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The Demise of Spamuel D Drake: The Beginning of the End

Submitted by Spam at 2009-06-04 07:48:23 EDT
Rating: 1.52 on 33 ratings (33 reviews) (Review this item) (V)

The daytime world I live in is woven from the fabric of a thousand lies.

Row upon row of faceless men in grey yell, shout and laugh into cordless headsets, bludgeoning the innocent public into submission with the weight of spurious personalities they swap and change as often the Armani suits they wear to mask the nakedness of the falsehoods beneath. All of them are brewed from the same blend of arrogant superficiality, coated in the thick greasy slime of their own bluster and bravado, drowning themselves in lies until nothing of the person beneath survives and all that's left is a homosaphic pile of ooze pretending to be human. It's necessary here, this culture of mistruth, for the innocent and naive are soon gobbled up by the hunger and greed of their co-workers and so the only way to get along in this ghoulish half-life is to pretend you're better than everybody else and sooner or later, you start believing your own lies. The end result is a sea of people all striving to be seen, all endeavoring to be different, all inseparable in their identical attempts to appear unique.

Surveying them all from his glass-walled office, picking out the weak and unsuited and casting them out like some king of Hades, sits the company director: Andrew Fuhrer, and God, I wish I was making his last name up but he really is called The Fucking Fuhrer. And you can tell he's the owner of the place because his shoes are little shinier than the rest and the ubiquitous perma-tan that seems a prerequisite here appears darker and actually caused by exposure to the sun rather than a hundred weekly to visits to Pyong Yang's Tanning parlor across the way.

In the middle of the seething mass of hateful oxygen theft sit Jay and I, seemingly the only two people who have slipped through the net and still show a few signs of original thought. Jay is only 18 and I know nothing else about him other than the fact he is the only person in this entire rat-infested hell-hole I can stomach talking to for periods longer than 20 seconds so when you think about it, it's a fucking miracle we ended up sitting next to each other cos otherwise, chances are we would have succumbed to the pressure of our colleagues and mutated into bullshit spewing pricks just like the rest of the sales floor. He keeps me sane, man, my conspiratorial compadre in this Nazi-labour camp and so when he asks if I wanna go out for a few beers on Friday night, I actually give it some genuine thought despite my strict 'Don't drink with fuckhead colleagues' code.

When he mentions that he's got tickets to the Derby County vs Nottingham Forest FA Cup game I'm fucking sold.

And if you're trying to jump ahead of the story I can tell you now that you're way off the mark my friends because in the 35 minute train journey to Derby, Jay shows no outward signs of psychosis or abnormality and by the time we arrive, 3 cans of Foster's the better, we are laughing and joking and have become firm friends - unified by our hatred of everything Company.

Sure, things start to take a turn to the bizarre when he hands me my ticket and it's got nothing written on it other than his name and some Derby Country corporate logo but even though it seems odd not to have a row and seat number, it looks official and Jay answers my questioning brow with throwaway grin that assures me he knows what he's doing.

Outside the ground I make my way to the turnstiles to join the rank and file of my fellow Rams supporters but Jay stops me and ushers me to a curiously non-descript unmarked door recessed into the external wall of the massive stadium.

"We go this way." He says mysteriously, and something about how he says the 'we' piques my interest.

So we leave the sound and fury of the hordes of drunken fans outside and step through the threshold into a world so far removed from the noise and savagery I've come to expect from a Derby-Forest game that I immediately look around for any tardy white rabbits that may be happening by.

The spacious foyer we walk into is a plush, marble-floored sparkly prism of modern wealth, it's softly lit walls decorated tastefully with old photos of Legends past and present and a faint aroma of lavender caresses us on a silently air-conditioned breeze. A well-dressed behemoth of a man, who simply has to be security greets Jay with a polite nod but then notices me and raises an eyebrow moving across to block me.

"He's with me." Jay says and the guard's suspicious demeanor dissolves which is more than I can say for my suspicious demeanor which is crystallising the more with each passing second.

"Whatever you say Mr. Knight" Says the guard, almost sycophantically.

The altercation is too much to me and I move to voice my reservations to Jay but he disappears up a wide flight of pleasantly carpeted stairs that spiral around the foyer before I can ask him what the fuck is going on.

We're quite high up by the time we get to the right floor and I see that we're on a long corridor that curves slightly to match the contour of the stadium. And I know where we are as soon as I see the uniformly spaced out doors on one side of the corridor with little plaques above each one.

"Dude." I stammer, "Have we got fucking Box Seats to most important game of the season?"

Jay grins.

"How the fuck have you managed to swing that? And why didn't you tell me this earlier you fucking slag?"

"Dad owns a Box" he says simply before stepping inside one of the doors.

And for me, it's a beautiful moment these 15 seconds before I step through into the executive box. Of the hundreds of times I've come to this ground, I've always wondered about this area of the stadium, how it all works, what perks you get to experience, what the views like from the balcony up here. And now, on this FA cup day against or staunchest of rivals, I will finally get to realise a dream I've held for years.

Yep for these 15 seconds I can say it's fucking beautiful to be alive and a Derby County Supporter.

Until I walk through the door and realise that all this luxury, this opulent excess, it all comes at a price.

Because sharing the box with Jay and I, work-shy corporation hating slackers that we are the entire set of directors and co-owners of Carr Stewart Home Finance, the company we hate so much and with so much passion.

And standing in the middle of them sits the king of Hades, Fucking Beelzebub himself: Andrew Fuhrer.

The room falls quiet as I walk in and everybody in there, most of them self-made multi-millionaires, all stop and stare at me with a mixture of disgust and resentment. They know who I am, these rich bastards and hatred for another is obvious.

The door swings shut behind me and there's a good minute of silence, me on one side of the room and 8 corporate scumbags on the other, Jay, standing in the middle.

Andrew is the first to break the silence, as you'd expect from the embodiment of evil.

"What the fuck is He doing here?" he says and I think it's weird, because his question is directed at Jay rather than anybody else.

"He's with me," Jay says, for the second time today "Sorry Dad, I did tell you I would be bringing a mate."

Dad?

Fucking Dad?!

And the realisation hits me that my best mate from work, the guy I've been slagging the company off to for the last few months, the man who I thought shared my hatred of all of the management is actually the Owner of the company's fucking Son.

And I'm about to spend a night out with them.




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Reviews


Submitted by CrapWeed at 2009-07-09 00:09:42 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Yeah, the start of this was absolute tops. The rest was still pretty good too.

Submitted by foana at 2009-07-08 22:54:22 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I think he looks quite jovial actually.

Submitted by orphelia at 2009-07-08 19:22:40 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Seriously deluded bitch below, probably hasn't seen your camwhore spam.

*passes bucket to deranged looney*

Only joking spammy, i still love you and your crazy hats.


Submitted by foana at 2009-07-03 00:42:35 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Spam, you are one captivating cunt. Just finished reading all your submissions (thank fuck its friday) and felt compelled to register and let you know of this. Your the kind of person this fucking planet needs more of. Absolute fucking legend, tip of the hat and all. I'm not lying when I say I would pay to read this shit.

Submitted by RoadSong at 2009-06-05 11:30:21 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by Merlina at 2009-06-05 10:34:13 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by DreamWeaver at 2009-06-05 10:13:04 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

have a great last day and enjoy tonight spammy.

Submitted by DreamWeaver at 2009-06-05 01:01:41 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by SaintGutFree at 2009-06-04 18:12:40 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I'm swimming in Spam's personal information right now. I just blinked and accidentally stole your identity I think.

Submitted by Snark at 2009-06-04 14:40:12 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

This is really good. Solo's review was fucking hilarious.

Submitted by SullyThePirate at 2009-06-04 14:03:40 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I found this during my journey to find the Fist of Legend nipple clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uF56D6jg240

Submitted by monkeyswithguns at 2009-06-04 12:48:19 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by YourNameHere at 2009-06-04 12:18:17 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by SullyThePirate at 2009-06-04 11:35:32 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Damn, I had to keep double checking the user because during the first paragraph I thought I was reading a post by Rorschach. My mom kept screaming to me from downstairs that he's fictional but I told her to go eff herself.

Submitted by Spam at 2009-06-04 09:19:58 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

Submitted by i_can_get_you_a_toe (user info) at 2009-06-04 14:06:00 BST (#)
Ranking: 2

The first part of this post was so brilliant that I started feeling bad about rating you less than a +2 on any of your other posts. The term 'Oxygen Thief' I'm stealing it, making it mine.

The last half was lame and generic, could see it coming from a mile away.

Also, VIP boxes are pretty crap except for the free booze, they're never actually close to the game/concert/your mum. Being down in the crowds in always more fun. Especially with the free booze.

--

I know. The whole thing was supposed to be like the first half and if you look closely, you can actually SEE the point when I got distracted by some floozy and then came back to it the next day and couldn't be fucking bothered anymore.

bah.

Submitted by orphelia at 2009-06-04 09:09:14 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

oh bugger off

Submitted by i_can_get_you_a_toe at 2009-06-04 09:06:00 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

The first part of this post was so brilliant that I started feeling bad about rating you less than a +2 on any of your other posts. The term 'Oxygen Thief' I'm stealing it, making it mine.

The last half was lame and generic, could see it coming from a mile away.

Also, VIP boxes are pretty crap except for the free booze, they're never actually close to the game/concert/your mum. Being down in the crowds in always more fun. Especially with the free booze.

Submitted by Berty at 2009-06-04 09:05:31 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Classic.

Submitted by Spam at 2009-06-04 09:00:39 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

last name, name of company, name of boss. What the fuck else do you want my phone number and e-mail?

Submitted by orphelia at 2009-06-04 08:53:02 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

it still rocks the face off most of the front page

cant stop thinking i heard this story bfore somewhere...

oh and spam please reveal a little more personal info on your next post, this will never be enough for mysti

Submitted by Spam at 2009-06-04 08:38:45 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

And then it's all downhill from there.

Submitted by orphelia at 2009-06-04 08:35:08 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

i would not have noticed

the first paragraph is beautiful

Submitted by Spam at 2009-06-04 08:23:06 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

Skrap. Not so hard: http://www.ubersite.com/m/78574


Submitted by skrapmetal at 2009-06-04 08:11:32 EDT (#)
Rating: 1

Not bad. Office happenings miniseries? Tough to pull off.

I sincerely hope SOLO2 has no affiliation with the SCCA. We don't need mindless arrogant stupidity on the track. Keep it online, pally-wally.

Submitted by The_Drake at 2009-06-04 08:01:39 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Did someone say Drake??

Submitted by Spam at 2009-06-04 07:56:57 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

Submitted by SOLO2 (user info) at 2009-06-04 12:52:47 BST (#)
Ranking: -2

FUCK YOU!



Doesn't feel good that I just -2 without reading does it you fat soggy cow bitch! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth!


---

FUCKING LOL.

Best review ever!!!

Thank you SOLO!

<3

Submitted by Spam at 2009-06-04 07:55:19 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

Also, so you know - this was originally going to be a one-off throwaway generic office annecdote but actually I've decided to turn it into something of a mini series as there's quite a bit of fuckining material I can use from the last two months I've spent here and I kinda wanna gove you guys the full story rather than an embellished snippet. Anyway, this will only be about 5 posts long in a similar vein to the two 'Art of' Series' I've done and will for the most part be 100% true.

The only problem being that my last day here is actually tomorrow and then I shall lose all i'net access for a couple of weeks after that so I dunno when the next installment will be due.

Submitted by SgtHartman at 2009-06-04 07:54:34 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

oh and SOLO's a HOMO

Submitted by SgtHartman at 2009-06-04 07:53:05 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

ahhh Spam, reading about your life and the trials and tribulations always thrills me.

YOU IZ INTERESTING PERZONZ

Submitted by SOLO2 at 2009-06-04 07:52:47 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

FUCK YOU!



Doesn't feel good that I just -2 without reading does it you fat soggy cow bitch! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth! I will rape your mouth!






THis is probably a good post but I dont care! IM AN UBERSITE TROLL!

http://www.fat-pie.com/milkman.htm

Take that.

Submitted by EmissionImpossible at 2009-06-04 07:51:42 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

are you a 'return' button freak?

Submitted by Spam at 2009-06-04 07:51:26 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

SO yeah, I havn't proof-read or spellchecked or anything because I'm retarded and hit enter when trying to capitalise the D in the title. fuck.

Submitted by Spam at 2009-06-04 07:50:25 EDT (#)
Rating: -2

FUCKING ENTER BUTTON!


Homer: Okay, okay, don't panic. To find Flanders, I just have to think
like Flanders!

Homer's Brain:
I'm a big four-eyed lame-o and I wear the same stupid sweater
everyday, and --

Homer: The Springfield River!

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