Poked By The Ball

The door has a vivid poster on it. The top line is written in a font bigger than the rest. A nice, shiny "I", followed by the not so ceremonious and yet overused word "Shit" is written. Below the I'shit, we can see "ON PEOPLE" written in all caps; giving out an air of arrogance and pride. By now, it was clear to Steve that this ought to be the office of the head honcho. 

But I'shit was not the end of it. There was this interesting graphic image which is popular and well distributed via forwarded emails. There's a tall multi-branched tree in the poster. A big bird is sitting on the top branch, and all other birds are sitting in branches below him. Each bird below the big bird has their heads covered with "white stuff", which has striking resemblance with bird excreta. 

While he was taking a good look at the poster and wondering his next step, Steve heard a loud glass shattering noise and a yelp. Before he could react, a suit clad bulky guy shoved him aside and ran past him like a rocket gone haywire. 

He didn't get enough time to recover from this "heavy" interruption. He heard someone yelling "I am gonna kill that fucking faggot." Steve quickly redirected his vision towards the source of the cursing, and found an intimidating person holding an empty glass. He was wearing a polo t-shirt, which once was dry and ironed, but now it seemed completely wet. Beneath his legs, Steve saw a puddle of liquid substance and the remnants of a broken bottle. 

Steve, being the analytic he is, quickly added two plus two and inferred that the olympic runner is the  source of this carnage, and now the t-shirt guy wants to kill him. 

"What are you looking at you dumbshit?" Boomed the t-shirt guy.

Steve, despite of being a self conscious, confident and proud person, stammered back "I err, umm....I'm here to see Mr. Randy". 

"The hell you are. He's wasted. Don't bother knocking. Wait a while and you will be called", came the reply. 

Suddenly Steve felt a poking pain in his head, and saw a small plastic ball in front of him. Once again, his analytic mind told him that he has just been poked by the ball in the head. It is like having spider sense, thought Steve! Always being conscious about the surroundings. Dad said I'd be dumb if I don't take notice of the surroundings.

He looked around and found an extremely cute young girl smiling at him from a short distance. She was batting her eyelashes and looking at him intently through the pink spectacles she was wearing. The big glasses made her look a bit comical, but her revealing clothes, enticing smile and playful looks were distracting enough to kill any comedy element in the whole situation. 

What sounded like a barking dog with a distorted vocal chord came out as another yell from the t-shirt dude--"You fucking slut, what the fuck do you think you are doing? Get your ass back to work and leave that pussy alone"!

Steve was awestruck. He couldn't recall another half an hour where he was called dumbshit and pussy in quick succession. When he used to wear the sombrero and wield the dual beretta's, he would have blasted anyone who dared insult him in this manner. He put both of his hands inside his pockets and gave the guy a nasty glare.

Then he remembered. He only wore sombreros in his dreams. While awake, he finds them stupid and he also hates anyone Mexican, Spaniard or the whole lot of Latinos. He considers them lazy, pathetic lying cheating and stealing beings whom are infesting the united states of 'merica with their silly attires and retarded gestures. All of them should die the way Eddie got eaten up. 

He didn't realize it, but his hand-pocketing made an impression. The t-shirt guy looked concerned, and his right hand was moving towards a button on the wall. Steve's patience had worn out by then. Gone, exhausted, and not to be refilled anytime soon.

He shouted in his Bee Gees voice (yeah, the voice that was common for two of the brothers, the third one had a different one)-"You stupid cunt. Don't even dare touching that button!". 

The girl with next to no clothes had her mouth open; instantly. The gaping hole created a gap through which a piranha or a baby elephant could jump inside. Well, maybe not a real elephant, but a stuffed variant would easily go through. 

At that exact moment, Steve noticed that everyone in the room was looking at him intently, and there were actually 4-5 others in the room. Every eye was fixated upon his pocketed arms, with a look of fear and trepidation, and there was actually pin drop silence. 

Suddenly, heavy footsteps were heard. What seemed like an army entering ended with the loud door crashing entrance of the "fucking faggot", as termed by the t-shirt guy. He came in and was just going to say something, and then he saw our "arm-pocketed" hero. 

His open mouth stayed open, as his slow brain slowly processed the situation. It seemed to him that someone is here to rob the bank, and he amused the audience by making another quick exit. 

At that moment, Steve got deprived of the opportunity to take a look at the I'shit poster for the first time since he entered this "office". The door opened with a loud creaking noise, and a tiny man came out of the door. He was dressed in black; a black suit, a black tie, black shoes and a black hat. He even had a black mustache.  He looked surprisingly similar to John Larkin, but this guy, the "head honcho" seemed a lot smaller. 

He gave a questioning look at Steve, and instantly realized the tensed situation in the room. He was also going to open his mouth, but Steve interrupted.

"Don't bother opening that fucking hole. I've seen my share of open mouthed morons today". 

So he complied. Steve said "Are you Randy?"

"Umm no, but my name is. Who's asking?"

"I am Steve. I have an interview with you which was supposed to start 30 odd minutes ago. These moronic cohorts of yours held me up from getting in"

Randy smiled meekly. 

"Oh, hello Steve. When can you join?"

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"Yes, I am making you the boss of these assholes. They are now your moronic cohorts. You listen up buddy! They are now your problem, I will get back to sleep now."

Leaving Steve perplexed, Randy got back to his office leaving behind a loud bang and a tough job. 

"What are you looking at, you scums? Get your asses back to work and someone fetch that fat dumbfuck that ran away." shouted Steve, and there started a new era in stark naked industries....the world's weirdest office. 

"Sigh, and I didn't even talk about the paid vacations!"