Lenny spun around in his chair repeatedly. It was 4PM, yet far from quittin' time for him. He dreaded the thought of another 13-hour day. Since he had 0 deals so far, he knew he'd be there all night unless he made the magic happen, fast.
Rrrring! Rrrring! *Tap* "Helloooh?"
"Hello, can I speak to Ms. Mary Bourgeois, please?" he asked pleasantly.
"Speaking."
"Hello, Ms. Bourgeois! My name is Rico Jameson. How are you today?" he asked with a smile.
"Good, yourself?"
"I'm doing wonderful, thanks for asking!" Lie number two. "Ma'am, I'm calling today to offer you a GREAT opportunity: complete metal resolution!" Lie number three. "We can slice your negative metal in half with just a few easy steps! Now, you'd like to purge yourself of negative metal, wouldn't you?"
"Who wouldn't?"
"Exactly! So ma'am, if you don't mind me asking...how much metal are you interested in purging, right now?" A long silence. Damn, fuckin phone went dead again!"...Ma'am? Are you still with me?"
Another long silence. Lenny, desperate, waited. She finally piped up with, "Can I ask you something?"
He didn't like the tone of her voice. "Of course!" he replied with enthusiasm.
"Is 'Rico Jameson' your REAL name?"
"Why yes! Yes of course it is!" Lie number four. Another disconcerting silence. "...Ma'am?"
"I don't believe you." She sounded angry.
"We-hell-"
"You sound like an D-list porn star!"
"Woah, ma'am! Take it easy!" He was mock offended. "I'm just trying to save you some iron, that's all!"
"Oh, sure you are! Sure you are! I should totally trust you, 'Rico!'" You're my knight in shining armor, come to save me from my metal woes! HAH! Deceptive little scum!"
"Ma'am, hear me out-"
"YOU people are the lowest form of life possible. Vultures, and not in a good way! You prey on the desperate, for WHAT? For a fucking mercedes?" His own pictorally emerged. "You see people drowning, dupe them into grabbing your line, and then bleed them to death once they're on your deck! Tell me, is your mother proud of herself for raising a financial executioner?!" He choked. His mother was dead. "Oh, wait! Am I being too harsh? You're 'just doing your job,' right? Come on, no one buys that excuse. What you are doing is devastating desperate people. Do you know how many broken families, homeless people, divorces, illnesses, homicides and suicides are due to the economic graves that you help bury people in?! You're SICK! FUCKING SICK, AND YOU DESERVE THAT FATE YOURSELF!" Lenny gasped. "Excuse my anger. You think I'm some crazy bitch, don't you?" He did.
"Ahh..." Len warbled, terried. Out to catch The Big One, he now found himself on a Nantucket Sleigh Ride to the bottom of the sea.
"What happens if the people you rob and bury underfoot exhume themselves one day? The 'poor people' that you screw over and make fun of can do much more than you think. Strength in numbers, and their ranks are swelling thanks to assholes like you. This is not funny, trust me. Disparaged people are angry, and they're everywhere. That's right, keep bloating the lower classes, keep tempting fate. Things are falling apart, and it's shitheads in institutions like YOURS who are responsible! None of you are indomitable. None of you. I'll see you at the guillotine." SLAM!
For several minutes Lenny listened to the dialtone, thoroughly stultified. "Oh my god...I can't..." His mind imploded. Ms. Bourgeois' harangue sent a lightning bolt through his skull.
"Lenny?! What the fuck is ya problem?" Ant barked.
"I just...Sorry Ant, I don't feel so well all of a sudden. I need a minute."
"Minute's up bub! Get back to work! I'll keep you here till 10:00 if I have to! Ahahahhaha!"
Lenny stared back, empty. Motherfucker's crazy.
"EARTH TO LEN! WAKE UP, STUPID!" Ant hollered in his face. "Jesus, you look like you just saw Art naked!" Everyone who wasn't on a metalcall yelped.
"He'd probably enjoy that," Art sneered. More whoops.
Lenny jumped up, knocking over his chair in an explosion of pent up rage. Even Ant felt a little threatened. "Man, I'll cut your fucking head off," he spat, nose to nose with Art, who stared back at him like he had just heard a bad joke.
"Get out of here, Len," pumped Ant, reclaiming his authority. "Go to lunch, ok? Better yet go see a psychiatrist, ya schitzo!"
Lenny trudged away. "Hold it!" yelled Dan from his personal portal. "Lenny, we need to talk." For the first time ever, Shamu sounded upset with him. Is this because I almost ripped open Art VanDeLye? Whatever, man, Dan knows me. He'll understand.
Dan slammed the door. His face was flushed. Lenny never saw this side of him before. He rose his weightlifting-inflated arm and struck the side of Lenny's head. "What the FUCK did you think you were doing, letting that cunt talk you down like that?! You gave her the entire conversation!" Oh my god. He was listening in! I'm done. "I've heard women on their first day do better than that!" (There were two saleswomen. How they survived the salesmens' perverse inferno, no one knew.) "But from YOU, Lenny? My star quarterback? Totally unacceptable." Dan zoomed closer and sneered. "If you get off on letting bitches push you around, fine, but DO IT ON YOUR OWN TIME! When you're in this yard you represent Metal Parade, and Metal Parade listens to no one and nothing but METAL! Your function is to buy and sell, and you do whatever it is that you have to do make a fucking deal, ok?! Flatter people, commiserate with them, tell jokes, lie to them, I DON'T CARE! But don't you DARE waste my time!" This can't be happening. This isn't real. "You came in second in metalgrabbing last year, so this time I'll look the other way. But if it happens again," he cracked a small grin, "I'm feeding you to Ant. And it'll be messy." Lenny was speechless.
Dan collected himself, fixing his collar and smoothing his hair. He patted his face with a cosmetic blotter. "Now, get out of here and go to lunch."
For the first time in over a year, Lenny was about to cry. Walking towards the exit, he tried to act natural. "Well, it looks like you're doing a wonderful job holding down the fort!" Old Nick told Ant.
"I try to keep these clowns in line, " Ant smiled arrogantly. "Keep'em out of Dan's hair."
©M. F. Lemoine
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