4.h.

“But sir, there was gunfire,” the security officer said, telephone receiver in one hand, the other one pressing the earpiece of his headset closer as though he was having difficulty understanding the noises coming through it and they might possibly orientate themselves to something more comprehensive if he just pushed hard enough.

“No sir.  Yes.  Yes.  Yeah I know I don’t own the building but– 

“That’s not–

“Sir–

“I–

“I–

“That’s not–

“That’s for the police to decide, sir.”

At this point the security officer pulled the earpiece away from his head.  A garbled string of very irate words roared our, small and metallic.

“No sir, I wasn’t threatening–

“Yes I under–

“I–

“Yes.  Yes.

“I know that’s why you get the big bucks, sir.

“Fine.

“Yes.

“I will, sir.

“Thank you, sir.”

Chapter 118

4.g.

Donkey charged forward and punched Demand in the back of the neck.  The man in the dark purple suit and mauve necktie crumpled and released his grip on the bossman’s wrist.  Supply tightened her hold on the bossman’s other arm, jerked him in front of her, and used him as a shield against Donkey’s attack.  Donkey used the bossman as a punching bag.  He wondered vaguely who it was that he was hitting and why a member of the Union would stoop to using a human shield.  Mostly, he was reveling in the tortured sounds the man made when he worked the body instead of the face.

Senior Executive reached into the inner pockets of his grey suit and rapidly flung a series of business cards at Donkey.  They flew like ninja stars and stung with all the power of a well designed business tool.  The aim was precise, connecting with pressure points and nerve clusters.  Donkey jerked and spasmed.  Supply whipped the bossman around, leveling Donkey with her improvised administrative bludgeon.  The bossman’s howls turned to gasping seal barks.  Supply dropped him and he rolled away, unsure of which injury to grope at first.  Supply then brought a hammering fist down on Donkey, dropping him like a freight container of weighty overstock.

The sound that popped from Donkey’s throat was indeed something that real braying jackasses have made before, though only in severe circumstances.

“Now that’s was a real ass sounds–” The Elephant grunted and clutched his balls.  When he tried to push himself up but Business Woman landed a knee in the small of his back.  She struggled to pin him, twisting his arm until his wrist touched his shoulder blades.

“You two better explain,” Corporate Man started, but the report of a large caliber handgun exploded through the lobby.

The woman with more teeth than the average person advanced on Corporate Man, firing shot after shot from her gleaming, silver revolvers.  The bullets made strange, high-pitched, zipping sounds as the screamed from the barrels. 

A vase behind Corporate Man shattered.  A tile on the floor beside him blew apart.  Another bullet ripped through The Elephant’s shoulder and another took out his knee.  The bossman caught a round in his chest, then his inner thigh, then his cheek.  A lamp exploded near Franklin Buck and Donkey grunted as a slug pierced his gut.

The woman with more teeth than the average person stopped, fifteen feet from Corporate Man, and said, “I know what you’re thinking.  Did she fire six shots or only five?  In all the excitement I–”

“Nine,” Corporate Man said.  “You have two guns.”

The woman with more teeth than the average person looked at her guns, puzzled.

“And you’re misquoting,” said Business Woman.  “It goes–”

“Who cares how it goes!  Somebody take her out!” Franklin Buck screamed from behind the heavy lobby furniture thirty yards away.

Senior Executive stepped forward, chopped her wrists, and knocked the guns to the floor.  He narrowed his eyes and said, “I remember you.  I never forget a cattle prod.”

The woman with more teeth than the average person howled with rage and kicked at him.  Senior Executive dodged the kick, elbowed her in the stomach.  As she doubled over, Business Woman brought a knee up into her toothsome face.  A tinkling sound danced across the glossy tiles as the woman with more teeth than the average person fell back and found herself in a familiar, unconscious state.

Chapter 117

4.f.

The woman with more teeth than the average person rushed up the steps toward the doors of The Jacob Center Tower.  She had seen Corporate Man going into the building from her seat on the bus.  It had taken a great deal of floundering hysterics to get the bus driver to stop, her swollen mouth hindering communication.  That they were not at a prescheduled bus stop location added to the difficulty.

Luckily, the bus driver put on the brakes and opened the door before she had to jam her gun in his face.

When she got to the door she peered in through the glass just in time to see a sweaty, fat man with rolled up shirt sleeves and slicked down hair lunge at Corporate Man.  The woman in the dark blue suit, standing next to Corporate Man, dipped low, her face almost touching the ground, her leg fully extended in the opposite direction, her foot catching the lunging fat man in his sack of peanuts.

The woman with more teeth than the average person crept into the building.  Bellows from the fat man echoed through the lobby.  She tried to suppress a grin.  The big man hit the polished lobby floor with a meaty slap.  Corporate Man and the woman in blue fanned out, signaling to the others who were standing nearby.  The woman with more teeth than the average person then noticed a woman in a mauve skirt and jacket with a dark purple blouse gripping the wrist of a haggard looking man.  The woman with more teeth than the average person recognized this man.  She’d met him at corporate functions.  He was the head of the Northside branch of IBC Inc.

Others in various colored suits sprang into action when the timid man with the royal blue necktie shouted something about being sorry, that they’d gotten to him first, and donkey punch.

Chapter 116

4.e.

“My old friends.  My brothers and sisters in arms.  It is so good to see you,” The Elephant said, his hands wringing together in greedy, sausage sweat undulations.

“The Elephant!” Corporate Man called out in an exuberant whisper.  “I didn’t think you got the alert.  I’m so glad you made it.”

“The… alert… Yes, well it’s good to be needed.”

“How did you know we were coming here?” asked Business Woman, her hands on her hips.

“Well it’s rather complicated,” said The Elephant.

“Why don’t you explain it to–”

“Donkey!” Corporate Man gleefully whisper-shouted as Donkey drifted toward the group.  “This is most fortunate.  Did you two come together?”

Donkey’s face wrinkled into a very sour expression.  “Him?  No thank you.  In fact, I was–”

“Doesn’t matter.  I’m glad to see you both,” Corporate Man said.  “And we could use the additional man power.”

Business Woman scowled and grabbed Corporate Man’s arm.  When she spoke her voice was low and cold and hissing.  “Are you out of your mind?  These two fools don’t show up at The Office but they turn up here?  Like everyone knows this is the place the bastards we’re looking for are holed up?  It’s fishy.”

Corporate Man bit his lip, the joy falling from his face.  He turned toward The Elephant and took a long, slow, deep breath before he spoke.  “Members of the Union.  I would like to apologize for my momentary loss of practical perspective.  It was a misjudgment on my part at seeing two old colleagues of whom I’d previously thought lost to us.  Now, let’s proceed with professionalism and retain a cordial demeanor as we examine the situation.  We’ve established that our old acquaintances arrived at this particular location separately from us and independent of our information.  So… friends… please explain.”

The Elephant grinned.  “Thank you Corporate Man.  Old friends.  I appreciate the need for caution in this matter and assure you that my presence at this site of business and commerce is in keeping with strict adherence to the principles set for by myself and those I represent and I should–”

“He’s not saying anything,” Donkey said.  “He’s just trying to talk around the subject.  God!  So typical!”

“Really?  Well then, in the interest of fair play,” The Elephant said, “I would like to offer my counterpart an opportunity to illuminate those present as to his position in this matter.  Donkey?”

Donkey stood, mouth agape, not moving a muscle except for his eyes, which darted back and forth between his former compatriots.

“Well… I, I, I, I–”

“Come now Donkey, that’s not a proper bray, is it?” The Elephant said.  His voice was a cocktail of venom and melted lard.

“Just shut your mouth you… bureaucrat,” Donkey said.

“Oh Donkey, with retorts like that perhaps you should apply that gag order to yourself,” said The Elephant.  Donkey huffed and readied himself to spit out something barbed and juvenile but The Elephant waved him off dismissively and continued, “What my lesser counterpart is trying to say is that in the interest of this nation, or more succinctly this nation’s interests, we have been approached by the powers that be and formerly requested to attend to a growing situation that seems likely to threaten those previously mentioned interests and negatively impact the economic prosperity of those in power.”

“They’ve been compromised,” Corporate Man said, taking a step back and assuming a defensive stance.

“Well compensated would probably describe it more precisely.  Though, when I consider the situation, I doubt if Donkey had the presence of mind to negotiate for financial benefits, and simply rolled over when confronted.”

“Donkey, tell me this isn’t true,” Business Woman said as she backed toward Corporate Man.

Donkey’s head drooped and he exhaled dramatically.  “They didn’t tell me it would be like this,” he said, “didn’t say he was going to be involved.”

“Oh my poor, pathetic little burro-buddy, don’t feign naiveté.  You crossed a line.  Revel in it,” The Elephant said, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his cuffs.  “Anyway, this is getting all too boring,” he continued, rolling up his sleeves, “and I can’t believe I’m the one who’s pressing for the physical exertion but… well there you have it.”

The Elephant sprang toward Corporate Man, calling out his pachyderm punch.

Chapter 115

4.d.

“Oh god.  Here they come,” Donkey muttered to himself.  He sat on a couch in the Jacob Center Tower lobby, positioned so he could monitor both entrances.  The lobby, being situated at one of the building’s four corners, had two doorways at right angles to each other.

His underarms were swampy and his palms were clammy.  Why was he doing this?  Were the imminent gains so beneficial that loyalties to his friends, pledges taken, and oaths of economy sworn, had become valueless?  Or was he just a big pussy cowering under the might of this huge corporation?

It will be worth it he told himself.  To finally make some strides, build a foundation for future reform, be at the helm of recovery, strengthen his position in the party.  To best that goddamned pachyderm.

The Elephant.

That gigantic prick of a man had undermined Donkey far too often.  That egotistical, callous lump of fat.  That money glutton.  Once this deed was done then Donkey would have the upper hand and–

Oh god no.  What was he doing here?  This wasn’t part of the plan.

Across the lobby The Elephant struggled to heft his bulk from his seat.  He adjusted his belt somewhere beneath his swollen sagging belly and lumbered toward Corporate Man and the rest of the Union.

Chapter 114

4.c.

“I can’t believe we’re just walking in,” said Business Woman.

“I’m tired of the games.  And besides, not only is this the simplest, most expedient solution, but it’s also the most unexpected,” Corporate Man said.

“Is that because we just performed similar maneuvers at their north side office and they wouldn’t expect us to try it twice in one day?” Business Woman asked. 

Corporate Man did not reply.

Business Woman shook her head and said, “These are the same people that left you mindless and pooping yourself in a hospital for a decade.”

“A decade?” Franklin Buck asked.  “And wait, wasn’t his awakening a recent thing?  How are you even walking?  Your legs should be atrophied and you–”

“Well put, Business Woman,” Corporate Man said quickly, raising his voice.  “That they did.  And I would like some vengeance for that, but this is less about me and more about saving the economy.  Let’s go.”

They climbed out of the conveniently acquired van and marched across Jacob Center Plaza toward the tower.  Supply and Demand stood on either side of the bossman, each gripping one of his wrists.  Senior Executive and Fair Wage followed closely behind.  Franklin Buck the Dollar Man and Business Woman flanked Corporate Man who was at the lead.

Franklin Buck felt a bit queasy being in such company.  He wondered if he had what it took to stand with heroes like these.  Heroes he’d idolized as a kid.  He wondered if his father would have been proud.  He wondered who they would cast as him if they ever made a movie about these events.  And then he pictured them all walking together toward the tower, up against the mighty corporate conglomerate, odds stacked against them.

This would be shot in slow motion.  He was quite certain of that.  And in the movie there would be a strong breeze and, Hollywoodized as it would undoubtedly be, they would all have capes and masks and those capes would billow about while the music swelled.

And then they were climbing the steps up to the lobby entrance and Franklin Buck the Dollar Man wondered if all of those heroic types in all of those movies also fought triumphantly to keep the contents of their stomachs stationary and squeezed like crazy to keep their bladders from dousing the crotch of their suits.

Chapter 113

4.b.

He should have chessboard up here.  Something symbolic like that; borderline metaphoric.  With huge gothic pieces made of obsidian and quartz.  At present, the obsidian pieces should have taken many of the quartz crystals.  Not so many as to look unbalanced though.  It should appear as though white still had a chance to overcome the black forces.  They wouldn’t, of course, but a glimmer of hope for that possible victory must be present or else why continue to play the game?

Ivory!

Yes, ivory.  Not quartz.  Fashioned from the tusks of endangered elephants.  How’s that for symbolic?

The Big Bossman turned from his triangular office window and strode to the desk.  He pressed a button.  It blinked red a few times and then glowed continuously.

“One chessboard.  Large.  Etched titanium.  Kings nine inches tall.  Obsidian.  Ivory from endangered elephants.”

He pressed the button again and the red glow faded.  He walked back toward the window, paused, and then returned to his desk and pressed the red button again.

“Book.  Audio version.  Performed by someone British.  Subject: chess strategies and tactics.”

Chapter 112

The Tragic Death of Corporate Man

a hero for capitalism;

champion of the working class

by Tom Landaluce

Section 4:

Collision Looming in the Corporate Ladder Lobby.

4.a.

It was called Jacob Center for reasons lost to reams of misfiled or boxed up paperwork, changes in management, alterations to corporate strategy, and/or heavily over-calculated positions of denial. 

At the center was a structure one might call dark, sleek, ominous, foreboding, and whatever fashionable terms of power and dominance happened to be in vogue at the time of description.  Yet its design was unassuming enough to be casually overlooked or forgotten whenever a list was made of noteworthy architecture in the downtown area or when one was desperately searching for the home base of the very paradigm of evil corporations, Incorporated Business Corporate Incorporated.

The Jacob Center Tower stood fifty-two stories high, and it was capped by a large pyramid which comprised the entirety of the fifty-second floor.  Curiously absent, along with the traditionally omitted thirteenth floor, were those of the twenty-six and thirty-ninth.  The facade of the building was smooth, paneled glass with solid black corner walls and no apparent ledges or overhangs.  The only significantly unique element in its appearance were three, wide, windowless bands, the same black as the corner structures, which broke the building’s height into four separate sections like a stack of blocks.

As with most buildings, the tower had its own share of rumors and urban myths hanging about it.  Most of these were circulated by the janitorial staff, however, and were ignored by the predominantly white-collar population that frequented the inner corridors.  Not surprisingly, most of these rumors revolved around the buildings architectural oddities; the aforementioned absent floors being a large draw.  The three dark bands that wrapped its exterior were another area of interest.  Curiously, those bands began, respectively, above floors twelve, twenty-five, and thirty-eight, and terminated below floors fourteen, twenty-seven, and forty leading those nosey custodial types to suspect the secret existence of floors thirteen, twenty-six, and thirty-nine.  The bands were, in height, comparable to that of three standard floors. 

What was going on in all of that space?

Another feature that was of some concern to our inquisitive cleaning crew was that of the building’s corners.  Being solid black, they outlined the building, but they were not merely paneled facades, they had depth.  The front corner of the tower housed the executive elevator; used only by big wigs, head honchos, or various branch managers of the four corner locations of Incorporated Business Corporation Incorporated.  The opposite corner also contained an elevator.  The service elevator.  None of this was unusual, but the remaining two pillar-like corners of the building boasted no usage whatsoever

One would suspect that elevators for the staff or outside visitors would occupy these remaining areas, but a central bank of elevators located beyond the front lobby served this purpose. 

It was a commonly held belief among the janitorial staff that these two, apparently unused, columns were fit with hidden doors which led to secret entrances for the suspiciously absent floors thirteen, twenty-six, and thirty-nine.  It should also be mentioned that one noticed, should one be paying attention, a strange sensation when riding the staff elevators which occurred between floors twelve and fourteen, twenty-five and twenty-seven, and thirty-eight and forty.  No, it didn’t take longer for the elevator pass between these floors, but there was a sense of falling, or accelerated lift when in these zones.

As for the pyramid crowning the ominous, though often overlooked, structure of the Jacob Center Tower…  No one spoke of it.  Those that dared had the unfortunate habit of disappearing.

Chapter 111

3.c.xi

“Ah, Miss Adams.  I was hoping to see you again,” the bossman said, glaring at Business Woman.  His chest was pinned against his desk and his arm was barred behind his back by Corporate Man.  “So I could have the pleasure of firing you myself.”

He gave a low, almost inaudible, chuckle and held his stare for a long moment.  Then, with an air of smug righteousness, he said, “You’re fired.  Now get out of my office.  I’ve got business to attend to.”

Senior Executive took a step forward, leaned toward the bossman and whispered, “Yes, that’s all well and good, but Miss Adams is actually Business Woman, and she’s with us.”

Showing no sign of shock or revelation or even embarrassment, the bossman said, “Business Woman, huh.  In the future, Miss Adams, it would serve you well to include such information on your personnel sheet.”

“Would it?” said Business Woman, not really fighting off the urge to grin.

“I know I would have avoided much inconvenience had you been forthright,” he replied.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “Now, shall we get down to business?”

“Let’s,” said the bossman, retaining his overconfident glare.

Corporate Man released the arm bar and shoved the bossman into the office chair.  The bossman winced but did not clutch his side.  Corporate Man held the vibrating, greed-filled ray gun to the bossman’s chin and said, “This little device, which we’ll call our corporate analyst, has reported that you are the top executive of this establishment.  We know, however, that you are not the head of the empire.  Our reports indicate that you are one or four limbs in the Incorporated Business Corporation Incorporated enterprise, merely an arm or a leg.  Where’s the head?”

The bossman shrugged, “Your information is not only incorrect, it is confidential.”

“If it’s incorrect, there would be no reason to assert that it is, likewise, confidential,” said Senior Executive.

“Yes,” said the bossman.  Then he sat, motionless.

Business Woman slapped him and, almost as an afterthought, she said, “I personally scouted the west and south side branches and, as you know, I infiltrated this north side location whereby I ascertained the location of the east side facility.  We’ve pinpointed the four corners.  All signs indicate a central office.  Where is it?”

“I would assume that your ‘corporate analyst’ would be able to advise you of the central office location,” said the bossman, gesturing flippantly to the greed-filled ray gun.  “Provided that the assumption of the existence of a central office is conceded to.”

“This is pointless,” said Business Woman.  “We’ll never get anything out of him.  I once listened to this prick pull crap like this on a conference call for an entire afternoon.”

“Then why can’t we use that corporate analyst gun thing to find it?” Franklin Buck asked.

“We could, but the process would take a long time and lead us through an endless succession of greedy companies and people until we were close enough to the central figure head for it to lock on to that signal through all the greedy corporate interference,” said Corporate Man.

Senior Executive tapped Corporate Man on the shoulder and signaled him into a huddle with himself and Business Woman.  In a hushed tone he said, “We need to get some financial records.  There’s going to be an ass-load of paperwork flowing from this place to that.  Invoices, expenses, shipping records, something will point us there.”

“But won’t we need data from all the other branches to find the intersecting location?” Business Woman asked.

“Yeah, we’ll have to go break into one of the other three, access their files, and from there–”

“Uh guys,” said Franklin Buck, “this may seem stupid, but what about this?”  He was pointing to a framed, poster-sized map, hanging on the wall. “Here’s us, right?” he said, tapping the map.  Then he grabbed a black marker from the bossman’s desk and circled the location.

“Hey!  You can’t vandalize company property!” the bossman shouted.

They all ignored his protests.

“Now,” said Franklin Buck, “circle the locations of the other branches.”

He handed the marker to Business Woman and while she circled the locations on the map, Franklin Buck removed an oversized calendar from the wall.  He returned to the map and used the calendar like a straight edge, drawing a black line connecting the north and south locations.  Then he did the same for the east and west branches.

“There.  The lines intersect at… Jacob Center.  I bet that’s the central office,” Franklin said and turned to face the others.  No one said anything.  Then, after a painfully long moment, they all turned toward the bossman as if his expression might reveal something.

Finally, the bossman spoke, “Are you currently seeking gainful employment?  Because we could always use a good man.  Of course we’ll have to garnish your first paycheck to pay for the map vandalism, but the–”

“No freaking way,” Business Woman said.  “Can’t be that simple.”

“Yeah, how stupid can these corporate types really be?” asked Senior Executive.

They all paused again and looked at each other, and then at the bossman.  He was busy digging out a form from a set of files in his desk drawer.

“Of course, you’ll need to fill out this application.  Is your resume up to date? Oh, and references.  We’ll need references,” said the bossman.  He glanced back and forth between the others in the room, eyeing them with suspicion.  “It would probably be best if your references did not include the names of those in our company at present.”

Chapter 110

3.c.x

Merlton had trouble understanding most city folk.  Their patterns of speech and clipped accents always required extra attention on his part.  Understanding the woman in his shop right now was worse than normal.  Maybe it was because she had more teeth than the average person.  It was also quite possible that she had a case of mumps.  Did people still get mumps these days?

There she went again, saying something.  What was that?

She’d come in before with a bag full of teeth and a note asking him to make the things into bullets.  Mighty strange.  In seventeen years of running this gun shop, Merlton had never heard that particular request.  Sure, he’d been asked to make all kinds of custom crap for hot headed militia types, but teeth?

He told her that he could encase a tooth in the lead of each bullet, but that she would need a large enough caliber weapon – he pointed to the Chiappa Rhino .357 magnums and the Ruger Super Redhawk Alaskan .454 caliber – to accommodate them.  She liked the idea, but wrote down a strange request.  She wanted to be able to see the teeth in the final product.  Sort of a tooth capped bullet or something.  He warned that an irregular tooth shape could screw up the aim and damage her gun barrel.  She wrote that she didn’t care.

Now, here she was again, chewing her words with all them teeth, eager to pick up her merchandise.  Along with the custom bullets, she’d gone with a pair of the chrome plated Rugers with the 2½ inch barrels. 

Merlton threw his hands up, confused at her muttered speech.  The woman with more teeth than the average person scribbled a note on her receipt.  It read: Thank you for the quick turn around time.  And the necessary discretion.

Merlton nodded.  All the words after “thank you” were unnecessary.  He always got things done quick and he never spoke of one’s business to another.

Chapter 109

3.c.ix

The bossman felt great, despite his aching ribs.  Nothing beat the high one got from leveraging another human being and profiting from it so quickly.  The bonus numbers were looking good.  He was almost giddy.  In fact, he hadn’t felt this elated since the whole Corporate Man affair had started.

He should fire someone.

He opened a program on his desk top. 

Seedy lounge music seeped from his speakers as a title screen for Subordinate Roulette popped up on his monitor.  The bossman selected “Continue Saved Game” from the options and a roulette wheel appeared, dominating most of the screen.  Ugly, sad looking people squat in the outer pockets where the red and black numbers should have been.  A heaving chested blonde in minimal attire smiled cheerfully next to the wheel, gesturing toward it like a game-show-prize model.

The bossman clicked a drop down menu and selected “Update Employee Directory.”  This imported a list of current employees into the game and avatars of randomly selected workers materialized on the roulette wheel.  He clicked another button and the cheerful blonde bent over the wheel revealing her every asset as she rolled a chrome ball into the spinning apparatus.

There was a pleasant clacking sound as the ball bounced around.  The employee avatars shrieked and shuddered when it struck nearby.  And then, with a satisfying plunking splut, the ball crushed a man with short, banker hair and glasses.

The bossman fingered the intercom and said, “Bring me employee #8008, Mr. Stanley Curtsfield.  And have security escort him up here so he’ll suspect what’s going on.”

“That’s reprehensible,” a booming voice sounded from somewhere in the room.  The bossman jumped up from his desk, winced, and clutched his side, stymieing a whimper.

Corporate Man dropped into the room from a vague upward direction.  The bossman looked around, confused and slightly panicked.  Before he could speak, Corporate Man surged forward, grabbed the bossman by the shirt collar and said, “No.  I don’t have an appointment.”

Chapter 108

3.c.viii

“That one there,” said Business Woman.  “That’s his office.”

The four of them were scouting the area from the relative safe zone of the water cooler.

“How can you tell?” asked Senior Executive.

“I used to work for him.  Did you see how that woman came storming out just now?”

“Yeah,” said Franklin Buck.  “She looked pissed.”

Business Woman nodded.  “I saw that look on more than one person every single day I worked here.”

“Let’s pay him a visit, shall we,” said Corporate Man, striding into the reception area.  Seated behind the desk was a plump woman with hair like steel wool.  Her eyes lifted from her work as Corporate Man approached.

“I assume you have an appointment,” she said.

“Of course.”

“Name?”

“Uh… Jones.  Smithy Jones,” said Corporate Man.

“Yes, he’s expecting you,” she said. 

Her voice sounded like a duck.

“Oh,” said Corporate Man, his posture of confidence fracturing as a bolt of panic streaked through him.  “Really?”

“Oh yeah.  We let random people with really lame fake names in to see our corporate executives all the time.”

Corporate Man leaned forward and spoke in a softer, more humble tone.  “So I take it, and let me know if I’m mistaken, that you aren’t going to let us in to see him.”

“You can always sit and wait for him to come out,” the receptionist said.

Corporate Man smiled and returned to the others.  They seemed eager for information even though they had all heard the conversation.

“Did we have a plan for getting past the receptionist?” asked Franklin Buck. 

Everyone glanced around at everyone else.

Finally, Corporate Man’s grin widened and he said, “I think I know how to get inside.  He reached into his suit jacket and removed his PDA.

“Let’s hope my stocks are up,” he said.

Chapter 107

3.c.vii

The bossman finally relented and asked the receptionist to show Emily from Human Resources in.

He’d kept her waiting for over twenty-five minutes already.

Emily was a slim woman with short, pixie-like hair.  He distrusted slim corporate types.  Their physique conveyed a lack of greed and a surplus of principles that typically made them an irritant.  This stereotype was wholly untrue as he’d met a great deal of trim, narcissistic money-grubbers in his time, as well as some annoyingly honest, chubby angels, but the bossman still maintained his ill conceived wariness.

“You never called me back so I though an in person–”

“Yes, what is it, I’m very busy,” the bossman said.

“I’ve come across a payroll issue in regards to an employee’s salary,” she said.

“No.”

“No what?”

“No raises.  Our hours-based, incremental wage increases are fair enough.  Too generous if you want my opinion,” the bossman said and then turned away as though the matter had been dealt with sufficiently.

“That’s not the issue at all,” said Emily, her voice betraying a certain level of frustration she would rather keep concealed from her boss.

“Explain,” said the bossman.

“I’m trying.”

“Then continue.”

Emily’s head shook of its own accord and her eyes threatened to roll.  She gritted her teeth and then said, “I was at an employee’s desk getting the incremental paperwork signed and he questioned me about the amount.”

“Tell him it’s a fair–”

Emily held up her hand and the bossman stopped talking.  He seemed a little surprised by his own compliance.

Emily continued, “According to the paperwork he had earned a level two status, but the wage increase put him at a level five.  He pointed this out to me and asked if the raise should be for a lower amount.  I looked into it.  He was a transfer from a different division and his previously logged hours were, for some reason, not factored in when he started here.  He was, therefore, given the entry level wage and the incremental status of level one.  He worked under the assumption that because he had entered a different division, his wage level started over.  But, since level one in our division had a higher wage than the level three of his former position, he hadn’t questioned the apparent loss of hours worked.  But his status should not have restarted and not only should he be given the incremental status of level five, he should also receive retro pay dating back to his transfer date.  I have all the paperwork here.  I just need your signature.”

The bossman narrowed his eyes.  This was just the sort of thing he didn’t want the Big Bossman seeing.  Approving large raises and forking over back pay.  He shook his head.

“No.  We keep him at level two and decrease the raise accordingly.”

“What?  That’s unethical.”

“That’s business.  The employee in question believes that his wage should be level two.  In fact, it’s what he was expecting so it’s not like he’ll miss those extra dollars that may or may not belong to him.”

“They do belong–”

This time it was the bossman who held up his hand and Emily exhibiting the compliant silence.  After allowing the pain in his ribs to subside he said, “Always pay your employees as little as they are willing to accept.  There is no reason to give them more money if they are willing to work for less.”

He waved Emily toward the door and, as soon as she was gone, he began calculating how much money he’d just saved the company and how much that savings would increase his next bonus.

Chapter 106

3.c.vi

I don’t understand,” said Business Woman, “this was his office.  I worked at the desk right out there.  He rarely left this wing of the building.  He should be here.”

Out in the reception area the entrance door opened. 

Business Woman shot Franklin Buck a glance and whispered a reminder to him about their cover story.  There was an uncomfortably long pause before a voice finally spoke from the front desk.

“Excuse me, is anybody in here?” asked Corporate Man.

Business Woman’s shoulders dropped and she breathed a relieved sigh.  Then she walked out into the reception area where Corporate Man, Senior Executive, and Fair Wage were standing. 

“He’s not here.  It doesn’t make sense,” she said. “What about the greed-pieces?  What do they indicate?”

Corporate Man pulled the greed-loaded space gun from his jacket, held it for a moment and then said, “Up.  I mean, they’re really bouncing around in this room, but the general direction is still upward.  How about we take the stairs and climb until these things start moving sideways?”

The five of them moved out into the hallway and found the stairs.  They left Fair Wage in the lobby, insisting that someone needed to wait for Supply and Demand.  Truthfully, they didn’t think the old man should climb so many steps. 

After three flights, the movement inside the greed-gun abruptly changed.

"This is the floor,” said Corporate Man.

Chapter 105

3.c.v

“They’re in,” Corporate Man whispered. 

He, Senior Executive, and Fair Wage had been in the building for nearly thirty minutes.  They’d swept into the lobby leading a group of Japanese businessmen, acting as if they’d courted the foreign tradesmen and were bringing them into the building for an important meeting.  They breezed right past the reception desk and into the elevators where they quickly separated themselves from the confused Asian entrepreneurs.

Their next step had been to gather at a water cooler.  This was most advantageous to their purpose as water coolers are out of bounds zones in the corporate world.  Milling about is expected here and almost always allowed, taking on an almost religious air.  A company dare not interfere with this important American institution. 

Especially since they could write it off on their taxes.

Supply and Demand were also inside.  To gain entrance they’d shown up as job applicants and were instructed to head over to Personnel.  No one noticed when they did not show up in that department.

Corporate Man checked his greed-filled ray gun.

“This thing is freaking out.  We’re definitely in the right place,” he said.  He loosened his grip on it, trying to decipher the dominant thrust of its movements.  “I think it’s trying to go up.”

“That’s where Business Woman is heading,” said Senior Executive.  “The twenty second floor.”

“Right.  Yeah, her cover job.  We should make our way there up there,” Corporate Man said, checking his tie and slipping the vibrating ray gun into his suit pocket.  Senior Executive smoothed the sleeves of his dark grey suit and adjusted Fair Wage’s collar before they strode into a nearby elevator.

Going up.

Chapter 104

3.c.iv

“So we’re going to just walk right in?” Franklin Buck asked.

“Yep,” said Business Woman.

“In through the front door?”

“Uh huh.”

“Of this building?” he said, gesturing toward the grey, nondescript building.  “Doesn’t look like much.”

“This is the Northside Branch of Incorporated Business Corporation Incorporated.  The company that, we suspect, runs it all.  I’ve managed to locate all four branches of the main corporate structure, but there’s a head office somewhere.  I was working here, trying to discover its location.”

“Yes and then you abandoned the operation to rescue Corporate Man,” Franklin Buck said.  “Wait, won’t they recognize you?”

Business Woman shrugged and motioned Franklin Buck toward the entrance and said, “Doubt it.  I was wearing a wig.”

“A wig?”

“It’s a corporation.  That’s about all it takes.  Speaking of which,” she said as they walked into the lobby and approached the front desk, “watch and learn.”

Business Woman’s stride lengthened and her hips took on a swagger.  She tapped her fingers on the reception desk and when she spoke it was with a slight southern accent.

“Hi, we’re from out of town, just flew in to this fair city of yours.  We’re here about the merger.”

The receptionist nodded as though she was well aware of Business Woman’s needs. “Oh sure,” she said, “I’ll get you where you need to go. Which company are you with?”

Business Woman didn’t hesitate, “Well sweety, how many companies are finalizing mergers today?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve?  Really?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a slow day.  Who are you with?”

Business Woman leaned against the counter and said, “Well, since it’s slow, let’s play a little game.  Which outfit would you guess I was with?”

The receptionist shrugged.  “Well… I detect a slight accent and three of the companies are headquartered in the South.  From Alabama there’s Big Co. and Bigger Co.  Then from Kentucky we’ve got Impress Inc..  I’m gonna go with Bigger Co.”

“Oh, sorry dear.  I’m a Kentucky girl.  Better luck next time.”

“Fourth floor.  Conference room C.  Don’t forget your visitor’s badges,” the receptionist said, gesturing to a basket of plastic, clip-on cards on the edge of her desk.

Business Woman clipped a badge on her suit and then attached one to Franklin Buck.

“Oh.  Which way to the elevator?”

The receptionist pointed.

Business Woman thanked her for all the help.

“I assume you knew where the elevators were?” Franklin asked once they were out of earshot.

“Of course.  But little touches like that help avoid suspicion.  Asking for recommendations of good restaurants in the area is a good one too.”

“And how’d you know there would be a merger going on?”

“Weren’t you listening?  This is the corporation of corporations.  There’s always some sort of acquisition in the works meaning there’s always a merger going on.”

Chapter 103

3.c.iii

Donkey was in his cramped office.  Sweating.  How pathetic.  Over the years he’d developed several nervous ticks, all of which were employed at present.  He was obsessed with the movements of The Elephant and tracked them incessantly, keeping tabs on many of The Elephant’s upper party members as well. 

Over the years Donkey had found himself on the losing end of more than one of their schemes.  This had shattered his self confidence.  Sadly, he had yet to understand that The Elephant blundered into success more often than not and that second guessing his own actions, and failing to act when necessary, had contributed to a large portion of the opposition’s victories as well.

And so here he was, huddled in this embarrassing office space, so consumed with his pachyderm nemesis that he’d failed to notice the figure in the doorway.

The Big Bossman was watching him, had been watching him for several minutes, allowing his disgust and contempt for the nervous ass to build.

He fingered the obsidian cufflink on his white suit jacket and then adjusted his black tie with his black gloved hands.

He should strangle Donkey.  Punch him in the face a couple of times, except that might get blood on his pristine white slacks.  He stroked his luscious moustache and considered all the sinister options.

Chapter 102

3.c.ii

They were all gathered together in the Break Room. 

It was called The Office, but did not actually contain an office, much less a proper conference room.  Corporate Man lamented this fact, but what could he do?  He was not about to hold the meeting in his bedroom.  And the lookout tower always derailed productivity due to the presence of that damnable copy machine.

He had hoped for a better turn out, but those who had come would work well together.  Donkey and The Elephant might have been appreciated, but their constant bickering would be just as counter productive as the copier upstairs.  Miss Pension responded but cited reasons of health for her non-appearance.  Commander Credit was always a pay-to-play member, a freelancer, and he’d phoned in with his current rates which were far too steep.

Fair Wage had come, shriveled and old, but wearing his signature brown-corduroy suit.  Ben Buck’s son, Franklin was a welcome surprise as was Senior Executive.

“Thank you all for coming,” said Corporate Man as they finished up with the prepared snacks and refilled their coffees.  “I know I’ve been out of commission for a long time and I know this past decade has been a trial for all of you, but if we work together I think we can set everything right and get this country back on track.”

There was a murmur of approval.  When it quieted down, Corporate Man continued.  He spoke little of specifics, the majority of his short speech outlining the business philosophies they should undertake and the opposition they were most likely to encounter.  Then he turned the floor over to Business Woman.

“We’ve already turned Dale Breaker the Deal Breaker and, more importantly, we met and bested The Greed managing to secure a sample of his mass which, Corporate Man assures me, will help us track down the roots of the economic evil.  I spent some time as an undercover secretary at a company called Incorporated Business Corporation Incorporated.  My investigation was still in the primary stages when Corporate Man was located and I had to break cover.  This is where we will begin our search.  In front of you is a packet detailing the business plan Corporate Man and I have developed.  We’ll go over it point by point, make any necessary revisions, and then we’ll head out into the market place.”

Chapter 101

3.c.i

All was clear and vivid, but it seemed dark just the same.  It was as though the shadows were black ink and everything was outlined with the heavy weight of a broken quill pen or a thick brush.

The light behaved in strange way, refracting into small circles or prismatic stripes, and colors glowed and shimmered for no reason at all.

John Q Public’s face was sallow and hard.  He complained of feeling weary and anxious; that hope was failing.

“It’s Apathy,” Corporate Man told him.  “His presence is like a poison.”

“Is it just him?” John Q Public asked.  “I was out of action for awhile and it’s not just our enemies that seem more ruthless and harsh, but our country.  Today’s music is dark and depressing and people are so cynical.”

“Part of it is Apathy.  He’s been unleashed and his ideology has run rampant through Corporate America and popular culture.  We can take him though.  We’ve exposed Mr. Outsource thanks to you and have both The Greed and Professor Inflation in custody.  The country has turned around under the current administration.  We’ve just got to keep after our enemies and the new millennium will be a bright and prosperous place to live.”

John Q Public smiled and placed his hand on Corporate Man’s shoulder.

“Where would we be without you,” he said.  Then he stiffened and a stern look drew across his face.  “How long has he had Junior Executive?”

“About four months.  This is the third location we’ve tracked him to, Emperius Inc.  Home of DownLow Records.  Apparently, Captain Apathy owns this media giant and that could account for the darker trends in today’s music.”

John Q Public nodded and said, “How do we get in?”

“You could just call for an appointment.  Or knock perhaps,” a voice shouted down at them.  Standing behind a railing on the second floor of the imposing high rise was Junior Executive.  His hair was long and shaggy, his clothes looked deliberately threadbare and stained; sheik from a life of begging in the street.

“Junior, did you escape?  Are you alright?” Corporate Man shouted back his reply.  Junior Executive threw his head back and laughed.

“You stupid old has-been.  Can’t you see what’s going on?  I’m not a junior executive anymore.  I’m not even part of the job market.  I’m unemployed!”

“No!” Corporate Man yelled, his face losing all color.

“Why work?  Why do anything? What’s the point?”

“That’s not you talking, Junior.  That’s Captain Apathy,” said John Q Public.

“You may be right on that point,” a man said, moving out of the shadows to stand by the former Junior Executive.  “But I’m not longer a captain.  I’ve been promoted.  I’m a general now.”

Chapter 100

3.b.xiv

Senior Executive was still walking through the corridor that led from the entrance inside the rest stop vending machine to the stairwell at The Office.  The trek was over two miles.  In the old days there were bicycles for Union members or their guests.  In the eighties those bikes were replaced by a set of go-karts.  Unfortunately, the batteries of the karts had not survived the passage of the last decade and the bicycles had been removed from the corridor to make room for the go-karts.

And so he walked.

Perhaps he should’ve purchased a few snacks from the machine before climbing into it.

Chapter 99

3.b.xiii

The bossman was sweating.  His side ached and the over-the-counter pain killers were doing nothing to dampen the pain from his broken ribs even after he’d exceeded the daily limit by more than a few dosages.  Still, nothing.  He should have been at home in bed, recovering, but he knew that that East Side bitch never took days off, never slept, so he was determined to push through the pain and find a way to best her.

The sweat, however, was not a result of his physical discomfort.  Perspiration came because of the alert he’d received from the Big Bossman.  On a normal day he would have been unnerved by correspondence from the big guy, but contact so soon after his failure at the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore seemed far too coincidental.  He needed to be careful.  He was, most assuredly, being monitored.

There was a buzz from his intercom.  This had a three fold effect.  One, a yelp burst forth from the bossman’s lips.  Two, a close call as some pee tried to escape into his pants.  Three, a lurching jump that shifted his ribs and sent a fresh surge of pain through him. 

Also, there was an increase of sweat, but since he was already sweating, this did not count as four.

“Yes,” he spat into the machine.

“Emily from Human Resources is on line one.”

“Tell her I’ll have to call her back,” he said.  The bossman reached for some papers to shuffle in order to provide the illusion of industrious activity, but this was not his desk and so nothing was where he thought it ought to be.  This was not even his office.  His was still under repair due to his last rampage. 

The bossman scowled and considered damaging this office.  The effort would require a great deal of movement so he thought better of the idea.  And the receptionist on this floor seemed competent enough.

He wiped sweat from his brow then rose, gingerly, and shuffled into the private bathroom all upper level executives enjoyed.  He washed his hands and face and took another handful of pain pills.

Chapter 98

3.b.xii

Corporate Man sat at the console in The Office tower lost in thought and reminiscence.  Business Woman had gone back downstairs to arrange things before the others started showing up.  He stood and went to the half moon couch, sat, and stared at the wall of photographs nestled between the computer console and the bench seating.  There was FDR after his recovery and a rare snap shot of Jimmy Carter, barefoot, in overalls, wearing a straw hat.

A buzz from the console brought him back to the present, and back in front of the computer screen.  A green button flashed, signaling the incoming video transmission.

Corporate Man pressed the button.

“Hey!  See there?  I told you it was him.  Hey Corporate Man, it’s me.  Bill,” said Bill Clinton.  He wore a dark red, satiny robe.  It was open in the front and an ample amount of chest protruded, adorned with a heavy, gold chained necklace. 

“Gosh, you’re right,” said a man stepping into frame.  Corporate Man could not understand the man’s attire.

“Al, how’s it going?  And what are you wearing?” Corporate Man asked.

“Oh, it’s going alright,” Al Gore said.  “And this is an Earth friendly suit made of unbleached bamboo fibers with solar panel inlays.”

The off-white suit had dark shoulder pads made of tiny rectangles.  A chest-plate of the same material draped his upper torso.  He wore a pair of thick, white-rimmed glasses that seemed a little too large.  Light emanated from the frame, illuminating the lenses.

“The paneling powers these state of the art iGlasses.  I can access the internet and make calls and take pictures and face–”

“Al,” came another voice from off camera.

“Oh, sorry,” Al said.  “We got your alert and wanted to wish you luck.  Also, we though you’d like to meet the new Commander in Chief.  He’s a big fan of yours by the way.  This is President Obama.”

A man dressed in red white and blue basketball uniform, circa 1976, complete with headband and shorts that were far too short, walked into view on the screen.

“Call me Barack,” he said.  “I just want you to know that we support your efforts.  Any assistance you can offer the country at this point would be a big help.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Barack.”

“Barack.  I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all any of us can do,” said the President.

Corporate Man spoke with the three men for a few more minutes, accepted Al Gore’s offer to update the computer equipment at The Office, and then signed off.

There was another beep from the console, this time the signal came from the rest stop vending machine.  He checked a number of security cameras to verify that no one else was within sight of the machine and then flipped the toggle to activate the vending machine’s intercom.

“Do you require some assistance with your snack purchase?” Corporate Man asked.

“Only that I wish for verification that no worker was exploited during the manufacturing of this product, the ingredients are–”

“Junior?  Is that you?” Corporate Man said, interrupting the sequence of the password verification.

“Affirmative.  But it’s Senior Executive now.  I’m reporting for my shift and ready to clock in sir.”

Chapter 97

3.b.xi

She was tall and strong.

Currently.

He was short and feeble.

For now at least.

“Hey, guess what?” she said, not really asking a question and not waiting for a reply.  “Our belt buckles have activated.  You know, our Union belt buckles.”

He looked up, his eyes sallow and tired though an ember of hope twinkled deep within them, and said, “Really?  After all this time?”

“Yep.  I think he’s finally come back.  In fact, I’m more than fairly certain because… Well because the message is from him.”

He turned away, a smile spreading across his face, and relaxed into his chair.

“Well then,” he said.  “We’ll have to get dressed up, won’t we?”

She clasped her hands and made excited, girlish noises.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said.  Then she paused, a look of concern suddenly arresting her face.  “Do you remember how to get there?  The Office I mean.”

He nodded.

She relaxed.

The twins, Supply and Demand, would answer the call.

Chapter 96

3.b.x

Donkey’s hands were shaking, even before the belt buckle had sounded.  He was always sick with nervous tremors theses days.  How had he come to this?  He used to be so strong, so cocksure.  Now he sat in cramped offices, feverishly tracking the movements of his opposition, always trying to anticipate their next scheme yet always taken off guard by the seemingly inept brilliance of their public forays and the utter incompetence of their constituents.

He had no time for the Union, did he?

The Elephant’s people were trying to shift blame for the economy onto his leader.  For eight years they ran this country into financial ruin and now they asserted that the new administration was not only at fault for failing to reverse the damage in a fraction of the time, but was actually to blame for the monumental deficit. 

And that red state, tea-bagging crowd was buying it.

No, he couldn’t abandon his post now.  He must wait and fend off whatever attacks the opposition launched.  Unless…

Perhaps Corporate Man could aid him in his endeavors.  Shouldn’t he at least read the alert?  Maybe The Union were assembling against The Elephant’s people. 

Yes, he should answer. 

Wait…

Could this be The Elephant’s latest ruse?  A trick to divert Donkey’s attention?

It would be just like that big bastard.

Donkey would not be answering the call.

Would he?

Chapter 95

3.b.ix

The Elephant sat in a well cushioned chair in his office, eating his third pint of peanut caramel triple chocolate cluster ice-cream.  He sipped a diet cola from a crystal flute and watched pro-wrestling on the enormous flatscreen mounted on the wall.

His Union Belt buckle had, long ago, collapsed under the strain of his ever growing girth.  It now lay resting in a storage unit that rivaled The Elephant’s house in square footage.

He would not be answering the call.