MBA - Moron$ Ba$ and A$ PG Version

by Jeff Blackwell

  Chapter Eighteen

  Don’t Ask Me No Questions

  “What a numb nuts. This dude could make watching grass die exciting.”

  “Yeah, I know Earl. He’s a bit of a stiff, but we need to give him a chance to show us what he can do. And keep your voice down. I think he’s about to begin.”

  We were sitting with The Circle in the conference room awaiting Elwood’s first financial status update. He had been with us for a little over thirty days. No one in the plant had seen much of him. I noticed that he spent most of his days in his office staring at his computer screen and making furious scribbles on a yellow legal pad. I guess he didn’t care for my advice about talking to the seasoned vets.

  Chuck kept shooting Earl and me his best glowering Tony Soprano look. I was pretty sure that meant to shut our yaps and pay attention.

  Elwood slinked up to the overhead projector with a pile of Power Point transparencies at least a foot thick. I forced a knuckle deep into my mouth to stifle the groan that was traveling up my throat.

  “This chart shows the year to year results for Woodland Enterprises in key financial areas over the past ten years. As you can clearly see…”

  Not so much. His chart must have had three hundred numbers on it about the size of a flea’s pimple in a rainbow of colors with more arrows than flew at Custer. And this was just chart number one. Elwood said something about streamlining approval processes by rewriting our Manual of Authorities. God, better him than me! And thank you, God, for making dweebs that enjoy that kind of drudgery. He droned on and on about this index and that emerging trend. My eyes glazed over and went a little bit crossed. Chuck nodded his head up and down like one of those plastic dogs on the back deck of a car as this torture continued. But I was pretty sure that he had no clue what Elwood was prattling on about. I looked over at Earl and was amazed that he was gazing with rapt attention. However, when I followed his line of sight, I noticed that he was focusing through the front window watching a vigorous game of acorn keep away that two squirrels were engaged in amongst the colorful foliage on the lawn. I had to admit that it was far more entertaining than Elwood.

  “So we must make immediate reductions in our cost structure. That will be my goal over the next several months. I am proposing a ten percent cut by year end. This is the only path to achieving cost parity with our main competitors.”

  Ok, that got me torn away from the nut war waging outside. “Elwood, why do we need to achieve cost parity, if there is such a thing, with our competitors? A prime driver of our higher cost profile (I can talk this stuff when I have to) is our production of X-400. Raw materials, labor and processing costs are much higher for it. But, since we are the sole supplier and it is in high demand, that’s where we generate the bulk of our revenues. The more of it we make, the more money we make. And we have no competition for X-400. Capeesh? So, how does it make sense to look at results only on a cost basis? Shouldn’t we be trending costs against revenues and margins?”

  “I am not taking questions at this time.”

  The quiet insolence with which he flatly stated that was the match that ignited my smoldering tinder. I am afraid I lost it a bit.

  “What? How can you possibly bore us for over an hour with this claptrap and not accept any questions? I can’t believe…”

  Perhaps if I hadn’t turned bright red, jumped out of my chair and threw the paper in front of me containing my non-existent notes into the air as I exploded, Chuck might have let me continue.

  “Enough, Mick,” he thundered. “Sit down and shut up. Elwood is trying to make improvements in our results. He’s been studying our financial position day in and day out since he has been here. I don’t think you can say the same.”

  “But…”

  “Utt Utt. What did I just say? Ok, that’s better. Elwood, I took you on a probationary basis. I want to give you a chance to succeed. If you can help us achieve a ten percent cost reduction by year end, I’ll be impressed. That will certainly help the year-end bonuses for everyone which are looking pretty bleak right now. Cost reductions will, perhaps, put us in a good position to get through these challenging economic times. We WILL support you in your efforts. Right, Mick? I said, ‘RIGHT MICK?’”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ok, I had been severely spanked and put in the corner. It may have been my imagination, but I think I detected a slight smirk on Elwood’s otherwise blank canvas of a face. If it was truly there, that would be the first emotion I had ever seen him exhibit.

  And so began the great Elwood slash and burn our costs campaign.

  We all whined a bit when the office trash pick-up was reduced from everyday to two times a week. That wasn’t so bad after I convinced Earl to not leave his banana peels and shrimp shells in his trash can overnight. Phew! Using lower wattage light bulbs in the office fixtures might reduce costs but would probably eventually result in eye stress medical claims. I would swear that he contracted with a wood chip and corn cob factory to resupply our toilet paper. When the donuts and free coffee disappeared at meetings, some of us were on the verge of an armed uprising.

  However, it did seem that our costs over the next quarter started to trend down. When Elwood made his mind numbing presentation at the next quarterly meeting (sans caloric or liquid refreshments), he had a chart we could actually understand that showed a seven percent cost reduction over the last three months. For an operation our size, that’s not just chicken scratch. Could we really have saved that much on Charmin and Krispy Kremes? While my mind explored the possibilities of the lack of one reducing the usage of the other, Elwood continued with a projection that, with his program and continued diligence, we could achieve a whopping twelve percent reduction over the year.

  “Outstanding!” Chuck was way too excited for someone lacking gratis caffeine and sugar. “This drops right to the bottom line and directly into our bonus checks! The Shareholder is going to dance naked on Main Street when he hears this.”

  While I had never seen The Shareholder, this was not a mental image I wanted to conjure. Never one to be shy, I had to ask, “Elwood, how the Sam Hill did we save that much on wattage, refuse and treat deprivation? It doesn’t seem possible.”

  “I am not taking questions at this time.”

  As I started to rise from my chair, I felt Chuck’s hairy palm on my shoulder. “Mick, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  “How about up the rear?” I thought, luckily, rather than said.

  “These numbers are fantastic. I want you guys to be celebrating not grumbling. I also want you guys to bond like a real team. Mick, why don’t you and Earl take Elwood golfing at my club this weekend? It’s on me, not the company, Elwood.”

  Blank stare from Elwood. Drop jawed “you gotta be out of your ever loving mind” glare from me.

  “Be sure to bring the scorecard into the office on Monday so I can see how much fun y’all had.”

  I knew Chuck was a tough businessman. I never knew he was a practicing disciple of the Marquis De Sade. I could just hear Earl saying something like, “This is the biggest disaster since the Japanese invaded Poland.”