Black Flag
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Ethan disappearing isn’t really always that unusual; he’ll just up and go on a vacation or a business trip often without even packing.
But this is the first time he’s gone ten days without contacting anyone.
Making things worse is the glaring absence of Cobe; while that lazy fuck is off vacationing or whatever in the arctic, everything was beginning to fall apart without Ethan at the helm.
The sense of deterioration in the office was obvious and virtually palpable. Supplies were being ordered incorrectly –if in fact ordered at all. Bills were going unpaid. Deadlines were being missed. Things were so bad, when Babs asked me if I run the warehouse for a few days, I jumped at the chance.
The truth is I’m somewhat of a shipping and receiving prodigy. With a crew of 46 hard-scrabble industrial types, on a typical day we would receive about 26 semi trailers with materials and generally ship out about the same amount.
Now, under my radiant guidance, loads are brought into the north side of the building, processed, disseminated, recombined, and shipped out on trucks waiting on the south side just as usual. But now those trucks drive immediately back around to the north side, and the process is repeated.
But within only a few days, I have them doing triple the production. Hell, now I’m considering not letting the trucks stop here in the first place … just have the long line of semis circling the building clockwise. If they approve my on-site diesel refueling station, we’re talking nothing but round-the-clock efficiency.
***
Immediately after shuffling up the papers in Jimmy Orlando’s vacant office, I got the call instructing me –and all Predator Press executives—to meet at the banquet hall. My suspicions that it was a surprise party for me celebrating being named the Forbes Man of the Year were dispelled almost immediately upon arrival; already very late, I hurriedly snuck in and joined the table where Phoebe, Mr Insanity and Sapphire were already sitting even as Gilmore was addressing the podium.
“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending with such short notice. You’ll note that Jimmy Orlando will not be joining us today; his house mysteriously burned down yesterday, and I would like to extend my personal sympathies.”
“That’s horrible,” I says.
“Indeed,” says Gilmore, a little annoyed by the interruption. “I would also like to congratulate you all for having the highest circulation we’ve ever had this year. At this rate, we would most certainly have eventually turned a profit.”
“Would have?” Sapphire whispers.
“And as you all know, according to the Charter, Babs is the defacto CEO in Ethan’s absence. And since it’s been well over a week since Ethan was kidnapped, my may have to face the possibility that he may never return.”
“Who said anything about kidnapping?” whispered Mr Insanity.
“I’ll bet it’s Babs’ highly-developed maternal instinct,” I says.
Mr Insanity looked at me strangely. “Babs doesn’t have any kids.”
“God doesn’t give a woman breasts like that if He doesn’t intend for her to be a fantastic mother.”
“Well, while I find your logic rather fascinating,” Mr I says, “God didn’t give her those breasts. Doctor Helmsly did.”
Gilmore continued. “And as the Acting CEO of Predator Press, Babs has been forced to conclude that this business cannot continue without him. She has decided to close the doors and liquidate all the assets immediately.”
“English please,” I says. “We’re not all calculatrons you know.”
“None of you work here anymore,” says Gilmore.
“Oh thank God,” I says. “I’m freaking exhausted from all this getting up at 10 in the morning three or four days a week. And can you just mail me my paychecks? It’s a kinda long drive--”
“Perhaps,” says Gilmore, “I’m not being very clear.”
“Hey,” I says. “I’m sure I’m speaking for everyone when I ask you if there is there going to be food at this thing. I’m famished. Plus I’m tired … I had a very late night. And do you have any idea how hard it is getting a gasoline smell out of a ninja outfit? Let me tell you, it’s a big pain in the ass--”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Gilmore clearly into the microphone. “As of today, you’re all fired.”
“Who said anything about fire?” I says.
Suddenly, Mr Insanity’s hands are around Gilmore’s throat.
“You DICK!” he screamed.
Gilmore tried to squirm free, only further infuriating his assailant; Mr Insanity delivered three or four bone-crushing punches to his unprotected head before Sapphire could pull him off.
“Stop that Mr Insanity!” she demanded. “You’ll kill him before I get my turn!”
“We’re not killing him,” says Phoebe.
“What?”
“We’re not killing him,” she repeated. “We need him to find Babs, and we need Babs to find Ethan.”
Reluctantly, Mr Insanity relaxed. “You’re a fucking scumbag,” he says to Gilmore. “If it comes out that you had anything to do with this, I’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill everyone you’ve ever met until there aren’t even memories of you anymore.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “You’re the second-worst 'Vice President of All Things LOBO' I’ve ever had!”
[LOBO]
Ethan disappearing isn’t really always that unusual; he’ll just up and go on a vacation or a business trip often without even packing.
But this is the first time he’s gone ten days without contacting anyone.
Making things worse is the glaring absence of Cobe; while that lazy fuck is off vacationing or whatever in the arctic, everything was beginning to fall apart without Ethan at the helm.
The sense of deterioration in the office was obvious and virtually palpable. Supplies were being ordered incorrectly –if in fact ordered at all. Bills were going unpaid. Deadlines were being missed. Things were so bad, when Babs asked me if I run the warehouse for a few days, I jumped at the chance.
The truth is I’m somewhat of a shipping and receiving prodigy. With a crew of 46 hard-scrabble industrial types, on a typical day we would receive about 26 semi trailers with materials and generally ship out about the same amount.
Now, under my radiant guidance, loads are brought into the north side of the building, processed, disseminated, recombined, and shipped out on trucks waiting on the south side just as usual. But now those trucks drive immediately back around to the north side, and the process is repeated.
But within only a few days, I have them doing triple the production. Hell, now I’m considering not letting the trucks stop here in the first place … just have the long line of semis circling the building clockwise. If they approve my on-site diesel refueling station, we’re talking nothing but round-the-clock efficiency.
Immediately after shuffling up the papers in Jimmy Orlando’s vacant office, I got the call instructing me –and all Predator Press executives—to meet at the banquet hall. My suspicions that it was a surprise party for me celebrating being named the Forbes Man of the Year were dispelled almost immediately upon arrival; already very late, I hurriedly snuck in and joined the table where Phoebe, Mr Insanity and Sapphire were already sitting even as Gilmore was addressing the podium.
“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending with such short notice. You’ll note that Jimmy Orlando will not be joining us today; his house mysteriously burned down yesterday, and I would like to extend my personal sympathies.”
“That’s horrible,” I says.
“Indeed,” says Gilmore, a little annoyed by the interruption. “I would also like to congratulate you all for having the highest circulation we’ve ever had this year. At this rate, we would most certainly have eventually turned a profit.”
“Would have?” Sapphire whispers.
“And as you all know, according to the Charter, Babs is the defacto CEO in Ethan’s absence. And since it’s been well over a week since Ethan was kidnapped, my may have to face the possibility that he may never return.”
“Who said anything about kidnapping?” whispered Mr Insanity.
“I’ll bet it’s Babs’ highly-developed maternal instinct,” I says.
Mr Insanity looked at me strangely. “Babs doesn’t have any kids.”
“God doesn’t give a woman breasts like that if He doesn’t intend for her to be a fantastic mother.”
“Well, while I find your logic rather fascinating,” Mr I says, “God didn’t give her those breasts. Doctor Helmsly did.”
Gilmore continued. “And as the Acting CEO of Predator Press, Babs has been forced to conclude that this business cannot continue without him. She has decided to close the doors and liquidate all the assets immediately.”
“English please,” I says. “We’re not all calculatrons you know.”
“None of you work here anymore,” says Gilmore.
“Oh thank God,” I says. “I’m freaking exhausted from all this getting up at 10 in the morning three or four days a week. And can you just mail me my paychecks? It’s a kinda long drive--”
“Perhaps,” says Gilmore, “I’m not being very clear.”
“Hey,” I says. “I’m sure I’m speaking for everyone when I ask you if there is there going to be food at this thing. I’m famished. Plus I’m tired … I had a very late night. And do you have any idea how hard it is getting a gasoline smell out of a ninja outfit? Let me tell you, it’s a big pain in the ass--”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Gilmore clearly into the microphone. “As of today, you’re all fired.”
“Who said anything about fire?” I says.
Suddenly, Mr Insanity’s hands are around Gilmore’s throat.
“You DICK!” he screamed.
Gilmore tried to squirm free, only further infuriating his assailant; Mr Insanity delivered three or four bone-crushing punches to his unprotected head before Sapphire could pull him off.
“Stop that Mr Insanity!” she demanded. “You’ll kill him before I get my turn!”
“We’re not killing him,” says Phoebe.
“What?”
“We’re not killing him,” she repeated. “We need him to find Babs, and we need Babs to find Ethan.”
Reluctantly, Mr Insanity relaxed. “You’re a fucking scumbag,” he says to Gilmore. “If it comes out that you had anything to do with this, I’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill everyone you’ve ever met until there aren’t even memories of you anymore.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “You’re the second-worst 'Vice President of All Things LOBO' I’ve ever had!”
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