“Don’t even joke about that, Jake!” screamed Alexis. “You’d DO that for me? Seriously? O-M-G . . . you’re the best brother ever! When do I start?”
Hmm? Not following. Waaaiiit a minute . . . I get it. More games from my crafty sister.
“Alexis, are you sure?” asked Mom. “Don’t have Jake get you this job if you are not serious.”
“MOM! I couldn’t be more serious. It sounds incredible. And with Jake recommending me, I’m totally in,” said Alexis, smiling at me.
Okay, big sister. You got it! She could fool Mom and Dad but not me. The next morning at work, I went directly to Michael’s office.
“Dude, what’s the deal with us hiring middle-schoolers?” I asked.
“Ms. Cane’s idea. I had nothing to do with it. She told me after she sent the fliers over,” responded Michael.
“So who decides which middle-school kids to hire?” I asked.
“I guess that’s me. And it goes to the first one stupid enough to want it,” said Michael. “I don’t think we’ll get many interested kids.”
“You might get one. Alexis wants to work here,” I said.
“Oh man! Why?! I know she’s your sister, but come on!” pleaded Michael. “Every time she sees me all she does is practice her new karate moves. Do you know what it’s like to get hit by her?”
Yeah, I knew exactly what it was like—I had spent eleven years of living in fear of constant welts and bruises. I also knew Alexis hated to clean even more than she disliked sharing her Galactic Brownies. She’d be a no-show for sure.
As Michael and I laughed about the thought of Alexis joining Fur Cuttery, Inc., Ms. Cane arrived looking extra grumpy.
“Bosses! My office. PRONTO!” screamed Ms. Cane.
As we all scrambled to find a place to sit, Ms. Cane cut right to the chase.
“I’m a little depressed after meeting with Grandmaster Cash over here,” said Ms. Cane, pointing at Ajit.
“Really?! I thought everything was fine. You’re getting seven to eight appointments a day,” I said.
Ms. Cane just glared at me.
“That’s not enough. Which brings me to why I called everyone in here,” said Ms. Cane, pointing right at me. “Did YOU actually cancel one of my appointments last week? A Mrs. Larsen? Ring a bell?”
“Yeah. That’s the lady with the gibbon, right?” I answered.
“Exactly. Where did you get the authority to cancel my appointments? Aren’t you the Boss of Buzz? In charge of GETTING me appointments?” asked Ms. Cane.
“Yes?” I muttered. “But a gibbon? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”
“Listen, Buzzy. Under NO circumstances are you to cancel anything. I don’t care if it’s a hyperactive baby T. REX, I’ll groom it!” shouted Ms. Cane.
“Do you have ANY idea how much that hunk-of-junk truck cost me?” asked Ms. Cane.
I did not.
“The next time you decide to take money out of my pocket, Jake, get ready to join Mitch and DW moneybags on the cleaning crew,” said Ms. Cane.
Oookay! Please . . . please . . . please let someone call in looking to have their newly adopted wolverine bathed and massaged.
“On the topic of making more money, I’ve been thinking a lot about how Fur Cuttery, Inc., can do just that,” said Ajit.
Interested, Ms. Cane motioned for Ajit to continue.
“Lately, we’ve been brainstorming on how to make more money from each customer. You know, in addition to the basic cut, wash, and trim services.”
“Is there a point to this?” interrupted Ms. Cane.
“I think my team and I have come up with some sweet new moneymaking ideas that I can show you on my iPad,” said Ajit.
“I present to you, the future of FUR CUTTERY, INC.,” announced Ajit. “Americans spend sixty-one billion per year on their pets. We need to get more of that money.”
“I like the sound of that, Grandmaster Cash! Tell me more,” pleaded Ms. Cane sarcastically.
“Okay. . . here we go.
“Idea number one—pet apparel: coats, scarves, sweaters, shoes, sunglasses.
“Get it? Owners treat their dogs like people. A high-end pet-clothing company is what we need to do.” Ajit scanned the audience for reactions. Nothing.
“Don’t like that one? I have more!” assured Ajit.
“Idea number two—customized cuts. Owners like to treat their dogs like people, so let’s make them look like people, too.
“I’m talking crazy dye jobs, colored pedicures, dreadlocks, piercings, Mohawks . . . off-the-chain cuts and customizations!” roared Ajit enthusiastically.
Again, silence.
“Okay. Forget that. You’re going to love this next one. Ready?
“Idea number three: Parrot-Harmony—a dating service for parrots!
“Think about it. Parrots are one of the few species of birds that can mate for life. But they’re not going to find the loves of their parrot lives sitting in cages. We set up a web-based dating site . . .”
Ms. Cane interupted. “Thank you, Ajit.”
“Jake has done a great job getting us off the ground. But he doesn’t have the creativity to take this company to the top,” stated Ajit.
Hello! Did he just say that? Thanks a lot, Benedict Arnold. His betrayal was certainly not going to get Ajit any props from his work “homies.”
“Ohhhhh, Ajit. So confused are we. Happy not counting money and paying bills, me think,” said Ms. Cane. I made a mental note of her Yoda-AWESOMENESS.
Ms. Cane quickly explained to Ajit that he was irreplaceable as Grandmaster Cash.
That afternoon Ms. Cane arranged for the Queen of Clean to give Ajit a hands-on tutorial on proper de-fleaing techniques and toenail clipping. Ajit received Ms. Cane’s message loud and clear.
Stepping out of the Hive, it was almost lunchtime. I was rumbly in my tumbly. Yeah! I still sometimes think in Winnie-the-Pooh terms. But only in my internal voice. You never know who’s listening. People are so quick to judge nowadays.
But there’s nothing wrong with Pooh Bear. That dude’s legit, and I can definitely relate to him: He’s always hungry, doesn’t like to wear pants, and is constantly looking over his shoulder out of fear of being bounced on by that psycho Tigger. Sound familiar?
Heading toward the door, I saw Michael standing next to his desk, so I went over to see if he was ready to eat. Surprisingly, he could still go to lunch like a regular student without being mauled by the lacrosse-loving student body. And yes, his head still fit between the lockers on either side of the hallway—barely.
“Can you believe MC Ajit? Nice sneak attack. Honestly, I didn’t see that coming,” I said.
“Well, this is business. At least he’s competitive and going after what he wants one hundred percent,” said Michael.
“What the does that mean?” I questioned.
“What do you mean, ‘What does that mean?’” asked Michael.
“Sounds like you have something to say. What? I’m not competitive? I don’t give one hundred percent?” I asked.
“Man, you’re sensitive. Forget I said anything,” said Michael.
“No, I wouldn’t forget. Looks like the A team turned you into a real jerk. You know what your problem is, Mr. CE-YO?” I said, poking my finger in Michael’s face.
But before I could explain exactly how I was feeling about my former best friend, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I felt instantly uneasy. There was an evil, unnatural presence at Fur Cuttery, Inc., What was happening?
“WHERE’S JAKEY?!” announced Alexis as she strolled into class. Tigger was in the building.
Since the middle school was next door, and they had half days on Wednesday, Alexis decided to stop by and introduce herself.
Spotting me from across the room, Alexis did the arm-exten
ded, long-distance air hug and rushed forward. Like a mom scooping up her toddler from the pre-K sandbox, Alexis let out an embarrassing “THERE HE IS!” She immediately swung me off the ground in a bear-hug death grip.
Noticing Michael out of the corner of her eye, Alexis quickly released me and let out an equally fake-sounding “O-M-G!” and moved in for yet another suffocating embrace.
But the years of Tang Soo Do training paid off for Michael. Sidestepping Alexis’s super squeeze, Michael was able to ninja roll over his desk and put distance between him and my big sister.
“Michael Boyd! What? No hug for me?” Alexis laughed, trying to pretend his reaction was perfectly normal. But the only thing that wasn’t normal was Alexis. More specifically, what the heck was she wearing?
Alexis’s naturally blond hair was now tinted a dark shade of purple. And she was wearing a baggy flannel shirt, black leggings, and giant black boots. Immediately it hit me—that was her Halloween costume from last year when she went as an emo lumberjack.
Of course, such an entrance attracted the attention of the entire class, not to mention Ms. Cane.
“Hello! And you are?” asked Ms. Cane.
“ERMAHGERD! Are you Ms. Cane?” blurted out Alexis, as if she just met the president or Edward the vampire guy. “Love your hair! ADORBS! I’m Alexis, Jake’s sister. Jake! You never told me your teacher was so cool!”
“Oh my! Thank you, Alexis. Aren’t you the sweetest thing!” said a blushing Ms. Cane.
“I am so sorry for interrupting your day. But when I found out you were looking for help, I had to run over,” said Alexis. “I love animals so much. Here, I brought my résumé.”
Résumé? What could it possible say? Aerodynamic Associate—Toilet Paper Division, or maybe it listed her advance degree in brotherly torment.
“No way!!!! Is that a BOXY!” screamed Alexis, pointing to Ms. Cane’s picture of her pet turtle, Mr. Fred.
“Yup! Freddy is my baby! Just turned three last week,” said a proud Ms. Cane.
“I’m totally jelly! I want one so bad, but this guy here is scared of most living creatures,” said Alexis as she grabbed me in a playful headlock and tussled my hair.
“No kidding? That explains why he loves marketing so much. Scared of the customers!” Ms. Cane laughed.
“Totes McGoats!” Alexis said, laughing. “But seriously, I’m not scared of any animal and would love a chance to get knee deep in dog hair, fur, whatever you got.”
The two of them kept laughing and continued their unusual bonding session while Ms. Cane gave Alexis the grand tour.
Suddenly, I lost my appetite. It felt like a tornado had ripped through Fur Cuttery, Inc., smashing my credibility like some flimsy corn silo. It took Alexis two minutes to destroy weeks of hard work and sucking up.
Ms. Cane acted like she was back in middle school and Alexis was her new BFFL.
That afternoon Alexis was officially the newest member of FCI. But there would be no fur sweeping or drool mopping in Alexis’s immediate future.
Of course not, silly! You don’t let your bestie start at the bottom and work her way up. Instead, if you’re Ms. Cane, you announce to the class that my big sister is the new Overlord of Customer Care.
In a move that left the entire class in shock, the two new best buddies drove off to the afternoon appointments giggling and talking about iced coffee and celebrity gossip. I’m sure they made time for a Forever 21 and Starbucks run. YOLO!
The only person more upset than me about our new Overlord of Customer Care was Lesley. She was supposed to be the Queen of Clean. Was Alexis her new boss?
That night I decided to order room service. Faking a headache and lying in bed, I couldn’t stomach the thought of sitting at the same table with Alexis.
I was the one who ripped out the soul of her eighth-grade existence. And now it was time for payback.
If she was willing to abandon her unofficial uniform of straight blond hair, Lululemon headbands, Abercrombie shirts, and Hollister jeans for a depressed-lumberjack look, I was in BIG trouble.
That week, Ms. Cane called a company meeting. It was the first time she spoke to us as a class since launching Fur Cuttery, Inc. Most kids expected a party to celebrate our five hundredth customer. Ms. Cane had other plans.
Instead of cake and pats on the back, we got a lecture on our laziness. Ms. Cane stood in front of us and demanded we give “one hundred ten percent every day” and challenged everyone at Fur Cuttery, Inc., to be committed to the “pursuit of excellence.”
As soon are we heard those words, Michael and I looked at each other in horror. That was Alexis talking. Actually, both those phrases are on giant posters in her basement weight room. She was brainwashing Ms. Cane.
How easily Ms. Cane forgot all our planning, effort, and hard work. A bunch of sixth-graders launched her business and within weeks filled her appointment book with hundreds of customers. We were the biggest thing in the grooming industry since No Tears Ringworm Rinse.
All that didn’t matter. Ms. Cane wanted MORE! She also explained that none of our positions were “jobs for life” and big changes could be coming if she didn’t see improvement. So much for hard work and creating my own luck. Was working for a company just like school—one big popularity contest? Nooooooo!!!!!!!!!
Within days of coming aboard, everyone at Fur Cuttery, Inc., lived in fear of our new overlord. She was Ms. Cane’s eyes and ears, and nobody escaped her critical eye. Basically, Alexis was the company bully.
She acted like a test monitor, slowly walking around the class, on the lookout for slackers and anyone goofing off. She enjoyed making everyone uncomfortable. I’d never really seen her smile before.
I felt the worst for Lesley. Because with the new OC up on the wall, there were no more questions about who was in charge of pet operations. The Overlord controlled everything to do with pets, grooming, and appointments, and Lesley was number two.
Although it was rare for Alexis to lower herself and actually speak to sixth-graders, she always found time to share words of encouragement with Lesley:
“Geez Louise. Not so deep into her ear channel with that cotton swab. You’re not mining for gold!”
“No . . . no . . . NO!!! We don’t muzzle. EVER! How long have you been here?”
“Lesley! Just listen to me. The quieter you become, the more you can hear!”
“Haven’t you heard of aromatherapy? What kind of operation you running here? Lavender, Lesley, LA. VEN. DER!”
That Friday turned out to be doomsday. Ms. Cane was in earlier than usual and TAKE A SEAT was written on the board in big, bold letters. I knew what was coming. It was about to get ugly!
“Apparently, some of you aren’t taking the business seriously. I guess my warnings weren’t enough. So, with that said, I’m making some changes,” announced Ms. Cane.
Lesley, her arms firmly crossed, started to breathe heavy. I didn’t think she was the hyperventilating type. But waiting to be fired must be awful. It was all so embarrassing—so public!
Ms. Cane started off by announcing a few lower-level moves. AJ Fish was moved to the Hive, and Lauren Giles was going to accounting. Then came the BIG STUFF.
“Okay! Regarding management—there is one significant change. Although I do appreciate everyone’s hard work up to this point, I need to make this move in order to take Fur Cuttery, Inc., to the NEXT LEVEL,” said Ms. Cane. Hmm? Another Alexis phrase. Too funny!
“Starting today, DW III is the new Boss of Buzz. Jake will be taking DW III’s old position in operations,” announced Ms. Cane.
At first, I thought there was some kind of mistake.
“Me?! I’m going to the truck? What did I do?” I asked, trying desperately not to overreact. You never know, this could be some kind of test or something.
“That’s correct. Sorry. Like I said, I had t
o make a change,” said Ms. Cane as she walked back to her desk. “All right. The show’s over, let’s get to work. We have lots to do.”
But nobody moved. Everyone was in shock. I got up and walked to the front of the room, I wasn’t going down without a fight.
“That’s crazy. I’m doing a great job! Why are you doing this? You fired me for nothing,” I said.
“Jake, you haven’t been fired, just reassigned. It’s no big deal. We only have a few weeks left, anyway. It’s time to give someone else a chance,” said Ms. Cane.
“It’s no big deal to you, maybe. But it’s a very big deal to me. I’ve been working my butt off for you. We get you eight to ten appointments every day,” I said as calmly as possible, trying hard to change her mind.
“Jake, I know you’re passionate about your work, but the decision is final. I need to do what’s best for Fur Cuttery, Inc.,” said Ms. Cane. “I hope you understand.”
“No. I DON’T. But I hope you UNDERSTAND I need to do what I need to do,” I said.
Standing in front of my teacher, I was shaking mad. Then I noticed Michael approaching.
“Come on, Ms. Cane, this is bull. Fur Cuttery, Inc., is blowing up because of Jake’s work. I don’t get it. Why?” asked Michael.
“Listen CE-YO, I don’t need to explain myself,” said Ms. Cane. “Just be happy it wasn’t you. Unless, of course, you’d like to join your pal on the cleaning crew?”
“This company is a joke. I’d rather be covered in dog hair and fur balls than work another second as your CE-anything. I’m done. Come on, Jake, let’s get cleaning,” said Michael.
“Ms. Cane, it’s foolish to lift a rock only to drop it on your foot,” Michael said to Ms. Cane.
“Wow. How worldly. Now, go get some cleaning supplies and a mop. And make sure not to drop those on YOUR foot,” Ms. Cane said with a laugh.
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