Synergy

Predator Press

[Mr. I]

The Auditors are here.

"Chop, chop!" I says to Phoebe. "I need those NAFTA projections finalized in twenty minutes."

"We need a cure for cancer this very second," she replies, blowing off her nails.

"Wow!" says LOBO, slamming the door behind him. "Who is that new hot chick meeting with Cobe? Is she a temp?" He grabs his heart, looking to the sky, "Solomente Tu Este, Me Amore. Oh, those beautiful blue eyes ... "

"She's a Hawley Enterprises Auditor," I says.

"Are we getting audited?" LOBO asks excitedly.

"No," I reply. "The Predator Press Printshop is. They ran up 4.6 billion dollars last year for blog ink."

"But we're not getting audited?" LOBO frowns.

"No."

"What would we need to do to have a long, eviscerating audit, probing every inch of the entire editing staff?" he asks.

"We would have had to had questionable expenses last year," I offer. "But we came in under budget projections, and turned a profit of 2.6-"

Where's the document shredder?" LOBO asks, dialing.

"We don't have a document shredder," I reply helplessly.

"Hello, Cobe?" he says into the phone.

pause

"You're breaking up real bad. Something about 'you're with an auditor?'"

another pause

"Can't understand a word," says LOBO. "This phone is crap. Put me on speakerphone."

"LOBO," says Cobe. "We're very busy."

LOBO grins at me as he pours gasoline all over the room. Then, into the phone he says clearly, "Cobe, what exactly are we supposed to do with all these bags of cash?"

Comments

Anonymous said…
Never a good document shredder when you need one.
Poised between counting one second and striking another, you have found me again in your dreams. There I dance like a blade of grass. Now I crouch under the weight of a single butterfly that has decided to grace me with her wings. Your dream explodes now. I stand in your dream, between you and all that is you, holding a mirror. Look at your reflection and gaze upon all that was meant to be. Do you remember the dream where you were caught by a tide in the instant of leaping, to hurl yourself into the sky. I caught you when you fell into the dreaming time. Now you too may become the shape of the grass. You may ride the winds of time. I give you the ability to turn like an owl and grasp at the day, to burn like a nighthawk, to whirr like the bee, to sing like the sea-eagle screaming out of the sky. The wind will take you dreaming.....

But You Must Shape Your Dreams To Fly

Angel Feathers Tickle Me

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