First Sign of the Badger

by Brock Rhodes

  #

  An intervention is planned. Coworkers are gathered. The California Room is the location. A chair sits. It has no arms.

  "Are you sure we're not gonna get into trouble for this? I mean, we haven't told the..." a woman questions.

  "Aren't you tired of it? He's such a snob. He's making this a hostile work environment."

  "Yeah. He's just fuckin' weird." The majority momentums confrontation.

  The crowd shushes. Someone is heard. "I'm needed in here?" Mr. Go is outside.

  "Yes, sir. Just go right on in and have a seat."

  "Okay, bye." Mr. Go enters. The seat is filled. The crowd is noticed.

  "Hello Mr... Go," says a spokesman. "We've called you here out of concern."

  A slacker gets aggressive, "You're behavior is causing problems!"

  "I'm causing problems," Mr. Go is concerned.

  "You're behavior is. Well, it's different," the spokesman is diplomatic.

  Mr. Go will not nuisance. "Okay, bye."

  He leaves the room. Everyone expected failure.

  The woman shakes a finger, "That was smooth. Where's he going?"

  Mr. Go ventures to the President's office. The executive puts down a drink. Mr. Go is the favorite.

  "Mr. Go. How goes it?"

  "Am I causing problems?"

  The President loves needs. It's not his money. "You? No, you're probably my best employee. In fact, how does a 25-cent raise sound?"

  Mr. Go is happy. "Okay, bye."

  The woman is next. "Sir, I had nothing to do with it. I was there and I told them not to."

  The President is vague. Information is mined. "Oh, really?"

  "Yes, and I thought that the confrontation was totally inappropriate."

  The puzzle shows a picture. The President is sly. "Where is everyone?"

  "In the California room."

  The President rises. Heads will roll. "Would you be a dear and go get Mr. Go to have him join us in the conference room?"

  "Yes, sir," the woman mistreats milk. The sinner crawls into the church. The choir boy counts the booty.

  "Mr. Go, the President would like to see you in the California room?"

  Mr. Go is interrupted. "I just saw the President."

  "For real this time. He told me to come and get you."

  Mr. Go obliges.

  The MVP's are ejected. Mr. Go is a landmark. The slacker confronts, "Fuck you!" The current is a riptide.

  "Fuck me?" asks Mr. Go.

  "Fuck you, you fuckin' ass kissing bitch!" The slacker punches Mr. Go. He falls. He stands up. The spokesman muzzles the slacker.

  "Okay, bye," Mr. Go marches.

  "Group. I will not have this. Disciplinary matters are to be handled by me. Not vigilantes. I'm the king. I'm the boss. Boss!" states the President. "Mr. Go is my best employee. He's made more money for this company than any handful of you yackers. The reason you slobs don't understand him is because he's about business." The President is upset. A medal is awarded. The soldier is bloody. "What happened to you?"

  "I got punched," answers the victim.

  "Jesus Christ! Well, to show you that hard work rewards, Mr. Go, how would you like to be vice-president? You'll get a better office, you'll be everyone's boss, and be makin' about 200 G's."

  Mr. Go is excited, "Okay, bye." He salutes. Work calls him

  "Goddamn inspirational," the President is pleased.