| General Fiction posted December 9, 2012 |
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Allegory of ... ?
Prelude to the Eulogy
by Bill Schott
Man, it's all I can do to keep from laughing out loud when I think that he's dead. He always thought he was the perfect supervisor. Well now he is -- he's dead.
It seems like just a while ago his old man was asking me if I had the plan right in my head. What we were doing.
"Yes sir," I said for the six hundred and sixty-sixth time. "I got it."
“It's a whole new world," he kept saying.
This was a big project, sure, but I never liked him lording over me the way he did. I had just as much knowledge as him. I know I've got more friends. Together we could have probably taken over this operation and saved a lot of time and energy. I mean, it all went so slowly. First came the lighting; it had to be just so. It took a whole day, and that can seem like an eternity in this business. The firm hadn't even been established until the next day. He called it his 'piece of heaven,' but I never felt comfortable there.
The landscaping was another big deal. Another day shot. Why so many trees? Who's going to mow all that grass?
The next day -- the lighting again. I don't think he knew if it was day or night. He was one of those guys who, you know, stayed out in the sun too long. Bit loony. But if you asked anyone they'd say he 'hung the moon.'
The fifth day - yeah, he must have had a fifth when he got the bright idea to keep fish. You always think you have a big enough bowl, but they just get bigger and bigger until you've got a whale on your hands. And birds - give me a break! Can you say, 'Polly wanna crap all over?' What kind of mind comes up with this stuff?
Then, we all show up the next morning and we have animals. An - i - mals.
Necessary? About as much as the new guy he brought in. He and his wife were about as naive and inexperienced as anyone could get. They couldn't even dress themselves properly, yet, put in charge of everything. The guy gave all the animals some ludicrous names. Called the dog, Dog. Called the cat, Cat. What are you going to do? His wife was a bony gal. She took a lot of ribbing from her husband.
Situation? A lot of balls in the air, run like a Mom and Pop operation, and the Old Man takes the day off.
Now here's where I started getting the blame for things. Mr. High and Mighty tells the new guy to do anything he wants. He could run around naked if he wanted to, just so long as he stuck to a vegetarian diet and stayed away from Sector D. Sector D; that's my department. This is the one I got anyway, since that misunderstanding at the firm. My friends and I all got booted. Guess I was lucky to end up here; the garden spot of the dirt pile.
So, to make a long story short, the guy stays away, but his nosey wife keeps coming around. Now this is where I get falsely accused of saying things that I just never said.
The woman came around my sector, and we were talking. I think her name was Shirley. Well Shirley said something to the effect that she hated the way her hair looked, and she was thinking of dyeing it. And I said something like, "Shirley, say you won't dye your hair." That's all I said.
So, the rest is history. The girl touches something or throws a switch -- I don't know -- ate something - whatever. All I know that it was front page news that this guy and his wife had done something wrong and had to leave town. She ends up having a couple of kids that kill each other, or some such nonsense. And guess who gets the blame for it all? Me. I got the blame, like always, and ended up crawling out of there on my belly.
My life has really gone to hell, and I am just as pleased as I can be to see my supervisor dead. His old man should never have tried to put him in charge of this operation in the first place. It's too complex to allow nepotism to drive decision-making. I tried to give the boy some guidance and advice, but he just wouldn't listen to me. The devil is in the details. I know how things ought to be run down here. I've been around a long, long time.
I wish it had been the old man up there, but he'll probably outlive us all. But it's kind of like being hung in effigy when they nailed his son. Fit him to a tee. Hung him out to dry - and bake - and wheeze - and choke. Ohhh. That was a moment. Sweet. Divine. Best Passover celebration yet!
That will pretty much put an end to the way things have been run around here. I don't know what on earth he thought he was going to accomplish. Looking for a raise I guess. Like everybody else.
Hey! A eulogy. I should give a eulogy. I should say something good about him. Something like, "Christ, you're dead! Good!" That should be enough. No need in getting too mushy.
It's really a shame about those grave robbers last night. His son wasn't dead more than three days before somebody yanked him right out of there. Wish I'd thought of it. Oh man! What do you suppose is happening with that? Kyodd! This is the kind of stuff people write books about. This one would be a best-seller.
Yep, things are going to be different around here - starting RIGHT NOW.
Man, it's all I can do to keep from laughing out loud when I think that he's dead. He always thought he was the perfect supervisor. Well now he is -- he's dead.
It seems like just a while ago his old man was asking me if I had the plan right in my head. What we were doing.
"Yes sir," I said for the six hundred and sixty-sixth time. "I got it."
“It's a whole new world," he kept saying.
This was a big project, sure, but I never liked him lording over me the way he did. I had just as much knowledge as him. I know I've got more friends. Together we could have probably taken over this operation and saved a lot of time and energy. I mean, it all went so slowly. First came the lighting; it had to be just so. It took a whole day, and that can seem like an eternity in this business. The firm hadn't even been established until the next day. He called it his 'piece of heaven,' but I never felt comfortable there.
The landscaping was another big deal. Another day shot. Why so many trees? Who's going to mow all that grass?
The next day -- the lighting again. I don't think he knew if it was day or night. He was one of those guys who, you know, stayed out in the sun too long. Bit loony. But if you asked anyone they'd say he 'hung the moon.'
The fifth day - yeah, he must have had a fifth when he got the bright idea to keep fish. You always think you have a big enough bowl, but they just get bigger and bigger until you've got a whale on your hands. And birds - give me a break! Can you say, 'Polly wanna crap all over?' What kind of mind comes up with this stuff?
Then, we all show up the next morning and we have animals. An - i - mals.
Necessary? About as much as the new guy he brought in. He and his wife were about as naive and inexperienced as anyone could get. They couldn't even dress themselves properly, yet, put in charge of everything. The guy gave all the animals some ludicrous names. Called the dog, Dog. Called the cat, Cat. What are you going to do? His wife was a bony gal. She took a lot of ribbing from her husband.
Situation? A lot of balls in the air, run like a Mom and Pop operation, and the Old Man takes the day off.
Now here's where I started getting the blame for things. Mr. High and Mighty tells the new guy to do anything he wants. He could run around naked if he wanted to, just so long as he stuck to a vegetarian diet and stayed away from Sector D. Sector D; that's my department. This is the one I got anyway, since that misunderstanding at the firm. My friends and I all got booted. Guess I was lucky to end up here; the garden spot of the dirt pile.
So, to make a long story short, the guy stays away, but his nosey wife keeps coming around. Now this is where I get falsely accused of saying things that I just never said.
The woman came around my sector, and we were talking. I think her name was Shirley. Well Shirley said something to the effect that she hated the way her hair looked, and she was thinking of dyeing it. And I said something like, "Shirley, say you won't dye your hair." That's all I said.
So, the rest is history. The girl touches something or throws a switch -- I don't know -- ate something - whatever. All I know that it was front page news that this guy and his wife had done something wrong and had to leave town. She ends up having a couple of kids that kill each other, or some such nonsense. And guess who gets the blame for it all? Me. I got the blame, like always, and ended up crawling out of there on my belly.
My life has really gone to hell, and I am just as pleased as I can be to see my supervisor dead. His old man should never have tried to put him in charge of this operation in the first place. It's too complex to allow nepotism to drive decision-making. I tried to give the boy some guidance and advice, but he just wouldn't listen to me. The devil is in the details. I know how things ought to be run down here. I've been around a long, long time.
I wish it had been the old man up there, but he'll probably outlive us all. But it's kind of like being hung in effigy when they nailed his son. Fit him to a tee. Hung him out to dry - and bake - and wheeze - and choke. Ohhh. That was a moment. Sweet. Divine. Best Passover celebration yet!
That will pretty much put an end to the way things have been run around here. I don't know what on earth he thought he was going to accomplish. Looking for a raise I guess. Like everybody else.
Hey! A eulogy. I should give a eulogy. I should say something good about him. Something like, "Christ, you're dead! Good!" That should be enough. No need in getting too mushy.
It's really a shame about those grave robbers last night. His son wasn't dead more than three days before somebody yanked him right out of there. Wish I'd thought of it. Oh man! What do you suppose is happening with that? Kyodd! This is the kind of stuff people write books about. This one would be a best-seller.
Yep, things are going to be different around here - starting RIGHT NOW.
 Recognized |
Satan as a disgruntled employee.
Thanks to Anne for use of the art
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Thanks to Anne for use of the art
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