Secret Lives of my Coworkers- ?????Submitted by monkeyswithguns at 2008-10-17 12:44:30 EDT
Rating: 1.82 on 36 ratings (36 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
What I know:
Joey is an extreme brown-noser. When I say extreme, I don’t mean nose to the colon. I mean nose through the colon, past the intestines, rising up through the stomach, producing the acidic gagging known as dry-heaves.
However, my boss eats it up, as most do, and so Joey is a part of “management.” His job is to manage the lowest of the low, the hourly employees in the warehouse, usually drunken, surly types whose highest aspiration is to win the scratch off lotto so they can pay off their lot fees at the trailer park. I respect them more than Joey, because at least they do the work assigned to them.
Joey is also a Jehovah’s Witness, which is one more reason why I don’t trust him. Anyone who belongs to a religious organization that makes it a part of their worship to bang on innocent people’s doors at ungodly hours of the morning to “spread the word” is on my hit list.
This also applies to the local politicians who are running for such high offices as tax commissioner, or DA, who leave their little calling cards proclaiming their qualifications for the office as being:
-Member of “Oak Grove Baptist Church” for X number years
-Parent of 3 uteral discharges
-Watched a Fox news broadcast once (Actually, that last one is made up. Unfortunately the other 2 aren’t.) But I digress, this isn’t about local politicians, this is about my coworker-Joey.
He is married, with an infant, and has a large family who all hail from California, someplace just south of LA, which I don’t remember the name of and don’t give a fiddler’s fart about anyway.
His brother also worked for us as “management” at one point, although he royally screwed us over, and (per Joey) was disowned by him over it.
A Sci-Fi geek, Joey spends a large portion of his day playing Star Wars video games on the company computer with his office door closed; Either that or watching Star Wars movies on the company computer, either way, he’s all about Star Wars. The NEW Star Wars.
By glancing at his office, you can tell he primarily lives off of honey buns and Monster™ energy drinks. You can also tell he doesn’t place hygiene on his to-do list very often, as the reek of cheesy poofs and spilled soda is overpowering. But enough of this, I want to tear into him now.
Fiction (As far as I know):
Joey wakes up, rolls his girth to the edge of the bed, and looks forlornly at his gut. He’d been meaning to work on that for awhile, but juggling the act of beating Level 9 of “The Empire Strikes Back” and having a newborn reduces the chances of him hitting the gym to 0%.
It’s a beautiful Saturday morning, and he’s volunteered to go house to house to spread the word, so that the righteous might be picked out amongst the heathens of the world. The Day of Judgment will arrive soon, of this he is sure.
He meets up with his fellowship at their kingdom hall, and they make plans on where they will strike down blasphemy and ignorance today.
Today, they’ve selected an area known as High Falls, just south of Atlanta. The expanding suburbs are the perfect place to preach, as the inhabitants are often fleeing the rapid urbanization of South Atlanta, and are already fearful from the expansion of the ghetto into what were once relatively pristine neighborhoods.
“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to Anger. Anger leads to Hate. Hate leads to Suffering” thinks Joey, citing one of his favorite Yoda quotes.
Fear is caused by ignorance, and ignorance is exactly what he’s looking for. If he tallies up a few more recruits, it will make him look awesome in the eyes of his fellowship. They begin driving to their destination in the van, dropping members off at key locations, and finally Joey and his assistant Mike are dropped off at theirs. It’s a quiet little street, several houses, a very unassuming neighborhood.
They knock on the first few doors and nobody answers. There are cars in the driveway, so they know people are there, but that’s just how it goes sometimes. It’s for this reason that they like to hit early in the morning, to catch people off guard before they have the chance to leave the house for the day. Unfortunately, they must have already been spotted by the inhabitants.
The sixth house down, they hit pay dirt. After the knocking, they hear a stumbling sound come from inside the house, followed by cursing, and then the turn of the knob.
“Whaddayouwan….” And there’s silence. Joey has hit Monkeyswithguns’ house. Woken up on a nice pleasant Saturday morning, after banging his wife, laying around in post-coital bliss, and there Joey stands, slack-jawed and speechless.
“Joey, get the fuck off my front porch, I’m not interested.”
“Monkeyswithguns, just give us a moment to hear what we have to say, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Nope, fuck off fatty. Disappear from my sight, or I’ll kick you in the crotch and call the police.”
“Well that’s just not nice…..”
“It’s not fuckin nice to be knocking on people’s doors at 8:00 am on a Saturday morning either, now is it fucko? Now get lost.”
“Look, we have to work together, there’s no need to be rude, and we’ll be on our way.”
“But there IS a need to be rude asshole. You woke ME up. I was happily lying around, and you woke me up, and I had to come to the door to look at your vacant cranium one more day of the week. I don’t get paid for this shit. Now fuck off.”
The door shuts in his face with a solid thump, and he hears muttering and cursing from inside, followed by a consoling voice begging him to calm down as they walk away.
Not one to be daunted by this discouragement, Joey and Mike make their way down to the next house, and the house after, and the house after, with nobody answering.
“I’ll bet he called everyone up and warned them we were headed down the street.”
Not a moment after he speaks, he hears a terrifying sound. A rapidly approaching sound. The sound of several paws running at full stride across asphalt, jaws clenching, and finally barking.
“Shit Mike! They’ve released the hounds!”
Mike takes off running, leaving Joey behind. Joey has no chance. He should have started a diet earlier.
The 2 pairs of dogs, great danes and Dobermans, catch up to Joey and leap upon his massive frame, lunging for the jugular. Amidst the gnashing and tearing, there is the whimpering sound of a grown man crying and begging to live, but his cries fall on dog’s ears, and they don’t care.
There is a rifle crack, and Mike hits the pavement.
“This is a PRIVATE street assholes, you have trespassed! HAHA!!!!”
Since it was so early, nobody was awake yet, and Monkeyswithguns had only called his one friend in the neighborhood to release the dogs to deal with Joey.
They loaded up the corpses into the back of a Durango, and dumped them in his back yard, before cutting them up and feeding them to the dogs. There was never any worry about police, since there’s only one Sherriff assigned to the entire northern end of the county, and everyone hates Jehovah’s Witnesses.
The flesh was gone in 2 days, leaving nothing but the bones, which he gave to his dogs, who in turn crushed and cracked them into nothingness, except for the skulls, which he now keeps in his “heathen alter” closet, surrounded by candles for use in his black magic ceremonies.
And that’s how Monkeyswithguns ended up working late on a Friday, because Joey wasn’t there to cover his workload. Nobody knows what happened to him, and nobody cares, except the boss, who misses the delicate licking of his taint.
Have a great Friday everyone, and remember not to trespass or knock on stranger's doors at 8 am on any day of the week, but especially not on a Saturday.