Bring your kids to work day: Part 2

November 1, 2006

(Continued from Bring your kids to work: Part 1)

Solidly in the zone now Kyle locked his gaze on his next victim. “Hey freak show, your dad was captured and forced to work in the mailroom.”

Chumzo the tiny Sasquatch wept bitterly into his huge hands. My boys had had enough.

Ricochet stepped in front of the weeping yeti and addressed his tormentor. “At least his father is working in this crap sack against his will. What’s your dad’s excuse?”

Lucifer move to the other side of Kyle. “We shouldn’t judge his old man too harshly Ricochet, he’s probably just trying to save up enough money to buy a better kid.” The two boys laughed in evil tandem.

Kyle’s cronies chuckled at the jibe and awaited their leaders response. Kyle blustered a moment, then shot the fish in the barrel, “Wait a sec…your name is ‘Ricochet’? What kind of asshole names his kid ‘Ricochet’?”

Ricochet couldn’t really contest the point, “I don’ know… the same kind of asshole that tells his kids he’s the guardian of a magic forest. So I guess… a delusional one?”

“Wow, your dad is actually crazy. That’s got to suck,” said Kyle, almost sympathetically.

Ricochet shrugged noncommittally, “Yeah well, you play the hand you’re dealt.”

“He lets us carry knives,” Lucifer defended, opening his vest enough to show his switchblade. “Maybe you should stop bothering people.”

Kyle turned his attention elsewhere. The boys mingled.


(Meanwhile in HR)

The hulking mans bristling mustache twitched and jumped as Steve from HR shuffled through his resume. “You have a very impressive array of certifications here, and all refreshed within the last six months,” said Steve.

The huge man cleared his throat, “Yes… well, you have to keep on top of the game in this industry. I see my initial education as a mere jumping off point, a foundation for continual development of technical skills.”

Steve nodded distractedly, clearly impressed but troubled as well. “Yeah, absolutely. Uh… I feel a little awkward asking about this…”

The imposing applicant interrupted, “You can call any of my reference at anytime. They work mostly at home.”

Steve interjected, “No, that’s fine. It’s just… and I’m embarrassed to even mention it, but your name is a little provocative for a client services delivery manager.”

“I’ll have you know ‘Killian H. Childsnatcher’ is a good Christian name,” said Killian, straightening to his full eight foot height. “Why don’t you come right out and say it? This is about me being laid off from three companies in a row isn’t it?”

Steve absorbed the accusation, then countered. “Actually, it’s more about the huge sack of children you have slung over your shoulder there.”

Killian self-consciously shifted the squirming sack lower down his back. “Well… I, uh… is it really necessary to discuss my sack at this point and time?”

Steve choked back a juvenile laugh, then unfolded a small piece of paper. “I found this note stuck between the pages of your resume.”

Dear HR Guy,

This man has kidnapped us and plans to eat us at some future unspecified date. In addition to not hiring him, I would appreciate it if you also released us from the sack, as we do not wish to be eaten by the aforementioned gentleman.

Sincerely, Lucas,
The kid at the top of the sack.

“I’m not going to lie to you Mr. Childsnatcher, this is not the sort of behaviour we expect for our employees.”

Killian tightened the knot at the top of his sack, took a few deep calming breaths, and explained himself in as reasonable a fashion as he could manage. “First off, that particular child is quite the liar. Were I the type to eat children, which I am not, he would almost certainly be eaten first.” A defiant mumbling came from the top of the bag. “Secondly, these are all my own, human children, whom I had to stuff into a sack since I was unable to obtain a babysitter on such short notice.”

Steve thumbed through the resume again, squinted, considered, then decided to seek clarification. “Your wife couldn’t have watched them?”

Killian gave a half hearted shrug of his massive shoulders. “Single father.” A muffled wave of protest issued from the writhing sack.

Steve stroked his weak chin, “And would you be bringing that sack with you to work often?”

Killian patted his growling stomach. “Only when necessary.”

Steve calculated; profit and perdition warring behind his eyes. “What sort of salary were you expecting, Killian?”

Killian’s maw parted in an unpleasant grin. “Oh low to start with, most definitely. I’m not a real material person.”


(Back in the multipurpose room)

At the end of my shift I wandered over to the multipurpose room, just in time to see my boys engaging in the “Bring your kids to work day” Q&A/Child Debriefing Process. The head of community liaison, Claire, was “rapping” with the kids to see how the event played out.

“Ok guys, I would really like to understand how this experience went for you. What you learned, felt; how you’ve grown. No limits or rules, just friends talking.”

Tina, the daughter of Stu Cook from personnel, piped up. “I learned that budgetary adjustment of bonus scales and benefits can streamline a workforce rapidly.”

“Excellent,” said Claire, tossing Tina a bagel bite she gulped with otter-like grace

“How about you, Trevor?”, Claire asked a boy madly loading up on food.

“My dad got laid off today by Tina’s dad,” mumbled Trevor. Claire nodded compassionately, then signaled for security to remove the civilian child, making sure they pried the uneaten sandwiches from his hands.

“Bye bye Trevor, remember you’re dead to us now. Try not to look anyone in the eye on the way out,” said Claire chipperly. The machine-tooled gregariousness in her brain spun and whirred. “Anyone one else have a comment?”

Ricochet survey the weeping, cringing, vapid mass of humanity before him. “Yeah, I have a comment.” Claire cocked her head in rodent-like interest. “I learned that I’d rather whore out my little brother for cat food and cardboard box money, than feed my junk into the corporate machinery on a daily basis.” Claire’s plastic enthusiasm slid down her face.

“I learned I need a better pimp than my brother, if I want to live a decent lifestyle,” said Lucifer, feeling deeply under valued.

I figured it was about time I stepped in. “Nobody is whoring anybody, and nobody is working in an office. Now grab that weird little Sasquatch boy and let’s go find a forest to guard.” Chuzmo and the boys brightened visibly as I corralled them out of the building.

We must have stayed up half the night slashing tires, hucking cinder blocks, and waylaying middle management in trendy upscale pubs. I felt it was important that boys learned something of value that day: power in one area of someone’s life very rarely translates into power in all areas. Don’t cross a Valliant.

Office adventures in chronological order


3 Responses to “Bring your kids to work day: Part 2”

  1. jive Says:

    Awesome story, I have long desired to leave the cubicle life behind for a career in guarding majic forests

  2. “I have long desired to leave the cubicle life behind for a career in guarding majic forests ”

    I went to collage for magic forestry program, but could never real break into the industry. The layers of nepotism, politcs, and quota systems make it almost impossible for a young, anglo saxon, gentleman like myself to make any headway.

    Also I have few magic arson convictions on my record. Fucking Centaurs, leave me to take the rap.

  3. NotMike Says:

    I’m guessing Chuzmo’s dad had to work late again, eh? I could hear the missus barking at him until late into the evening.

    “A.J.’s more a father to Chuzmo,” she said. “Woof, woof!” she said. That weird, hairy half-breed freak son of theirs is better off with your little embezzlers than anywhere else, I guess.

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