As Mad As Hell (Part I)

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    IcePho3nix
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    As Mad As Hell (Part I)

    Post  IcePho3nix on Sun Aug 22, 2010 11:53 pm

    ((I'd thought about joining the Rain Dogs pre-release, but I felt I needed to join my brother and his friends on Zombie when they made a group. After a while, I kinda slacked off on APB, but now that I'm back, The FCC is pretty dead it would seem. So here I am, going "Fuck it, move it to LaRocha."

    I've RP'd with a couple other groups in a couple other games, but it has been a while, and I was never that great to begin with. So, here goes nothing, huh?))

    'Late. Late late fucking latelatelate!'

    Mark Anders darted down the street, but with his stress-induced old age and his more than pudgy physique, he only darted for a few meters before deciding to settle for late. '"It's already 9:40 in the morning", said the watch' Mark mused to himself. Tiring himself out wouldn't dial the clock back an hour, so he'd just have to try for ten. North Havyland was actually pretty dead this time of morning, which had, unfortunately, been something he'd been late enough to notice more than a few times.

    "God, how much is another new car gonna set me back. Three thousand on the ground floor? Yeah, sounds about right... Those Praetorians better not steal this one and trash it, too. I swear, bastards are gonna take my house from out under my feet one of these days," Mark muttered to himself as he walked." They'll hold out their shiny ass badge an' go 'I apologize for the inconvenience, sir, but we need this more than you.' ... Aw, who am I kidding. Even these guys have standards, right?"

    When he arrived at work, that is to say, the offices of the local "Statistics, Logistics, and Funny Facts Corporation" or whatever they called themselves, Mark wasn't greeted at all. Usually there was someone, a security guard or a higher up, to tell him he was late and his shirt was untucked. It was routine, daily. And today, missing. Even though it was not a kind gesture, to be sure, it was still worrying for it to not happen. Mostly undaunted, Mark made his way to his grey, empty cubical. 'Just another cog in this machine...' he thought. 'Ya know, I wonder why they don't let us decorate our cubes. Must be "To increase efficiency" or some shit. I've got no fucking clue how "bland and depressing" can make us work harder.' Looking to his right, Mark peered into an equally bland and depressing black basket. Having the unofficial job title of "Accountant, Web Admin, and Server Repair Dude" meant that, by this time of day, he's have a shit-ton of work to do. But there was only one paper in the basket today. An omen, to be sure. Just more trash to throw onto the ever so large shit pile that has been today. The paper was face down, but Mark could just barely make out two lines of text near the top. Turning it over, he found what could very well have been the worst eight things to happen to him that day. The paper read," Please, see me in my office. Derrick Mortar"

    Derrick was Mark's boss. In fact, he was everyone's boss. District Manager, managing whatever the hell it was the company did in the district. Moreover, he was a money grubber and a power hungerer, a king among men, and he sure knew and flaunted that, and still he wanted more. Mark would rather cut himself up and be thrown to the lions than to see him in his office. But Mark had never received a message like this one. It could well have been that the two events were not entirely dissimilar. Slowly, he raised himself from his desk, tucked in his shirt, straightened his tie, balanced his chi, and made his way to the boss man's office. No one in the area even noticed him go.

    " Ah, good morning Mr. Anders," greeted Mortar with that nasally, whiny voice of his and a malicious smile on his face, " Late as usual, I see. Please, take a seat." Behind him, smiling equally as maliciously, was a man Mark had never seen before. He stood tall, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans that had been re-colored a drab grey and yellow. He had no hair, facial or otherwise, which gave Mark a clear enough view of his mouth to see plenty of empty spaces where teeth had once been. "Today, I've decided it was time for an impromptu performance review. You services to us here at Mortar and Mortar's Statistical Analysis and Criminal Observations-" 'So THAT'S what they're called... wait, but there's only one "Mortar"... ' "- over these past few years have been... invaluable... " he grimaced as he said that. It was clearly forced. "... However, in recent times, with San Paro's failing local economy and increased crime rate, it has come to my attention that a few employees may need to be... outsourced... oh, who am I kidding. They need to be fired. Do you see where I'm going with this, Anders?"

    "I think so, sir." 'Do you want me to pack my bags and flip you off now or after we're done with this powwow?'
    "Good. I'll get straight to the point then. You're late most every day, you're too often insubordinate and angry, and you aren't performing up to my expectations."

    "Wait, what about that last bit? Mr. Mortar, you have me balancing books, maintaining the company site and some of its servers, talking to customers, and doing a bit of everything short of backflipping in the front lobby. Surely I'm performing well above and beyond what I was hired to do."

    Derrick frowned at this fairly logical sentiment. "On the contrary, other employees in your department are performing extremely well, where, compared to them, you're doing extremely poorly."

    "Well, maybe that's because you don't have them doing everyone else's jobs." Mark grimaced as Mortar marked some things down on a sheet in front of him, not even blinking at his statement. "more of that insubordination I was talking about, Mr. Anders. We hired you expecting you to do what we hired you to do-" '... wut.' "-, but how were we to know that multitasking was beyond you. I find that while you have been working... faithfully for us..." Mortar forced that statement, too. It was becoming ever clearer how much patience and respect he lacked. "... for these past few years, you continually prove to be either too inept or too unruly to work for me. So it is with a veryvery sad heart that I must conclude your employment here. " He stamped down on the impromptu performance report he'd written up, the red ink leaving a bloody trail on the flesh of the paper. It was all over with. "Officer Bentley, please escort Mr. Anders out."

    The man in the street clothes grunted happily and stepped around the desk to grab Mark by the shoulder. "Come on fatass. You're on your way out the door. Don't let it bite your hand when you feed it." 'Does this muscle even know what words are coming out of his mouth?'

    "What? ... Wait, no... You can't do this to me! Not yet! You've had me doing three times the work of anyone else here! I've worked my ass of for this damned company for four years now! Other people here have told me how great a job I've done! I work harder than anyone here and they all appreciate it. And now what!? Yer gonna toss me on my ass and say it was a good fight!?"

    "If you want, I'm sure the nice officer here can arrange just that. Mark, if you want the cold, hard truth, here it is. The Praetorians have agreed to protect my corporation to the extent of their abilities. They said they needed room for me to hire several of their men for the price of one of mine to do more of the same work, as well as for better armed guards to protect against the ever-increasing rate of crime in this area of town." That's when it hit Mark. Something had been nagging him in the back of his brain about this Bentley dude. Hanging from a chain around his neck was a symbol he'd seen all too often. The Praetorians' feature logo.

    "Now, if there are no other questions, I have actual business to attend to. Good luck to you, Mr. Anders."

    And that was it. Mark, too stunned and frightened to argue any more found himself practically dragged out of the building by Bentley and a couple of other 'Torians. When the left him standing there by the side of the road, Mark found that a black cloud had rolled over the city, and it was raining.

    It was raining hard. So maybe the day wasn't all bad.

    ((So, yeah, this isn't everything, but I'm strapped for time, so I hope this will do.))

    DevilDolly
    Thumbing Home
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    Re: As Mad As Hell (Part I)

    Post  DevilDolly on Mon Aug 23, 2010 12:42 am



    Last edited by DevilDolly on Fri Sep 24, 2010 5:37 am; edited 1 time in total
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    IcePho3nix
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    Re: As Mad As Hell (Part I)

    Post  IcePho3nix on Mon Aug 23, 2010 9:58 pm

    DevilDolly wrote:( me likey! )

    (A-thank you!)

    Delinquent
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    Re: As Mad As Hell (Part I)

    Post  Delinquent on Mon Aug 23, 2010 10:00 pm

    ((I have not had time to read this, and our fearless leader has been moving into a new place and working more. I will make sure to read this tomorrow.))
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    Eleutherophobia
    Bad Liver and a Broken Heart
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    Re: As Mad As Hell (Part I)

    Post  Eleutherophobia on Mon Aug 23, 2010 10:50 pm

    (Really, very creative. Like the impetus of a great journey, seeing the hero's initial dilemma. My interest is piqued for more. Welcome to the Rain Dogs! Please contact Delinquent, Navron or myself in-game to join our ranks.)



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    IcePho3nix
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    Re: As Mad As Hell (Part I)

    Post  IcePho3nix on Mon Aug 23, 2010 11:19 pm

    (Thanks heaps guys. I never thought I'd get such a response from a story about a guy getting fired. More to come at a later date... Well, more of this story, not more guys getting laid off.)

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    Re: As Mad As Hell (Part I)

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