Henchpersons Wanted. Inquire Within.

Why yes. Please, let me take your baggage. Please follow me. We are meeting in Room Three.

:: meanwhile ::

:: Cloudy skies. Wind. A small metal insect darts through the air, the first of many. It scans the landscape with glassy eyes, looking for one particular location.

Far away, in a hidden bunker, a controler watches great screens that relay the insect’s view. As she tilts her joystick, the insect banks in response. A house appears in view, one of a group of cheaply-built McMansions inconveniently located far from shops and amenities. ::

Ah yes. 2525 Archway Manor Drive.

:: The insect dives down closer, and the house expands in the screen.

The controller flips a switch. A screen indication appears, with scrolling numbers and then a quiet voice announcement. ::

Insect Death Rays Armed And Charging…
Insect Death Rays Ready

:: The controller smiles. ::

They won’t have any warning this time.

::looks around the spartanly furnished room::
no posters, no flyers, am I in the right place?
::tries door handle, discovers door is locked::
What would MacGuyver do? (aside from drive Patty and Selma crazy)
::dumps shoulder bag on table and starts rummaging thru contents::

Interesting. I can’t help but notice your head is still inexplicably attached to your neck, despite my orders to, uh, arrange it otherwise. So hard to find good help these days.

BREE BREE BREE

:: in a control room nearby, an alarm ::

Suspicious Activity detected in Room Three

:: A security offer looks at a screen ::

Hmm. This one looks resourceful.

:: He leans to a microphone ::

Send a Retraining Team to Room Three. immediately!

Sunspace, I"m glad to see we’re on the same page with this. The, um, extra ingredients in the food I delivered will make those who ate, easier to detect by your insect. I presume it has full chemical analysis capabilities, so the victims will show up more clearly, the better to track them my dear.

You just can’t go wrong offering free gourmet food.

<Bosda jams lit torch through the bars of the Laboratory Dungeon door. Growling is heard within.>

You don’t like fire, eh?!

I’ll teach you respect, you horrid freak!

<Jams torch, shrieks of animalistic outrage heard within>

damn. they’re onto me, I’d better work quickly.
::after texting headquarters, fashions a crude set of nunchucks out of a cell phone, a PDA, and a whole lot of dental floss::
okay, I’m ready. Bring it.

It’s too late to make like you care now. I was there, henching my heart out for you. You wanted heads on pikes? I got them for you. You wanted the streets to run with blood up to the horse’s brideles? I gave you blood so deep the damn horses drowned! Why don’t you get the Threshold person to help you? Because he can’t! That’s why!

My Smith, your stuttering problem appears to be getting worse. But I think we can put a positive spin on it!

Winston Smith: Words so worthwhile, they bear repeating.

or possibly

Winston Smith is speaking. Are YOU listening?

As for the rest of the firm’s activities: well, it gets daily more difficult to put a positive spin on torture, poisoning and genetic experimentation. Fortunately, our media blitz is bearing positive results: we now rank ahead of noted pharmaceutical companies in the “Trust” category, although we still languish behind the U.S. government. Now, we COULD improve our image- but it would be simpler, not to say cheaper, just to slander everyone else’s. Therefore, I’d like to file a request to our Blackmail, Fraud and Extortion department to create a few scandals in the US government and a few well-chosen corporations. True, revealing what we know will cost us blackmail funds in the short term- but you can’t buy that kind of publicity!

Meanwhile, propoganda (uh- public information) continues to work well in the Consolidated Regional Offices (Japan, Brazil, so on, so forth). We have won the hearts of the Brazilians by promising to find a cheaper source of meat than cattle ranches, thus checking the spread of deforestation. Soylent Green sales are up in all major markets. The Japanese, meanwhile, have heard of our giant-robot industry, and are naturally fascinated. Perhaps a few training videos could be sent to keep them distracted while we take over their industrial facilities?

Finally, internal propoganda. Unfortunately, loyalty to the company and the person of Winston Smith is down nearly 83%! What with the constant flow of double-, triple-, quadruple- and sextuple-agents back and forth between our organisation and the recent not-for-profit interest group set up to oppose us, many of our agents have no idea who they work for any more! While there are some productive individuals who continue to raise the bar for “spreading the goodtime vibes” as widely and ferociously as possible (remember our branding, people!), others have defected, pretended to defect, or really-defected-and-then-pretended.

Normally I’d address this problem through a little yoga, some teambuilding exercises, and a series of madatory “intensive nervous system response” sessions with the “employee comfort co-ordinators” in our “special” suites. However, that doesn’t seem to be working this time- possibly because the comfort co-ordinators are unwilling to- uh- “co-ordinate” their own comfort levels. Suggestions from those few staff who still remain loyal?

Indeed, it’s been my experience that the “best” course of “action” is to have the “loyal” employees “kill” the “disloyal” employees. I find it improves morale, reduces health-care costs (at least temporarily), and starts to get us all back on track to spreading the goodtime vibes. Make it so.

Activate Plan Q!

:: in Room Three, the walls start to close in ::

Damn. I wanted to save this for a real emergency
::presses button on underside of watchface, will pointing watch at door. Door seemingly disappears::
I knew that matter shifting ray would come in handy one day, but now I’ll have to recharge it somewhere
::grabs shoulder bag and slipd quickly into hall before door rematerializes::
now, which way did I come in?

Y’know, it’s a funny thing, boss – I offered to “have a talk” with Scumpup way back when, but you said that’s not the way things were done in your organization. So just exactly how are things done, now? Maybe we need a briefing? Hmm?

Yes, yes. Here it is…
QUOTE=Winston Smith]Daithi Lacha, we’re progressive here, and don’t really use the old prove-the-brutality-of-the-new-enforcer-by-having-him-murder-a-disposable-underling-in-an-extravagantly-grisly-fashion test anymore, as I’m sure someone will come along shortly to point out.

[/QUOTE]

But, let me point out that you have proven yourself otherwise, as has "b]Scumpup** in a previous attempt on your life. Now, if you’re going to let him get away with that, fine. I wouldn’t, though. That’s all I’m saying. Now, go do the right thing.

You’re da boss, Boss!

Checks inside trenchcoat: cattle prod, straight razor, bamboo slivers, brass knuckles, aluminum foil for shoving between fillings, etc.

Here, Scumpup! Here, boy!

Yet another reason why good shall always triumph over evil. When a friend showed me the transgenic creatures he had been making, I was shocked and disgusted. How could he keep them locked away in cells? What was the purpose of the cattleprod hung on the corridor wall?

My friend answered all my objections. His creatures had, at most, the minds of toddlers. They liked to play with shiny things, to put things in their mouths, and were kept in cells entirely for their own safety. It was easier and much safer than attempting to childproof the entire complex against toddlers who could be over six feet tall, or stronger than any Olypmic weightlifter, or possessed of retractable claws etc.

The cattle prod, he told me, was used as mild rebuke on some of the creations with thick hides. I remembered the day that I learned a choke chain studded with interior spikes was not in fact a cruel way to discipline a boxer. The combination of fur, thick hide, and strong neck muscles moved it from the realm of cruel, to humane and throroughly ineffective.

His final demonstration was simply to enter, unarmed, each of the cells. The creatures treated him as a beloved father. The only dificulty was in getting some of them to let go when he moved to leave. In an assualt, the creatures would defend their creator with their lives. Any person perceived as threating him would ripped to pieces.

If an intruder were to open the dungeons, Bosda what do you think would happen to you?

Ah! A good old-fashioned duel-to-the-death! These playvery well with our test groups!*

Furthermore, it might well distract from our company loyalty problems and serve as a useful example to the rest of the staff…another brilliant idea by Winston Smith! Hail him! Hail, I say, hail! No, not hail, you imbeciles, turn off that blasted weather-controlling machine! Turn it KRAK-BOOM sizzle

paging cloning teams, paging cloning teams, please begin reanimation process for Happy Clam #18

*Well, more kidnap victims than test groups, but I digress.

::follows animalistic shrieks of outrage down steps, along corridor, to door at the end of the hallway. Cautiously peers thru portal in door::
Oh, those poor creatures! They need lvoing care and sympathy
::verifies ‘coast is clear’ and steps inside, slowly, all the while cooing to the critters to calm them down. They seem to respond and quiet down::
Poor babies, you shouldn’t be locked up like this
::carefully opens cages making sure to stay clear of the path of egress::

…from The Jerry Springer Show…

That’s right, Jerry, he threw me over for a bleeping SUPERHERO!

crowd noises
Kick him to da kerb, honey!
You too good for him!
applause

How did that make you feel, Scumpup?

Well, Jerry, it made me feel like I was nothing but a tool that he thought he could use and discard on a whim. I thought we were partners!

They all like that!
You could do way bettah!
applause

What are your plans, Scumpup?

I plan on going back to get my Master’s degree in Brutalology. I’m sure there is a supervillain out there who is really super and worthy of having me as a henchman.

you go girl!
That’s the way!

Scumpup, what would you say if we told you that Mr. Smith was backstage all this time?

Aw no you didn’t! You bleeping fool!

cut to commercial break

anyrose, I really wouldn’t touch those creatures. Even with my near-infinite supply of freshly cloned alternate bodies, I would hesitate to go near them. You see, Winston Smith Enterprises leads the way in exotic poisons and hideous diseases, and- well, need I continue?

On the plus side, you have eliminated the problem of what to do with an irritating intruder (you). Please, look us up in any future lives you may have- I’m sure we can find a place for someone of your ingenuity and resourcefulness (if not common sense).