by M. D. Cooper
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Alawston
Website: http://andrewlawston.blogspot.co.uk/
Krample Co: A Galaxmas Story
by Drew Cordell
This year, Krample will finally thwart Galactic Claus.
Krample is the self-proclaimed evil CEO of Krample Co, a well-renowned toy company in the Jolian system.
Each year, Krample sets out on a quest to thwart Galactic Claus and become the official toy provider for Galaxmas. With an increasingly disgruntled board of directors, Krample must take drastic measures to secure the future of his company and defeat Galactic Claus once and for all.
Join Krample, a trusted advisor and cookie-baking expert, a Kolithian secretary, and a pepperoni/AI framework expert as they set out on a not-so-epic Galaxmas quest filled with lots of pew.
1
“Prices are up seventy-five percent across the board. We anticipate strong sales volume in the coming months and do not think Galactic Clause will have the means to produce enough presents for the people of the system once we enact our plan. He will fall, and Krample Co will be set to earn the system’s bid for the position,” Milton concluded, setting down his holopad and looking up at Krample.
Krample seemed to consider this, scratching his chin. “You anticipate strong sales, but have they not dropped off the past two quarters? Our stock valuation is hurting, and it’s not like we can disclose our evil plans to the public.”
“Sales have dropped,” Milton agreed, “But this is to be expected. Retailers are stockpiling and hoarding our toys, selling them for far more than most are willing to pay.”
Krample frowned, deep creases forming across his forehead. “Because the people still think Galactic Claus will be able to deliver in three months time.”
“It’s possible,” Milton said. “But once the media picks up the story we fabricated, people will stop paying their taxes in fear of not getting what they want for Galaxmas. Even if he wanted to, Galactic Claus cannot deliver to those who are not reported as law-abiding citizens of the system.”
“Good,” Krample said. Milton felt the tension fade away. Krample appeared happy, and things were going according to plan. “How long until my evil cookies are done?”
“Not long, sire. You know I like to take my time and cook them the old-fashioned way. Plasma ovens make them taste like rocket fuel even if they cook in seconds.”
“Yes, you’re right,” Krample grimaced. “But the smell is driving me crazy.”
Milton had tripled the batch size of the recipe which he kept so closely guarded. There would be enough cookies for everyone to have some at the Krample Co board meeting later that afternoon, lifting evil spirits and boosting sinister productivity.
“The last thing before I return to the kitchen is the demonstration of last year’s funkiller in action,” Milton said, motioning a robot standing adjacent to one of the massive doors of the evil business lair. In reality, the evil business lair was actually just the top-floor office of the Krample Co building.
Another robot walked forward holding one of Krample Co’s most popular toys, the Robotronic X400. It set it down on the floor and activated the toy. Milton smiled in anticipation as the miniature robot flew around the room, flashing with colorful lights and calling out its signature voicelines. It was such a wonderful toy, Milton thought, even as it exploded into a cloud of not so harmless vapor. The cloud imploded in itself, and all that was left from the catalytic reaction was a puddle of water and a small plastic card.
Krample picked it up and read the text. ‘I have taken your amazing Krample Co product. By the way, you’re not getting a present from me this year.
- Sincerely, the old, soon to be replaced Galactic Claus.’
“And this will happen to all Robotronic X400 units in the system once we pull the switch?” Krample asked, walking over and sticking a finger in the puddle after setting the card down.
“Even better, sire. When we pull this switch, all our products from last year will initiate this process. The best part: they will only do it when no one is looking. As soon as the board approves it, people will be flocking to the stores for toys for their children, thinking that Galactic Claus was responsible for the thefts and losing any remaining faith they have in him. When that happens, we will submit our yearly bid for the position and you will be crowned Krample Claus. The hard part will be getting the board to approve it though.”
Krample had a growing look of satisfaction in his glowing green eyes. “And the products for the adults? The entertainment gaming consoles?”
Milton smiled. “Let’s just say people are going to find themselves without the Krample Co products they love, and they’re going to be blaming Galactic Claus for what they will perceive as theft.” The manual timer shaped like an egg on Milton’s belt started to ring. He had fetched it from a greasy flea market tacked onto an overloaded cube station on his way back from Tilus, and so far it was worth every cred-bit.
“You have done well, Milton. I am very impressed with what you have accomplished with your secret project while I tended to day-to-day operations. I’ll admit I was nervous about intentionally limiting supply and revenue, but I see now that this will finally be the year we defeat Galactic Claus. Now, I do believe it is time for the evil cookies.”
Milton returned with a platter filled with what he had spent days preparing. The cookies had an oatmeal base, with cinnamon and sugar, and chunks of gummy guba berry resin. A robot followed close behind Milton, carrying two empty glasses and a large pitcher of blue milk to wash down the sugary pastries.
Krample stopped himself from diving into the cookies right away. “Did you bring the sprinkles?”
Milton handed him the canister. “You couldn’t have evil cookies without the sprinkles, sire.”
“Three to five per cookie is all it takes,” Krample agreed as he painstakingly dispensed his sprinkles, careful to avoid duplications in the shapes. There were frowny faces, and skulls and crossbones, vials of poison, and laser guns. Satisfied with his first cookie, Krample dunked it into his glass of milk and devoured it in a single bite. “Incredible as always, Milton.”
“Thank you, sire.”
“Let’s get ready for the board meeting. I can’t wait to show them our plans. I think we’ll finally thwart Galactic Claus this year.”
***
Milton had drilled him for hours, going over the likely scenarios again and again. The board would not be happy with the drop in sales, they would not be so understanding as to the master plan of thwarting Galactic Claus and the financial benefits such an accomplishment entailed. Milton tried his best to emulate the harshest member of the board, Bargland Midas, a rotund and critical businessman as shrewd and harsh as any in the galaxy. He had strong-armed his way onto the board, pooling the financial might of the investors he had in his pocket. His motives rarely aligned with Krample’s, and it was no secret that the two of rarely got along. At best, they usually managed a distant tolerance of one another.
“Remember,” Milton coached. “Don’t lash out at him. Say you understand Bargland’s criticism of your management. Sentiment and traditions will be lost on him, but how you handle the situation will influence some board members who are more likely to sympathize with our cause and see the benefits of what we’re trying to do. You need cold logic, and you need to tell Bargland the facts of how we will actually defeat Galactic Claus this year, how Krample Co will displace him entirely and win the bid for the Galaxmas festivities and manage all festive deliveries in the Jolian system. If Krample Co can win the system, it can eventually win the galaxy.”
“So I shouldn’t tell him he is a toad and doesn’t understand how evil business works?” Krample asked, feeling a smile pull at his lips.
“No, you shouldn’t. But I’ll try to soften him up a bit with some of my cookies. Holding the evil sprinkles, of course.”
“Of course,” Krample agreed. “Once he sees the display of our funkiller initiative in last year�
��s products, he will understand the master plan despite the current tensions in our distributor and retailer relationships.”
Milton nodded. “And you’ll agree not to threaten to wrap him up in Galaxmas lights, pour asteroid nog on him, and cover him in tinsel like you did last year?”
Krample laughed, recalling the memory. “You should have seen the look on his face. I should have done it though. Would’ve served him right.” At least half of the board members, minus Bargland, of course, had found humor in the ordeal. Krample was surprised he hadn’t gone through with it, actually.
Milton wasn’t laughing. “Sire, it’s imperative that you do not threaten him or lash out, however witty and creatively evil your planned response. We have failed nine consecutive years in a row to grow the value of our company through the attempted takedown of Galactic Claus. It is going to be tricky to get the budget for our annual attempt to take over Galaxmas this year, and if we do manage to get it, I fear it will be our last opportunity.”
“I’ll convince them like I always do, and unlike the previous attempts, we will replace Galactic Claus for good.”
2
“You’re trying to convince us this drop in sales is intentional?” Bargland demanded through a mouth full of cookies. If Milton’s cookies were softening him up and brightening his mood, Krample certainly couldn’t tell. “Your duty to the stakeholders of this company is to maximize revenue, to grow the value and revenue of this firm over the longer term. Holding eighteen percent of this company’s stock should align your motivations to this goal, Mr. Krample. Yet here you sit telling me that you have intentionally sabotaged our sales and the value of this company over the most important fiscal quarter of the year.”
Krample took a deep breath. “I am well aware of that, Mr. Midas—I love this company, and I want nothing more than to see it succeed in ways that exceed even your wildest dreams. There is some risk, I would agree with you, but the expected value of this endeavor is astronomical. The intentional drop in sales now will result in returns unlike anything you have seen in any of the many companies you assist through your board of trustee positions. Think of how your investors will cherish your hard work in securing such incredible profit for them. This is the year we win the bid and win the rights to Krample Claus for good.”
“You would be so arrogant as to change the name of Galactic Claus even if we win the bid?” Bargland demanded. The man was already sweating, and he looked like a toad, missing only the scaly skin.
“Dearest Bargland, I would like to remind you that I am the founder of this company. I built it from the cargo hold of my old Hopper frigate which I remind you wasn’t even rated for jumping through system hyperlanes. It’s only fair that the branding that got us this far is used system-wide once we win. People know and love the Krample brand as is reflected on our balance sheet, correct?”
“There is value to the brand,” Giles injected. “But people seem to love the Galactic Claus brand more, and your efforts, with the waste of a significant portion of this firm’s resources, have been unable to track the company providing the yearly presents for this system. Even if we were to try to buyout this faceless and anonymous company, we believe your hostile efforts against them, exceeding the limits we have given, have destroyed any chances of making that happen.” Unlike the toad-like Bargland, Giles was tall and thin, skeletal almost. They were a juxtaposing pair, but Giles never seemed to leave Bargland’s side, and Krample couldn’t remember a single time when Giles had disagreed with him publicly on any matter concerning the board.
“It doesn’t matter,” Krample said. He was struggling to suppress his anger. “You saw the demonstration. When all of our products are destroyed, they will blame Galactic Claus. People won’t pay their taxes. The Jolian system will be forced to displace Galactic Claus, deal with the negative PR, and announce the winner of the new bid—Krample Co.”
“And if we have a system-wide revolt? What if this gets traced back to us? We will be finished!” Bargland bellowed, hiccuping loudly—probably from eating too many cookies and drinking too much of the blue milk. The hiccup sounded like a croak, and Krample could even see the man’s neck bulge like an air sac as he tried to suppress the action.
Krample closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath to keep from cracking a joke about it. It took all of his willpower, but he managed, opening his eyes and deciding to address the issue head on with logic as Milton had suggested. “This is the year we become Krample Claus. This will work. When everyone blames Galactic Claus for the disappearance of their Krample Co products, they won’t be as excited to pay their taxes. The Jolian system will have no choice but to jump on the matter and announce that due to extreme allegations, and no evidence pointing back to us, I might add, that they are implementing a new Galactic Claus immediately. We are the only toy company with the production capacity to meet the bid’s requirements, think about it. You act like you don’t want to win this bid—like selling billions of additional units every year wouldn’t grow the value of this company.”
“That isn’t good enough,” Gholand Bril said from across the table. Krample normally didn’t have any problems with the woman, but it appeared even she was against him now despite the facts which were so clearly presented.
Bargland set a cookie down on his plate, glaring at Krample from across the table. “We do not have the budget or the desire to implement such a dangerous feature in our products this year. It cannot be done. You need to fix this distribution problem immediately. If you—”
Krample cut him off. “It already has been done, dearest Bargland, and we are still profitable despite the intentional drop in sales. I took matters into my own hands when it was clear the board would only hold me back.” Perhaps that was going too far. Krample knew his snide remark wouldn’t go unrefuted, but this had to be done. For once, he had the upper hand over the board.
Bargland fixed him with a look of anger and disbelief. “Krample, you’ve gone too far. This never should have happened without the approval of the board—which you know we never would have supported. If it gets out that this function is embedded in all of our products, we’re done for. I don’t see any other option other than to issue a system-wide recall of all products manufactured last year. We’re going to see a huge loss across the board, but it might keep the company from going under.”
“This is unbelievable,” Gholand agreed, shaking her head.
Bargland took a deep breath. “Once this fiscal year is over, we will ask you to step down as CEO. Resign so you can keep your dignity. We shouldn’t even be extending that courtesy to you given the circumstances.”
Milton shook his head, but Krample was already pulling out his tablet. “I’ll make things very easy for you. A system-wide recall of all of our products would ruin this company, my plan won’t. At this point, I think you just want first dibs of our assets as this company is dissolved. It is no secret you own a large share of one of our competitors, Mr. Bargland.”
He narrowed his eyes from across the table. “What are you insinuating, you slime? All I want is to maximize my investments for my investors. I would never purposefully go about diminishing the value of any asset in my portfolio. You, on the other hand, seem excited to destroy everything you have built. You are unhinged—delusional.”
Krample produced the tablet from beneath the table, punching in the master command Milton had given him before anyone could stop him. “There. All Krample products manufactured in the last year will be destroyed within the hour, replaced by the note blaming Galactic Claus. There will be no Krample Co. recalls. We will become Krample Claus before the year concludes. And when that happens, I expect a formal apology from you, Bargland.”
“You slime chugging asteroid fodder glirkilite!” Bargland bellowed. The other board members were yelling now too. Any comfort from Milton’s cookies had dissolved into a rage-induced chaos.
“We are displacing you as CEO immediately on temporary suspension. If we are not Galactic Claus
by the end of the fiscal year, you are gone for good and your shares will be force-bought as detailed in your contract—if they’re even still worth anything,” Bargland shouted, his face bulging and boiling into a brilliant hue of purple. “In the meantime, you are banned from the use of company property, your company cards will be canceled, and you are not to make an appearance to the public about what you have done. We will be running damage control and try to get on top of this before it can leak that we were the ones responsible. You are not to leave Thelas under any circumstance. GET OUT!”
“Get the cookies, they don’t get anymore,” Krample hissed to Milton as they stood. Milton dashed forward, snatching the plate still stacked with cookies.
Krample, along with Milton hustled out of the office, slamming the door behind them.
“Sire, that did not go well. What are we going to do now?” At least Milton hadn’t turned against him—he still seemed to believe in the plan even though Krample was forced to make a brash decision.
“We’re going to see this through. There’s one person that will know how to find Galactic Claus. I think we’ll find Galactic Claus will be a lot more willing to talk now with the stories that are about to break on the news feeds.”
“Who? Our company cards are canceled by now and we have no budget to get this done, we don’t even have access to a company ship. You heard Bargland, we can’t leave the planet or you could lose your position for good.”
“It’s okay, I still have the old Hopper stored in my garage, and I will fund this endeavor with my own finances. We don’t need company property or assets to accomplish this, but we are leaving Thelas right now.”
“Who are we going to?” Milton repeated, his voice thin. “Any further disobedience to the board’s decision could result in permanent termination of your position with the company. It’s all outlined in the organizational code.”
