Saturday, 26 May 2012

In Which We Go To Meet The Boss

I don't know what it is about these people and their suits. The handlers that is. You see enough of them and you get the impression it's a kind of fucking uniform. Real corporate.

Anyways, here comes the new boss, same as the old boss

I've visited the Cafe loop before, the new year's thing was nice up until people forgot that they were supposed to be having a good time. They've all got a different sort of... flavour to them. Loops, I mean.

The Boss, Joseph, Sherlock, whatever you want to call him, is sitting at a table in the back waist deep in paperwork, scowling. Off to a fantastic start. Straighten the tie up. Cough, good plan.

We manage to make what passes for polite conversation for all of a minute before getting this gem

"I'm not your boss. Ever seen the Tall Gentleman for yourself, Lister? That's your boss. And that's the funniest joke of all."

Now, I've seen old Tall, Gaunt and Faceless. He likes the woods well enough, doesn't he? You don't really forget seeing him, but I've seen him often enough.

"You're the man with the papers. You're the one that gives the orders. Way I see it that makes you the boss, boss."

"I've read your file. Quite the up and coming Agent it seems. But you... requested to be transferred here, to my understanding."

"Some sort of problem boss?

"Simply wondering about your motivations, Lister." He gives this sort of grin. It's not friendly. "Everyone knows that each division is at odds with the others. We all almost seem to practice a silly sort of elitism. So you'll have to forgive my confusion - but why would such an asset choose to head a squad like this...?"

It's true. I asked for the transfer here. It was too quiet in that little corner that I was stuck in, and that's all you'll hear from me on that subject.

"You want the honest answer or the shit one boss?"
Whatever you might hear, some of us who don't deal in this blog garbage do actually keep our ears to the ground. Surprising, I know.
"You decide. But I assume you've been told enough about me to know which choice is the right one, and which choice is going to make working under me quite possibly the worst experience of your entire life thus far."He's read my file, I've been... is briefed the right word? I think so, in any case, briefed regarding Sherlock.
"Well, when you put it like that I don't rightly believe that there's what you might call a 'right' answer."

I take a seat at this point, and start drinking, dry throat is unpleasant as I'm sure you know. "I mean, if I give you the shit answer odds are you being you would know right? And the honest answer doesn't quite seem like your thing. So, if you don't mind boss I think I'd rather keep my mouth shut." A little more drinking. "If it's all the same to you."

"..." He stands up, walks past me "Don't let the rest of the squad intimidate you. I think you'll fit in here just fine."

"Well, the creepy fellow's been transfered, as I understand it, and the angry one's a turncoat. So I don't think I should have any problems with the rest."

"Ronin doesn't like anybody." That, at least, gets a bit of a laugh. Which is good, last handler I had was a humourless, religious son of a bitch. "But he usually does as he's told. Just keep your wits about you. That being said..." And he some how manages to pull a houdini with my hip flask. Right out of my damn hand. Haven't seen that trick before.

"You've been promoted. Act like it. If any of them die, I'll be making sure you get the harshest hearing possible." He gets real quiet. Very serious. "Understood...?"

"Clear as mud boss." I get up and get ready to leave. "Only, could I have the water back?"

He stops for a second, and brings the flask up like it's just been dipped in raw sewage. So I take it off him and put it back where it belongs. Useful thing, a good hip flask, and I'm kind of fond of this one. It's like a good knife. You take care of it you've got nothing to worry about.


"I'm expecting your completed transfer paperwork on my desk early tomorrow morning. Otherwise?" He didn't like mentioning the next part. "Make yourself at... home."

I think this will do just fine.


  1. Well, it's a pleasure to meet ya' Lister. I hope things work out well enough for you.

    1. Wish I could say the same.
      No. Wait. That's a lie.

  2. Am I to understand this man transferred across a division to head baker squad?

    1. Got it in one. Good job.

    2. How peculiar. Although, I'm just echoing "Joseph"'s sentiments at this point aren't I?

    3. Do all of you blog-types spend this much time pointing out the obvious?

    4. 5-10 seconds? I assume so.

    5. Blog-type? Would that be weak to bug-type?

    6. No. It would be weak to Grass type. Specifically a Tree associated type. You might know it. Be very familiar with it. Can you guess what it is?

  3. What kind of a name is Lister? A variant on Lester? Do you like lists? Or are you just mostly mouthwash?