Monday, June 23, 2008

See! I Was Right!

A few weeks ago, I posted something about my personal experience with Corporate "Verbal Abuse" . . .or Misuse. . . one of them. Someone sent this to me the other day. #15-16 was the personal offense. . .that and a misuse of a quote fron Don Quixote. .

Anyway, enjoy:

Management speak - don't you just hate it? Emphatically yes, judging by readers' responses to writer

. Here, we list 50 of the best worst examples.

1. "When I worked for Verizon, I found the phrase going forward to be more sinister than annoying. When used by my boss - sorry, "team leader" - it was understood to mean that the topic of conversation was at an end and not be discussed again."
Nima Nassefat, Vancouver, Canada

2. "My employers (top half of FTSE 100) recently informed staff that we are no longer allowed to use the phrase brain storm because it might have negative connotations associated with fits. We must now take idea showers . I think that says it all really."
Anonymous, England

3. At my old company (a US multinational), anyone involved with a particular product was encouraged to be a product evangelist . And software users these days, so we hear, want to be platform atheists so that their computers will run programs from any manufacturer."
Philip Lattimore, Thailand

4. " Incentivise is the one that does it for me."
Karl Thomas, Perth, Scotland

5. "My favourite which I hear from the managers at the bank I work for is let's touch base about that offline . I think it means have a private chat but I am still not sure."
Gemma, Wolverhampton, England

6. "Have you ever heard the term loop back which means go back to an associate and deal with them?"
Scott Reed, Lakeland, Florida, US

7-8. "We used to collect the jargon used in a list and award the person with the most at the end of the year. The winner was a client manager with the classic you can't turn a tanker around with a speed boat change . What? Second was we need a holistic, cradle-to-grave approach , whatever that is."
Turner, Manchester

9. "Until recently I had to suffer working for a manager who used phrases such as the idiotic I've got you in my radar in her speech, letters and e-mails. Once, when I mentioned problems with the phone system, she screamed 'NO! You don't have problems, you have challenges'. At which point I almost lost the will to live."
Stephen Gradwick, Liverpool

10. "You can add challenge to the list. Problems are no longer considered problems, they have morphed into challenges."
Irene MacIntyre, Courtenay, B

11. "Business speak even supersedes itself and does so with silliness, the shorthand for quick win is now low hanging fruit ."
Paul, Formby, UK

12. "And looking under the bonnet ."
Eve Russell, Edinburgh

13-14. "The business-speak that I abhor is pre-prepare and forward planning . Is there any other kind of preparedness or planning?"
Edward Creswick, Exeter

15-16. "The one that really gets me is pre-plan - there is no such thing. Either you plan or you don't. The new one which has got my goat is conversate , widely used to describe a conversation. I just wish people could learn to 'think outside the box' although when they put us in cubes what do they expect?"
Malcolm, Houston

17. "I work in one of those humble call centres for a bank. Apparently, what we're doing at the moment is sprinkling our magic along the way. It's a call centre, not Hogwarts."
Caroline Garlick, Ayrshire

18. "A pet hate is the utterly pointless expression in this space . So instead of the perfectly adequate 'how can I help?' it's 'how can I help in this space?' Or the classic I heard on Friday, 'How can we help our customers in this space going forward?' I think I may have caught this expression at source, as I've yet to hear it said outside my own working environment. So I'm on a personal crusade to stamp it out before it starts infecting other City institutions. Wish me luck in this space."
Colin, London

19. "The one phrase that inspires a rage in me is from the get-go ."
Andy, Herts

20. "'Going forward' is only half the phrase that gets up my nose - all politicians seem to use the phrase go forward together . 'We must... we shall... let us now... go forward together'. It gives me a terrible mental image of the whole country linking arms and goose-stepping in unison, with the politicians out in front doing a straight-armed salute. Is it just me?"
Frances Smith, Toronto, Canada

21. "I am a financial journalist and am on a mission to remove words and phrases such as 360-degree thinking from existence."
Richard, London

22. "The latest that's stuck in my head is we are still optimistic things will feed through the sales and delivery pipeline (ie: we actually haven't sold anything to anyone yet but maybe we will one day)."
Alexander, Southampton

23. "I worked in PR for many years and often heard the most ludicrous phrases uttered by CEOs and marketing managers. One of the best was, we'd better not let the grass grow too long on this one . To this day it still echoes in my ears and I giggle to myself whenever I think about it. I can't help but think insecure business people use such phrases to cover up their inability for proper articulation."
Leon Reilly, Ealing, London

24. "Need to get all my ducks in a row now - before the five-year-olds wake up."
Mark Dixon, Bridgend

25. "Australians have started to use auspice as a verb. Instead of saying, 'under the auspices of...', some people now say things like, it was auspiced by... "
Martin Pooley, Marrickville, Australia

26. "My favourite: we've got our fingers down the throat of the organisation of that nodule . Translation = Er, no, WE sorted out the problems to cover your backside."
Theo de Bray, Kettering, UK

27. "The health service in Wales is filled with managers who use this type of language as a substitute for original thought. At meetings we play health-speak bingo; counting the key words lightens the tedium of meetings - including, most recently, my door is open on this issue . What does that mean?"
Edwin Pottle, Llandudno

28-29. "The business phrase I find most irritating is close of play , which is only slightly worse than actioning something."
Ellie, London

30. "Here in the US we have the cringe-worthy and also in addition . Then there's the ever-eloquent 'where are we at?' So far, I haven't noticed the UK's at the end of the day prefacing much over here; thank heavens for small mercies."
Eithne B, Chicago, US

31. "The expression that drives me nuts is 110% , usually said to express passion/commitment/support by people who are not very good at maths. This has created something of a cliche-inflation, where people are now saying 120%, 200%, or if you are really REALLY committed, 500%. I remember once the then-chancellor Gordon Brown saying he was 101% behind Tony Blair, to which people reacted 'What? Only 101?'"
Ricardo Molina, London, UK

32. "My least favourite business-speak term is not enough bandwidth . When an employee used this term to refuse an additional assignment, I realised I was completely 'out of the loop'."
April, Berkeley, US

33. "I once had a boss who said, ' You can't have your cake and eat it, so you have to step up to the plate and face the music .' It was in that moment I knew I had to resign before somebody got badly hurt by a pencil."
Tim, Durban

34. " Capture your colleagues - make sure everyone attends that risk management workshop (compulsory common sense training for idiots)."
Anglowelsh, UK

35-37. "We too used to have daily paradigm shifts , now we have stakeholders who must come to the party or be left out, or whatever."
Barry Hicks, Cape Town, RSA

38. "I have taken to playing buzzword bingo when in meetings. It certainly makes it more entertaining when I am feeding it back (or should that be cascading ) at work."
Ian Everett, Bolton

39. "In my work environment it's all cascading at the moment. What they really mean is to communicate or disseminate information, usually downwards. What they don't seem to appreciate is that it sounds like we're being wee'd on. Which we usually are."
LMD, London

40. "At a large media company where I once worked, the head of human resources - itself a weaselly neologism for personnel - told us that she would be cascading down new information to staff. What she meant was she was going to send them a memo. It was one of the reasons I resigned - that, and the fact that the chief exec persisted on referring to the company as a really cool train set ."
Andrew, London

41. "Working for an American corporation, this year's favourite word seems to be granularity , meaning detail. As in 'down to that level of granularity'."
Chris Daniel, Anaco, Venezuela

42. "On the wall of our office we have a large signed certificate, signed by all the senior management team, in which they solemnly promise to leverage their talents, display and inspire 'unyielding integrity', and lots of other pretentious buzz-phrases like that. Clueless, the lot of them."
Chris K, Cheltenham UK

43. "After a reduction in workforce , my university department sent this notice out to confused campus customers: 'Thank you for your note. We are assessing and mitigating immediate impacts, and developing a high-level overview to help frame the conversation with our customers and key stakeholders. We intend to start that process within the week. In the meantime, please continue to raise specific concerns or questions about projects with my office via the Transition Support Center..."
Charles R, Seattle, Washington, US

44. "I was told I'd be living the values from now on by my employers at a conference the other week. Here's some modern language for them - meh. A shame as I strongly believe in much of what my employers aim to do. I refuse to adopt the voluntary sectors' client title of 'service user'. How is someone who won't so much as open the door to me using my service? Another case of using four syllables where one would do."
Upscaled Blue-Sky thinker, Cardiff

45. "Business talk 2.0 is maddening, meaningless, patronising and I despise it."
Doug, London

46. "Lately I've come across the strategic staircase . What on earth is this? I'll tell you; it's office speak for a bit of a plan for the future. It's not moving on but moving up. How strategic can a staircase really be? A lot I suppose, if you want to get to the top without climbing over all your colleagues."
Peter Walters, Cheadle Hulme, UK

47. "When a stock market is down why must we be told it is in negative territory ?"
Phil Linehan, Mexico City, Mexico

48. "The particular phrase I love to hate is drill down , which handily can be used either as an adverb/verb combo or as a compound noun, ie: 'the next level drill-down', sometimes even in the same sentence - a nice bit of multi-tasking."
B, London

49. "Thanks for the impactful article; I especially appreciated the level of granularity. A high altitude view often misses the siloed thinking typical of most businesses. Absent any scheme for incentivitising clear speech, however, I'm afraid we're stuck with biz-speak."
Timothy Denton, New York

50. "It wouldn't do the pinstripers any harm to crack a smile and say what they really felt once in a while instead of trotting out such clinical platitudes. Of course a group of them may need to workshop it first: Wouldn't want to wrongside the demographic ."
Trick Cyclist, Tripoli, Libya

Story from BBC NEWS:

Friday, June 13, 2008


Deathlok -
Gordon came to a short time later and Jackie gave him some water. Eventually, he sat up, feeling weak, but better.

Gordon and Winchell traded stories of current events, cautiously at first, feeling each other out. Although they didn’t trust each other 100% when it came to The Company, they both weren’t stupid. With what they had recently been through, they knew the best chance of survival, for both of them, was to take the plunge and give full disclosure to each other. Jackies’s involvement in Winchell’s tale and his vouching for her, was good enough for Gordon. . . .for now.

“The Company has lost it. They are just grabbing people left and right.” Said Gordon. “Do they really think that grabbing a Detective is going to go unanswered?”

WInchell smirked, “Do you think they would have grabbed a Detective if they didn’t have someone on the inside. . . . .high up on the inside. . . .the would cover it up. And by cover it up, I mean cover YOU up.”

“They just about succeeded tonight.” Added Jackie. “I’ve been thinking. . . .”

“That’s always good . . . .blurted Winchell without thinking.

“Shut up! I’ve been thinking . . . if they took Gordon into their “hospital” or lab or whatever. . .instead of just killing him and disposing of his body. . . .”

“Hey, I’m right here!!” chimed Gordon.

“. . . .what are chances that they did the same with Mikal. Maybe he is inside the Company right now.”

Winchell lowered his head. “It’s seems unlikely. . .Gordon, did you see anyone else in there?”

“No, although I was pretty drugged up. No, there wasn’t anyone else around me. It’s a good theory but doubtful. I’m sorry!”

“We have to get in there and look around. We’re really no safer here than we are if we tried to get back in.” The look of a resigned woman showed on Jackie’s face.

“Alright, we’ll try it.” Winchell just wanted this done.

“Let me rest up and I’ll go with you guys” Gordon didn’t want anyone taking down these guys but him. Not after what they did to him.

Winchell wasn’t buying that at all. ‘Not in the shape I was way back Gordon. I don’t think that I could carry you, the next time you drop.”

“You were never in good shape.”


“It’s almost morning”, Winchell took a deep breath. “You get some rest. Jackie and I will try to come up with a plan. Maybe your years in Undercover can be of some use. But, get some rest and we’ll talk later. Actually, we should all get some sleep.”

Gordon laid down and was out in seconds.

“Jackie, you know the place is impossible to sneak into, right?”

“Yeah, but they don’t know we are with Gordon. They think that we are on vacation. Even if they do see us . . . so what! We aren’t on vacation . . .So! We do still work there. Right now, the only three people we can trust are us.”

Supervisor X sat in his office. “Are they coming here as requested? The woman and those two psychopaths?”

“Yes Sir! Amalee and the other two will all be here shortly. Should I bring them up here when they arrive?”

“To my office? Good God, man no!” You’re lucky that I don’t kill you for knowing where my office is. Have them wait in the third floor meeting room. Notify me when they are all here.”

“Yes, Sir!”

“And. . . .


“Don’t forget to have All of there weapons removed this time.”

“Yes, Sir! Sorry , Sir!”

“Oh, and one more thing. . . .” Supervisor X let the thought trail away. “Once they are out with their assignments, give them 12 hours. If they have not completed their tasks and reported back in. . . . . . .activate prototype WRKRB-E10. Let’s put an end to this, shall we?”



Snigglefrits -
Winchell stared at his reflection. The evening before had taken it’s toll on him. He and Jackie had spent most of the night working out their plans for the next few days. Supervisor X’s appearance in his apartment last night had proven one thing- if they didn’t want he and Jackie looking for Mikal, it meant they knew exactly where he was.

People- dead or alive- didn’t get “lost” when The Company was involved.

Their plan was simple. He and Jackie would go into work as normal. She would gather as much information as she could on the conference call she and Mikal were to take part in the previous day; he would request some vacation time. Things had been overly stressful as of late, Mikal’s disappearance only adding to that stress. Nobody would think twice about Winchell wanting some time away. He’d buy a plane ticket to The Company’s resort area in the Bahamas. It would be a few days before he would be truly missed.

Jackie would be “abducted“ this evening. Winchell himself would call the anonymous tip into the police, seeing her pulled into a dirty white panel van by unknown assailants. That had been Jackie’s idea, since she’d seen such a vehicle somewhere just yesterday.

Neither of them would show any interest in Mikal’s absence beyond participating in the water cooler gossip sessions. If questioned about Winch’s sudden interest in vacation, Jackie would allude to it possibly being due to a rather intimate encounter they’d shared the night before. Nothing like the discomfort of an office romance to make a dedicated bachelor head for the hills.

Arriving together at work this morning would reinforce their tale Jackie thought as they pulled into the parking garage amidst their gawking coworkers.

“Jackie, wait.”, Winchell said as she started to get out of the car. “We’ll meet tonight at the South Star motel, right?”. She nodded in affirmation. “Be careful Jackie, one friend disappearing a week in enough for me.”.

He felt a slight tug in his chest as she walked away from the car. “I really do need a vacation.”, he muttered to himself as he gathered his briefcase and headed for the elevator.
Momster -
Detective Gordon continued to look around the room. It was empty except for his hospital bed and the TV bolted to the wall. There was nothing on the walls, not even a window and no other furniture other than the bed. He shook his head trying to make sense of what was happening but the pain medication that was being pumped into his veins through the IV was making that difficult. He looked toward the door when he heard voices outside.
“How’s our patient today?’ the voice queried.
“His wound is healing, there’s no sign of infection.” Just then, the volume of the TV increased as a commercial began playing. “Who left a TV on in his room?” The other voice said as they quickly entered the room, shut off the TV, and unplugged the set.
Glancing over at the bed, they were reassured to see the wounded detective sound asleep, his breathing deep and even. The remote for the TV was on the floor under the set.
“Do you think he saw anything?” the man in scrubs asked.
“No, he is on so much medication a bomb could go off in here and he wouldn’t budge. Besides, look where the remote is. There is no way he turned the set on, he can’t even move. Someone must have been in there watching during their break or something. Just have the set removed.”
The second man said “Pretty stupid if you ask me. If Gordon over there were to find out what’s up it could make this a lot harder.”
“You know the company. They didn’t hire you for your brains, just your willingness to follow orders.”
The two men walked over to Gordon’s bed and adjusting the IV bags while the other injected Gordon who moaned slightly then became still again.
“The doctor says he should be ready for the next step in the procedure in a day or two. They are preparing his tank as we speak.” The man in scrubs said.
The other man rubbed his face as he stared down at Gordon, “are they sure this is a good idea? I mean he is not even company. From what I have been hearing on the news he ‘s a good cop. What if it doesn’t work?”
“Look we cant always be choosey and he was available. Besides, if he doesn’t work he’s already dead to the world anyway. We just make it more permanent.
The two men left the room shutting the door behind them. As soon as the door closed Gordon opened his eyes and tried to raise his head from the pillow but failed. Tears of frustration slipped out of the corners of his eyes as he lost the battle with consciousness.
The next time he woke up his head was clearer and he was beginning to feel more like himself. He wiggled his toes, clenched his fist and was pleased to discover that his body still obeyed his commands. The next thing he did was remove the IV from his arm. After a few moments, he sat up and steadied himself. Slowly he lowered his feet to the floor and stood up, wobbled a bit, but was soon steady enough to make his way to the door. He opened it and peered into the hallway. It was empty. Slowly he made his way out in to the hall and began making his way toward the end. The sound of footsteps warned him of someone approaching and he ducked into the first door only to find himself in the employee beak room. It was empty. Good fortune was on his side as he was able to break into one of the employee lockers and change out of his hospital gown and into street clothes complete with company id. Grimacing as his shoulder protested the movement he slowly dressed then went back out into the hall. Without anyone looking at him twice Detective Gordon was able to make it out of the building into a large parking lot. Once there he chose an unlocked car hot wired it and drove away uncertain of where he should go. He couldn’t go back to the department; they must have someone on the inside, but whom? He couldn’t go back to his place because as soon as they knew he was missing that is the first place they would go. He needed a safe place to figure out what was going on so he drove around until he came to an old friend’s apartment. They went back a longtime and even though he worked for the company, Gordon trusted him with his life. Whatever was going on in the company his friend would know or would at least have a way to find out what it was. Gordon smiled as he saw his friend’s old car parked in the driveway and walked to the door. Knocking with his left hand, he waited. He could hear voices inside; one was his friend and the other belonged to a female he did not recognize. He has never known his friend to bring a girl home. He was somewhat old fashioned that way and Gordon had teased him about that more then once. The evening exertions were taking its toll on the wounded policeman and he leaned up against the door waiting for it to open.
Jackie and Winchell were sitting on the floor of his apartment, papers and printouts scattered about along with the remnants of their dinner. Does any of this make sense to you?” Winchell asked Jackie
Yawning Jackie started to speak when there was a knock at the door. Startled Jackie’s mouth closed like a fish, “who do you think that is?” Jackie whispered
“I don’t know, “Winchell answered go hide in my bedroom I’ll see who it is.” Jackie got up and walked to the back bedroom, closing the door most of the way so she could peer out through the small crack. Winchell opened the door and was surprised when his old friend Gordon collapsed into his arms.
“What the hell, Morgan I thought you were dead!” Winchell exclaimed.
“The reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.” The detective whispered and then promptly passed out in his friends arms.
Winchell was lowering him to the ground when Jackie came out pointing at the unconscious man on the floor, she asked, isn’t that the man the news said was shot and killed today?”
“ Yup that’s him alright.” Winchell replied moving the man to the couch and checking his wound.
Why would he come here? Jackie asked
“He and I go way back before he became a cop. We used to run with the same crowd. He saved my butt more times then I can remember, I owe him a lot.
Gordon moaned and stirred, and Winchell looked down at his fiend. “Whatever is going on I’ll lay wages that the company is involved some how. Help me get him to my room. It is probably in our best interest that no one knows he’s here.
Wyatt -
Amalee drove down the interstate listening to The Ramones. Joey, Dee Dee, and company always relaxed her after a job. It was ironic, to be sure, but ever since her college days, she kept two compact discs in her vehicle at all times: "Mania" by The Ramones, which was her victory soundtrack, and "The Healer" by John Lee Hooker for her failure soundtrack. The blues always made her feel worse, and that was enough motivation to hone her craft like a sharpened stiletto.

There was no delay in choosing today's soundtrack, despite what the unnamed company man had just told her. Rosakoff was dead. She was sure of it. She was sure.

Amalee released the thought as the familiar sounds of "The Cretin Hop" filled the car.



Deathlok -
In a sterile, dimly lit laboratory, the gentle ping of equipment and the strobe of panel lights is monitored from the outer chamber.

"So, is he dead, or what?" asked Lab Tech 3.

"I don't know. Its looks awful still to me. Supposedly, the Chrysalis will keep in in stasis. Our job is to report on the analysis the all this equipment is collecting." replied Lab Tech 2.

"Yeah, but didn't this guy used to work upstairs?" continued Lab Tech 3.

"A work of advise. . being as you are new. Although an inquisitive mind is a wonderful thing, unless you want end up in your own little candy shell, like out friend in their, when it comes to questions less is more." Lab Tech 2advised. "Besides, I have enough work to do with "Prototype WRKRB-E08". I don't need to watching your stats in there."

Lab Agent 2 picked up the file containing their instructions and confirmed their orders.


As the Lab Agents continued their work at their monitoring station, tubes and electrodes continued to provide life support and sedation and retrieve data to be used on the later Prototypes. The project was close to success. Soon the Company would have the Perfect Operative.

Inside the synthetic cocoon, the unmoving form of Mikal Rosakoff floated in protective fluid.
Momster -
Detective Gordon shook his head as the elderly man shuffled off in the direction he had sent him.
“Damn shame when an old guy can’t even walk the streets without some punk messin with him he thought as he grabbed his coffee cup, raised it to his lips to get a drink, only to find that it was empty.
“I don’t remember finishing it.,” he thought as he got up and walked down the hall to the officers break room to refill his cup.
The break room was empty when he got there and so was the coffee pot. Gordon muttered darkly to himself another asshole that couldn’t be bothered to make a fresh pot when they took the last cup. He quickly filled the pot with water, measured out the grounds, and in short order a pot was brewing, filling the room with the aroma of fresh coffee.
“At least they buy the good stuff here. The last place was hardly better than pencil shavings,” he muttered to himself.
Sipping his freshly filled cup, he made his way back to his desk, sat down, and reached for the file on the Mikal shooting. Only it wasn’t there. Frowning the detective stood up and started searching the top of his desk. Not finding what he wanted he began pulling his drawers open and searching them then slamming them shut. He looked under his desk. No file was to be found, and the box of evidence was gone. Detective Gordon was on his hands and knees, his head under his desk when a cheery voice rang out.
“What did you loose, your virginity?” the voiced laughed.
Startled, Gordon raised his head quickly, smacking it on the under side of his desk. Rubbing his head he stood up and glared and the detective before him.” Very funny Murray. No I didn’t loose my oh never mind I left a file on my desk and a box of evidence under it. Did you see any one take them?”
“Sure someone from evidence came and picked everything up a few minutes ago. He said you authorized it” Detective Murray replied.
“Damn “Gordon exploded, “I never told any one to pick it up. Do you know who it was?”
“Some new guy, never saw him before, said he just started.”
Shaking his head in disgust, Gordon opened his desk drawer un-holstered his service weapon and glared at Murray, “just how long have you been a cop?”
“Up yours “Murray said and stormed off as Gordon headed down to the evidence locker in hopes of finding the man who had taken his file and box and getting it back.
All the way down the elevator, Gordon cursed himself for leaving the evidence unguarded but hell it’s a police station. It should have been safe there. Getting out of the elevator, he made his way down to the evidence locker. As he opened the door to the room filled with boxes and boxes from all the crimes on going, cold as well as closed, he saw three men. Two of the men were standing by the loading dock where a dirty white paneled van was parked with its rear door open. The third man was holding what appeared to be Gordon’s missing evidence.
Gordon stopped and yelled, “Hey what do you think your doing?”
The three men stopped and Jack turned to Gordon and smiled, “its ok officer, we have authorization to turn the evidence over to the your superiors.”
“On whose authority? I never heard anything.” Gordon continued.
“Don’t you hate it when they keep you in the dark? I have the paper work right here.” Jack replied evenly.
Gordon began walking toward Jack his hand on his holster. “OK show me.”
Jack thought darkly to himself, I’ll show you all right, and then he spoke "Sure no worries its right here.”
Jack reached into his pocket but instead of the papers, he pulled out a Sigma .380 and fired. The bullet struck Gordon square in the chest. Fortunately, the bullet struck his ST Christopher medal and was deflected into his shoulder. Gordon dropped to his knees, his gun falling to the floor. He slumped over on his side blood beginning to pool around him on the concrete as he watched Jack walk over to him gun still pointing at him.”
“See what you made me do?” Jack asked”and they told me not to kill anyone but you had to be a good cop and couldn’t leave things well enough alone. Just then, Gordon coughed and bloody bubbles slipped past his pale lips.
“Got you in the lung did I, well how about I just put you out of your misery.”
Jack prepared to fire the gun again when they heard the elevator door open down the hall.
The inside man panicking ran over to Jack and grabbed his arm, “Look you said it your self. You hit his lung, he’s a goner. Lets get out of here before you have to shoot someone else.”
Jack brushed the mans’ hand off his arm and looked down at Gordon who was beginning wheeze and cough.
“Ok your right, he is as good as dead. Lets blow this dump. What are you going to tell them you know about “Jack asked waving his gun in Gordon‘s direction.
“No problem I was out in the alley having a smoke when I came back he was down, nothing I could do, never heard a thing, never saw who did it.”
Jack and Jim finished loading the evidence into the van and quickly drove away. The accomplice left the evidence locker by the same route and walked up the alley to establish his alibi. Pulling his mp3 player out of his pocket, he stuffed the buds into his ears and cranked up the tunes. Pulling a cigarette out of his other pocket, he quickly began to inhale deeply and quickly. He would need to have at least four cigarettes smoked to provide him with long enough alibi for the shooting.
Gordon lay on the concrete floor in the evidence room. His blood pumping slowly out of his body. He could hear people talking in the hallway, they were laughing. Gordon prayed they would come in and find him. He didn’t want to die. Not here, not today, not on his first day as a homicide detective.
He tried to call out but no sound passed his bloody lips.
Deathlok -
Szechwan Beef, Fried Wonton and Pork Yat in hand, Jackie and Winchell approached his apartment. They entered the modest two room apartment. Winchell flicked the light switch.

“With all the things that have happened tonight, you know what I find the most puzzling?” queried Jackie.

“What’s that?” Winchell asked distractedly. “The Comb? The Hair? The Dead Body that isn’t there?”

“That you would eat something called “Yat!”

“The Spaghetti-Os of the Orient.” Winchell replied with a smile. “You are trying it. Just will be insta. . . . .

Winchell stopped in mid-sentence as he and Jackie simultaneously noticed someone sitting in the recliner.

Jackie. . . . Winchell. I’ve been looking everywhere for you two.

“A lie!” thought Winchell. Supervisor X never looked for anyone. He always knew where everyone was and what they were doing. . .. even if they didn’t work for the Company.

“I understand that you have been working hard on locating Mikal. The company appreciates the extra effort you both have put in for a colleague. However, you both have other work to do. The Company has put some high level people on this Rosakoff thing. We should find him soon. You can stop wasting your efforts there. Thanks for taking the ball on this one. If we here something, we’ll let you know. I know he was a friend of sorts.”

With that, Supervisor X got up and walked to the door. “Enjoy your . . . . . .food.” And with that, he closed the door.

“You know he was talking about that Yat stuff.” Said Jackie.

Later as the picked at the remaining Wontons, Jackie caught Winchell’s eye. Making a gesture at the door, she gave her shoulders a little shrug. Winchell held up a finger in caution. He got up went to the sofa reached inside one of the cushions and brought out a small device. He turned it on, gave the room a sweep and said “It’s okay, we can talk!”

“Bug Detector?” Jackie asked, impressed.

“You can never be too careful. As our recent visit will show,” said Winchell.

“So what was that all about, do you think?” asked Jackie.

“What I think is that we better be able to trust each other. Because I think that we may be in a little more trouble that we thought.”

Worried, Jackie picked at the last of the Pork Yat.

Pointing the device in his hand at Jackie, Winchell smirked, “I told you!”
RT -
He could hear them, "How 'bout them Phillies?"

"Yeah, battling for first place, but then they smell up the field with a bad game--as usual."

"This is the year, I can feel it!"

"You're an ass."

"Not as much as you smell like one. Now put out the butt and let's get back upstairs before we get caught down here catching a break."

Just as Detective Schlitzman reached down to salvage the extinguished cigarette, he saw the faint trickle of blood seeping out from under the evidence room door.

As Gordon woke up from surgery, all he could think about was how much he wanted to vomit. The fever, the anesthesia, the tubes coming out of his side, and the thought of what had happened to him made him too sick to want to deal with it. "Nurse. I need something for the pain." And with that, he went back to sleep.

A few days passed and Gordon was feeling isolated. He'd been told that he had visitors, but he had been asleep at the time. However, as far as he knew, only a nurse made it through the gauntlet of protection standing outside of his door. Gordon was beginning to think he was the one being suspected of his own attempted murder.

Groggy from the medication and half awake, he decided he had the strength to watch the television. With his thumb holding steady on the remote he noticed that all that was on was the news. "B-o-r-i-n-g," he thought to himself. Half paying attention, half not, Gordon realized that they were reporting the death of a Detective Gordon killed on his first day as a homicide detective. That's when he noticed something about his room: There was no evidence of visitors--no cards and no flowers, and no windows.
Captain America -
Amalee quietly made her way down the damp alley. Parts of Empire could be very dangerous especially at night. Dirk followed at a discreet distance, watching.

As she reached the old warehouse she slipped inside. The ancient freight elevator hadn't carried anything in years. Silently she climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. When she arrived there was no door to open, nothing to announce her arrival.
The floor, dimly lit from a distant streetlamp squeaked as she crossed. Dirk arrived at the fourth floor landing and listened but did not enter the room.

"It's good that you didn't keep us waiting" a voice said from the shadows.

"We had an arrangement. I'm here to collect not socialize". Amalee replied.

"We have a problem" the voice droned.

"What the f*ck are you trying to pull" Amalee snorted as her hand slipped inside her shoulder bag.

Mikhail Rosakoff isn't dead"
The messenger from the resistance said flatly.

"Thats bullshit,I shot him dead myself" she hissed as her hand clenched the grip of the 9mm pistol. Her breathing slowed, her eyes widened and the muscles in her forearm tensed.

"The body disappeared from the morgue, the Detective working the case was shot and the files have disappeared. Don't you watch the news?" he said sarcastically.

"You guys always knew there was a chance Mikhail could be absorbed into the WRK project. He was instrumental in getting the prototype up and running" That's not going to happen now". "You should be happy with your success".

"Still if he is not TOTALLY dead there is a chance his memory could still be dredged." The messenger pressed.

Amalee pulled the pistol from her bag as she took two long strides toward him. She aimed it directly at his head and qietly intoned :

"We had a deal you weasly f*ck. Your wasting my time. You guys want to bring down the Company. That's why you needed someone like me who could get close to him. What happens after the fact isn't any of my concearn. I suggest you get busy before I blow you away".

She thrust her Tally into his already outstretched hand.

"There's no need for that" the Resistance messenger said sheepishly. "I am fully authorized to complete the transaction".
With that he produced three calculators. He placed Amalee's Tally into them one at a time. The predetermined number of credits were transferred from secret, untraceable Resistance accounts.

When she was satisfied she placed the Tally and the gun back into her bag.

The messenger tried one last protest: "If Mikhail Rosakoff should become a problem at some time in the future our mutual friends will be very, very unhappy".

Amalee was already walking out. "I told you you stupid ass. I shot him. He's fucking DEAD!"

The blonde haired woman rejoined Dirk in the stairway. Together they disappeared down the alley and into the night.



Captain America -
Detective Gordon twirled the standard #2 city issue pencil between his fingers as he studied the preliminary autopsy report.

The white male had indeed been shot twice in the chest at close range. But the gun used was only a 9mm not the large caliber weapon the patrol officer initially reported. Well initial impressions are often well intentioned but just as often wrong. Rookies make mistakes. The close range most likely accounted for the discrepancy.

Aside from the COMPANY I.D. found in his wallet there wasn't much to go on except a single red hair. So someone got close enough to the departed to pump two shots into him without being seen and leave only a red hair behind.

He turned around looked at his computer monitor and began typing...
Old NFO -
Alderson limped into the Detective squad room like a bewildered elderly man who was lost. He walked over to Det. Gordon’s desk and placed his cane on the corner, leaning on the front of the desk.
In a quavering voice he asked, “Scuse me, are you Detective Simmons?”
Gordon glanced up from his computer and replied, “No, Simmons works on the next floor up. What do you need Sir?”
Pointing to the bandage on his head, Alderson said, “I got mugged and was told to make a report to Detective Simmons, sorry for bothering you sir.”
Gordon, distracted, turns back to the computer saying, “no problem sir, up one flight and directly over this office.

Alderson limps out and goes up the stairs, finding Simmons exactly where he was supposed to be. Alderson makes the report of the mugging, gets a ride to the ground floor on the prisoner elevator thanks to one of the Sergeants, and eases out of the Precinct. A gypsy cab is waiting and he carefully maneuvers into the back seat.

The cab driver pulls away from the curb and hands Alderson an earbud and small but complex radio, asking, “How did it go?” Alderson holds up one finger as he removes the fake bandage and places the earbud in his ear.

“Are we secure?”
The cabby flips a switch on the meter and nods. Alderson keys up the radio, waits for the encryption to sync and starts his report, in a quiet competent voice. “Base, 201, Gordon’s desk is bugged, couldn’t physically get to him, so we will need somebody to brush load him later. Did the mugger dump on Simmons, got a desk bug and a collar bug on his coat, and gave him the back office numbers in case he tries to contact me for a follow-up.”
LT Ambler replies, “Base Roger. Any guess as to whether Gordon is Company or not 201?”

Alderson thinks for a couple of seconds, “Base, probably not, he doesn’t look like their typical recruit, and he doesn’t seem to be sweeping this under the rug.”
Ambler, “Understood 201, be advised two Company personnel, one male, one female showed up at Rosakoff’s apartment just after the Detective arrived. No further info at this time. We just got a good download on the bug, so I’ve got Gordon’s case file. Autopsy is in, looks like he picked up a red head at some point. We need for you to shadow the funeral home, pics and audio if possible, no video in case they are scanning. Any potential Company surveillance, get out of the area. Pushing location now. Out.”
“Roger Base, out.”

Looking at the ‘cabbie’, Alderson asks, “Any more questions?”
The cabbie glances in the rear-view mirror, “Nah, more shadowing I take it?”
“Yeah, the funeral home… I need you to pick up what ever fares you can especially leaving the funeral home. Video, at a minimum audio on all, any DNA scraps you can get. Be aware of two Company personnel, one male, one female. Don’t know what their interaction was, but they popped up at the apartment before any notifications were made. They might be players.”
The cabbie nods as Alderson gets back into his old man persona…
Snigglefrits -
Winchell opened the door to the apartment building for Jackie.

“Winch, chivalry is about as dead as your tie and car.”, she laughed as she stepped through the door. They rode up the elevator in silence, Winchell studying the graffiti scribbled on the wall. “Hey Jackie, isn’t this your phone number under ‘For a good time call’?”.

She was scowling at him when the doors opened. As they stepped out, they noticed a crowd gathered in the hallway near Mikal’s apartment. Jackie’s pace quickened to a near run as she heard the word “found dead” trailing from someone’s mouth. As she reached the crowd, she realized it wasn’t Mikal’s door everyone was gathered around, but the door to nosy old Mrs. Patterson’s apartment.

The maintenance man had gone to her apartment shortly before to fix her radiator and had found her dead on the kitchen floor. Neighbors were gathered postulating on the cause of her death. One suggested a heart attack, another stroke. “She probably did die of a heart attack caused by her own mind racing when she thought she’d seen something.”, Jackie whispered to Winchell. “Remember the night the three of us worked on the Smithson project? You left around 11:30 and I walked out 10 minutes behind you? Well, she’d told half the floor we were having some kinky threesome activities that night. Nosy bat.”.

“Jackie! Don’t speak ill of the dead.”, Winchell jokingly admonished as he started knocking on Mikal’s door. With just the pressure of his knocking, the door swung open. Jackie stepped through the door. “Mikal? Hey Mikal, it’s me, Jackie and Winch. Your door was open…”.

She stopped in her tracks. “Whoa! When did he get a maid?”, she asked. Winchell stepped into the apartment behind her. He was shocked as well. He’d never seen Mikal’s apartment so clean and neat. Hell, the last time he was there, there’d been a pair of dirty underwear on the kitchen counter. Now, the only thing out of place was this being Mikal’s apartment.

“Winch, go see if he’s in the bathroom.”, Jackie suggested. “Why me?”, he questioned. “Because you’re a guy, guys go to the bathroom together, so you go look and see if he’s in there and fell in the shower or something.”.

Winchell knocked on the bathroom door. Finally he cautiously opened the door, flipped on the light and found it empty. “Not in here either Jackie.”, he hollered back toward the living room. As he turned to leave, he noticed the one thing out of place in the whole apartment- a hairbrush. Mikal had been bald for the last ten years. He picked up the brush as Jackie entered the bathroom. “I checked his answering machine, nothing on it but my eight calls from earlier…hey, who’s hairbrush?”, she trailed off.

Winchell shrugged. “Don’t know, but by the looks of it, she had long red hair.”
As Winchell and Jackie were making their way to Mikals apartment Amalee was moving quickly and quietly through the streets making her way to the helicopter hovering close to the ground in an empty lot a mile and a half away. As she approached the chopper, a hand extended through the door and pulled her up and into a passionate embrace. Rough hands ran trough her long red hair and pulled her closer for a punishing kiss. Amalee moaned deep in her throat and return the kiss as her hands roamed down his backside.
With his hands still in her hair, Dirk pulled back and asked. “Everything go all right?”
“Why do you ask? I know what I’m doing.” She replied.
“I know it’s just that you’re a little closer to this one.” He started running his hands over her lush curves.
“You mean because I was married to him?”
“Yeah that would be it.” Dirk replied sarcastically “Does the company know they hired you to off your ex?”
“No they only know me as Amalee not Andrea and once I knew who the target was I saw no reason to tell them.”
“Did you hate him that much?”
“I would have killed him for free but getting paid makes it all the sweeter. “
“Why did you marry him?”
“He bought me nice things and he was good in bed. “ She smirked.
“So you’re ok with killing you ex and the father of your children?” Dirk asked.
Amalee snorted, “It was a job they paid very well, hell, and I’d kill my own mother if the price was right.”
“You really are a cold heated bitch aren’t you?” Dirk said kissing her again as the helicopter flew off into the distance.

As Jackie waited for Winchell to open the door to Mikal’s apartment building she watched a dirty white panel van drive away, barely registering its presence she soon forgot it. The van and its occupants were far more important then she could ever imagine. The two men drove with out speaking until the sound of a cell phone ringing broke the silence.
“This is Jack.”
“Is it done?” queried the voice.
“All spic and span nobody will ever know there was a body there.”
“You’re sure.” The voice continued.
“Not a trace was left, we’re safe.” Jack assured him.
“You know what you need to do now.”
Jack looked over at his partner Jim and rolled his eyes before continuing, “We know we need to get rid of the body and all other evidence connected to it. Don’t worry we know what to do. By the time were through nothing will remain of the looser.”
“You can deal with the police evidence and detective Gordon?”
“The evidence is no problem we have a contact in the department and Gordon will dealt with one way or another. When we are through there will not be a trace left from this hit anywhere. This is one bad penny that won’t be turning up a gain.”
“You better be right or this whole thing could fall apart.” The voice said.
“Trust us it will be done.” Jack replied.
“Try and keep the killing to a minimum.” the voice replied.
Chuckling Jack turned to Jim and covered the mouthpiece with his hand, “They want us to keep the killing to a minimum.”
Jim snorted, “What fun is that?”
Jack laughed back and answered the voice.” You got it; we will only kill when we have to.”
Both men started laughing as they continued towards police head quarters.
RT -

"Dirk, we have work to do," Amalee said while rebuffing his kiss.

"Damn, woman, you're harder to read than blog-story writing fest! No, bother. We're ready to land. Call forward to The Company and tell them Darkhorse is coming back to the stable."

"Got it. Oh, and the kiss really wasn't that bad."

Back in Winchell's car, Jackie was examining the brush they took from Mikal's apartment. "Did he know anyone with red hair?"

"Other than Andrea? No, not that I know of, but I really don't care so much as I am wondering what happened to Mikal."

While Winchell seemed just like a concerned friend, he just had that nagging feeling that he was now caught up in something he couldn't get himself out of. The pensive look on his face wasn't lost on Jackie, though.

"Something bad is going on, eh?"


"Guess, we can only trust each other, eh?"


Jackie, not satisfied with one-word answers said, "Look, you've got to talk about this, and we have to debrief, as the big guys say. What do you say we get some Chinese and go back to your apartment to try to figure out what the hell is going on."




Old NFO -
What Gordon didn't know was the ID had already been passed to Dispatch and they had keyed the name into the NCIC database, which popped a screen alert inside a government facility located outside Washington, DC.

LT Ambler sat up quickly when the alert popped in, as this was the first real alert he had ever seen.

He scrambled through his checklist and started notifications up the chain, even as he copied off the specifics of the query-

Time- 0950

Location- Philly

Query Orig- Philly PD Dispatch- query for Mikal Rosakoff

Query Type- Standard wants and warrarents, address, SSN, DL, etc.

"Mister" Firestone arrived before Col Hart, and immediately started quizzing Ambler, even though there was no additional information available and everything was still on the screen. LT Ambler simply handed the log to "Mister" Firestone, and waited for the Colonel.

When the Colonel arrived, he asked what else LT Ambler had done, the LT said, "Nothing Sir, didn't want to start a proxy check as this might be a routine request from a traffic stop or something like that."

The Colonel said, "Well, go ahead and activate the tracker, lets see what Mr. Rosakoff is up to right now."

Lt Ambler, turning slightly to block is access code, keyed in the command to activate the tracker, and waited for the ping and cycles to finish their secure protocols.

Suddenly he leaned toward the screen, then said, "Col, he's dead! Looks like he is in Philly, but I've got to translate these points onto an area map to confirm exact location."

Colonel Hart leaned over, picked up the phone, dialed a 16 digit number and as soon as it was answered said, "Activate Sureshot Protocol"; then hung up.
Snigglefrits -
Winchell tried to concentrate on his assigned work without much luck. Every since Jackie brought it to his attention Mikal was nowhere to be found, he’d been concerned.

Mikal hadn’t been very reliable recently. He’d show up for work late and leave early, but he always did at least show up. He’d known Mikal for what seemed like forever, but lately they never talked and water cooler rumors had spread like wildfire.

Mikal was hanging out in the shadier part of town. He was seeing questionable women. Some rumors even claimed he had a drug problem. Knowing the results of the random drug testing The Company regularly did proved the last rumor to be untrue, so Winchell wasn’t sure the others were any more accurate.

He glanced over at Jackie. Every time the door opened, her head snapped toward it. As the day wore on, her look of concern grew. She been trying to call him every five minutes, getting nothing but voicemail.

Winchell thought about calling someone, but was at a loss as to who to call. Mikal had no family left and had long been divorced. Briefly, he considered calling Andrea, the ex-wife, but quickly nixed that idea. Andrea considered The Company to be what ended their marriage. She didn’t take kindly to anyone remotely involved with the company calling on her, for any reason. Since she now had her perfect husband, the 2 kids, and white picket fence out in the suburbs, it wasn’t likely she’d know what was going on with Mikal anyway.

Winchell stood up and stretched. It wasn’t like him to involve himself in the lives of others, but this was Mikal. No matter how distant they were now, they had once been close friends.

He walked over to Jackie. “After work, why don’t we ride over to Mikal’s place and see if he’s dodging our calls or sick. Maybe he had one too many last night and turned the ringer off on his phone?”.

Jackie knitted her brows together. “I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel right. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is just not right. Are we taking your car or mine?”.
Deathlok -
Winchell told Jackie that he would drive. Normally, any chance to use a vehicle made in the 21st Century as transportation was a blessing, but Winchell had an unexplainable love for his car. A “crapshoot” to drive. Winch had no doubt that somewhere in Vegas, some odds maker was laying a line on whether or not the Cavalier would reach it’s destination. 2 to 1 on whether it would even start.

“You and this car. You really need to take this thing out back and shoot it. It would be the humane thing to do, Winch.”

“Fuck That! This car loves me. It’s saved my life more than once. We have a kindred spirit.“

“Yeah, I always said that you were a little loose in the steering box.”

“Nice! Hey! It beats driving around in “The Beast.”

“There is that.”

On the drive over, Winchell started thinking about Mikal.

“So, what was this conference call about?”

“Some new prototype. It’s still in the development stages. I don’t know too much about it.”

Winchell did a quick double take and then tried to regain his composure. Could they have been meeting about him?
Momster -
Stalling for time while he tried to figure out the connection between his meeting with his supervisor and Mikal he reached over and turned on his mp3 player. The sounds of Nickelback filled the car.
Jackie chuckled softly and said, “I swear you were born in the wrong century.”
“Good music is good music it doesn’t matter how old it is.” Winchell said with a grumpy tone.
“You just keep on believing that and maybe someday thin ties will come back too.” Jackie said, still laughing.
Holding his very unfashionably thin tie with his free hand he waved it in Jackie’s direction, “This is a very nice tie.”
Jackie laughed at him again this time louder. Winchell pulled up across the street from MIkals apartment turned off the car and pointed up at the third floor corner apartment.
“That’s his place you want to stay here or come with me?” Winchell asked.
Jackie got out of the car smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt and looked up at Mikal’s apartment window before answering, “I’ll go with you.”
“Ok” Winchell replied closing the car door with a thump that made the whole car rattle.
They started across the street when a coroner’s wagon pulled up in front of the building. Two men exited the wagon went to the back and removed a gurney complete with empty body bag laying on top, tossed there like a sack of dirty clothes . They disappeared into the building. Jackie looked at Winchell worry clouding her pretty green eyes.
“This doesn’t look good.” She murmured.
“We don’t know it’s for MIkal,” countered Winchell.
“What are the odds that he’s late for work and there’s a stiff in his building at the same time?”
Looking down at his feet Winchell replied, “Well there’s only one way to find out, let’s go inside.”
Meanwhile, back at the station house. . . .

Go To Part 4. . . . .



Wyatt -
Half a mile away, Detective Gordon walked onto the crime scene with a spring in his step. Although he despised day work, he got over it quickly. Today was his first day working in the Homicide Division, and nothing – not even his first corpse – was going to get him down.

“What do we have?” Gordon asked.

“White male, approximately thirty-five years old, shot twice in the chest with a large caliber pistol,” the patrol officer replied. “We got the call from police radio, but there doesn’t seem to be any witnesses forthcoming. Go figure.”

“Swell,” Gordon said. “Is there any ID on the body?”

“Yeah,” the officer replied. “And you’re not going to like it. This poor sap worked for The Company.”

“Damnit,” Gordon muttered.
Jim@bRight&Early -
Winchell tried to lose himself in mind-numbing tasks that allowed him time to think. A good plan in theory, but instead of concentrating on the choices that were bearing down on him his mind found more interesting rabbit trails to wander on.

He was making a useless mental list of all of the jobs he held since high school while the computer in front of him crunched data, but otherwise ignored him. Suddenly he became aware that his mind had stopped concentrating on even the things he wasn't getting paid to think about. He was even more aware of the reason why.

Jackie's perfume announced her arrival moments before her head appeared at the cubicle's opening. It wasn't an overpowering scent, but to Winchell it was as powerful a Pavlov's bell.

"Winch", Jackie asked, "have you seen Mikal? He was supposed to join me on a conference call fifteen minutes ago."

"No, I haven't," Winchell replied with just a hint of jealousy. "In fact, now that I think about it, I don't remember seeing 'The Beast' in it's parking spot."
Captain America -
Amalee pulled the zipper of the black leather boot closed just shy of the back of her knee. She quickly finished changing and dropped the Walther pistol into a clear plastic bag. As she did so she made a mental note of where she would dispose of the weapon. In another minute the curvaceous red head would leave the apartment for good, no trace of her ever being there.
For the other residents of the massive apartment block there would be barely a memory of her and her gentleman caller. She would be just another fleeting face among the thousands who lived in the one hundred and fifty story building.

Her assignment completed she wanted to collect her payment without delay. She knew the resistance was often short on funds and hanging around waiting to get paid with an outlaw weapon wasn't her idea of fun. She slipped another 9mm into her thigh holster(a girl couldn't be too careful) grabbed her bag and looked around one final time. Not a trace.
As the door of the safe apartment closed behind her she could hear the helicopter in the distance. Right on time.

There is a saying in the world of forensics: The criminal always leaves a part of them self behind.
Go To Part 3 . . . . .



Let’s try something new. . . .It’s kinda a meme tag, but a little different. Let’s see how it goes. . . . and how long it goes.

The Rules

I’ve started a story. . .one paragraph. I will then tag someone. They will write the next paragraph and list it in the comments column. And then tag someone else. If you can’t think of someone to tag, tag me and I’ll send it in another direction. Repeat as necessary. The story has to remain coherent but you can take it in any direction that you want.


The day started out like any other. . .snooze alarm, quick shower, a quick look in the cabinets before accepting that there isn’t time for breakfast and off to work. Unlocking the door of the 1993 Chevy Cavalier, Winchell noticed another new ding in the body of the car.

“I swear to God, that wasn’t there when I got out. People must be sideswiping me in the driveway while I’m sleeping.” Winchell muttered to himself disgustedly.

It’s not like he was talking to anyone else, because nobody else was up at this hour of the morning. The car started as smoothly as the $1200 repair job would allow, which was a relief. Plugging the newly loaded generic MP3 player into the cassette adapter, his journey to the world of the working masses began.
JT -
The only problem was that the masses were no longer really a mass at all. The automation project was working just as the creators said it would, and the need for "masses" was being reduced a little more each cycle.
Eventually, it seemed to Winchell, even his position would fall prey to the process. After that, well, he would deal with that when the time came. For the time being, however, he was content to remain unnoticed by the project.
RT -
As Winchell arrived to work, thoughts of flying under the radar and making do until his time came to move on resonated with him. He'd been a company guy, always on time, and never a problem with his work or its quality. He didn't make waves and those that controlled his status with The Company liked it that way.

Later that day, he was called into the supervisor's office.

"Winchell," Supervisor X said with a snarl, "We have a change coming to The Company. You have been chosen to be part of the automation project to bring stability to the workforce. You will be used as a model for our prototype WRKRB-E10."

Perplexed and slightly amused, given his sarcastic nature, Winchell asked, "Will I be a number or a free man?" Throwing out a reference to British television was sure to catch Supervisor X off-guard, or so he thought.

Without missing a beat, Supervisor X warned Winchell that this was not a matter to take lightly. "You will be comfortable, and you will be paid handsomely. We will discuss this more in a few days. Be prepared for change." Nodding his head in the affirmative, Winchell made his way back to his work station feeling slightly confused and very aware that he needed to make some serious decisions.

He had to stay to fight the automation from within, or he had to flee and fight from the outside. Either way, Winchell knew he had to fight, even with the power of The Company against him.
Go To Part 2. . . .



blog readability test

TV Reviews

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

8 Seconds

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Captain America & Deathlok - Perfect Together

When Cap mentioned that he like Robots (refering to the new header). .well, them is fightin' words for any self respecting Cyborg. So I present this:

But soon it was back to the Blog Story, fighting side by side:

CowBoy Hat Tip

We interupt the Blog Story to bring you this word of thanks.

Thanks to the due diligence of Wyatt (he on the right, I'm too tired to hyperlink), I have a new banner for THE TEMERITY OF HIGH MAINTENANCE!

It's Lovely! Thanks Wyatt! Now back to the story . . . .