Saturday, July 11, 2009

You The People - 2010 novel - Three Month Appraisal

It's the moment of your three-month appraisal and you've been summoned, at 12:00 exactly when the office is jam-packed full of sleazy industry, so that every employee will see your Dead Man Walking. He loves this, your boss, loves the power game.

Part of the information gathering mechanism is the communal toilet. As corporations quickly understood that all the greatest (most valuable) thoughts happen on the toilet, that was the obvious choice to develop appraisal strategies for - your DNA is not your friend.

In the corner of the boss's office is a cylinder of chrome. Your boss presses a button under the lip of his chrome desk and the cylinder flips inside out with a soft pop of sphincteral air. You jerk your head to one side, instinctively. It's all you can do, confronted with the little gust of arse stink and the sight that now confronts you.

“It's a giver, this one, not a taker.” that's what's the boss says. But you don't understand.

A giver? Not a taker? Is he talking about you? Is he talking about the corporation? You shrug. Because what he's said is just too inappropriate for the location and the circumstance.

“The toilet.” he chimes like a lovely church bell you can see via psyche-plug on your micro breaks, “Just like the one in the communal lavies. Isn't it?”

This just gets worse and worse. Is your boss really asking you whether this toilet is different from the other ones? What's the 'giver/taker' question anyway? You really haven't twigged. Then...

Then the boss gets up from his lovely, ornate chrome chair. In all honesty, you've never seen him do this. You've only ever seen him installed in his crystal box, the feedout from his holo-network shimmering across his expressionless features before you arrive in the morning until after you've left in the evening. You've never seen how difficult it might be for him to actually get himself up. Standing up, you'd imagine, just couldn't be this difficult. And then you see maybe why.

The pulsating chromes extrusion pouring up from the centre of the seat like a ... dildo. The top two thirds of the thrumming tower are covered in a dull, green excreta like baby poo, something sinister like that that can only hint at the crucifying lifestyle and cancerous diet of these ultra execs. Over time you see how the green poo is absorbed into the dildo. Maybe management psyche-plugs just have this wider girth for bandwidth reasons? Maybe they have a lot more data to digest? Is this how the upper echelon really communicate their higher orders to their immediate subordinates? Is this how they gather their webs of information.

“There are many systems in the corporate world, never forget that.” says your boss, “One of the most useful ones our engineers have ever concocted is the Appraisal Toilet. It's like a normal toilet but, as I've already alluded, this toilet is a giver, not a taker. Do you understand what that might mean.” You get a shivering inkling into what the giver part of the Appraisal Toilet might imply and you hope you're wrong.

“Well, yes..” you begin to illustrate for your boss why he should fire you rather than concrete your employ with a permanent contract, rates of pay and dismissal procedures pending, “It gives, rather than receives?” You're wondering whether you'll have to endure anal rape from this arcane contraption and you're considering your legal position.

“Well, done.” he grins, waddling over to the Appraisal Toilet like John Wayne after a three-state cattle drive. He depresses the toilet's chrome flusher. The bowl fills up with a strange technicolour soup. Your boss turns to you, a terrifying grin on his face, “Come.” he waves you over for a good close look, “Have a look at this. It's really a genius piece of kit.”


Anonymous said...

Excellent - great writing.

Anonymous said...

I'm looking forward to reading the full novel when it comes out. I think Mike's novels will stand the test of time or they may get publicly burned as heresy, depending on which way the pendulum swings. I'll keep a my copy hidden away somewhere just in case.

Mike Philbin said...

"..the best one can hope for is a hatred by the masses, revulsion among one's peers.."