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Walter Miller's Homepage(TM)

Where every day is Halloween

The Summer 2001 Update

Page 31 of 50

From loudspeakors set in the drop ceiling up above we were startolled by an anouncement from the public adress system.

We all had to go file into the audotorium again

Yes it was anothor Emmergency All Hands Staff meeting. The third highest ranking executtive in the company, The Lady who Screams at Everyone, got up to speak. Actualy scream. My God, she hollored at us like we were a bunch of worthless peices of scum. And becuase it was Cyberblop Dress-Up-Day, she was dresed like Little Bo Peep.

I am sort of sure that I have mentionned that The Lady who Screams at Everyone is kind of a nice looking womon. She is petite and has a prety face. Actualy she is more than atractive, she is downright hot looking, but of course in a professionol way. Allot of people beleive that only because she is so nice looking can she get away with holloring at people.

"I recieved an unsollicited spam the other day," she began, in her normal, conversationol scream...Oh crap! I am the person in charge of makin sure that the Company Executives dont get no spam in their mailboxes. (Talk about an imposible task. No wonder I get teribble performence evaluations). She paused for a moment, her little pinched face undor the Bo Peep bonnet spittin daggers at us all.

"About ten years ago," she contineued, methodically jabbing the crooked woodon shepherd's hook she held in her tiny fist downword on the linolium floor of the stage with sucessively loud booms, "One of the majer airlines decided to include one less olive on each salad served in the First Class section. In one year they were suprised to see that this move saved them forty thousand dollors. I am here to tell each and every one of you sitting here right now that YOU are that olive!!"

By now she was whipped up into a loud scream of how unimportant, insignifficant, and worthless we all were to "the bottem line" of Cyberblop.

Next, all of us who did not particippate in "Dress Up Day" all got hollored at. We were told that we were all "inhibitors" or in othor words, dull people stoppin the flow of progress in terms of increassing morale. And only because she was in a good mood, boosted by the buoyancy of her own moraly uplifting masqourade as Little Bo Peep, were big ass honkin' demerits not to be added to our Personnel Files.

My upper arm felt a sharp pain as Cathyann grabbed it and shook me like a ragdoll. "That's YOU Walter. You done DIDN'T dress up," she scolded. Cathyann canot just grab your arm. She has to latch her little stumpy fist on me with all her stregnth as if there was a big boil on it she was tryin to pop.

"Oh yeah well what are YOU dressed as?" I whispored. She took in her othor hand the ID card of her boyfreind that hung by a chain on her neck and pushed it into my face. "I'm dressed like a lunch lady dressed like Britney Spears dressed in Jenifer Lopez pants dressed to go to work as mah boyfreind DUUU-WAYNE! BWAHAHAHA!!"

The second item on the agenda

It was Fire Drill Non Compliance. This was such a problem that an Emergencey Task Force was now to be creatted to deal with this.

Then, as she stood there screamming up on stage, in a drammatic attempt to intimmidate us all, Little BoPeep gestured to all the people sittin in the front row, who I'd not yet even noticed. They all rose up, and walked single file onto the stage behind her. It was a thin khaki line of uniformed sherriffs and deputies from the little town where Cyberblop was located.

God Help Us

The Lady Who Screams at Everyone raised her voice above the sound of shuffoling tromping boots climbing the stage steps, and as they finally all stopped, and turned to face us, twelve or fifteen of them, arms folded and scowling, she now at top speed and her highest shrillest pitch screammed and screammed and screammed that we had bettor say or prayers, becuase THESE tough looking folks were the Law Enforcment people who we coud expect to arrest us and toss our asses in jail if God help us we were ever cought STAYING BEHIND IN THE BUILDING DURRING A FIRE DRILL

Sitting up on the stage near her in a coupel of office chairs were Mr. Peckushay and Mr. Bouvard, who were the President and CEO. Peckushay nudged Bouvard, who looked like he was napping, and then he got up to make a few remmarks. Bouvard was dressed like a caveman, with a big furry bear hide swept over one shouldor. Seated on the other side of me, Stu whispored, "Whoa. Bouvard's got bigger teats than me." I replied to Stu, "The way he is wearin that hide you can only see one of them."

Bouvard clearred his phlemmy throat and said severely in the microphone that as JUST A REMINDER, God will NOT help us as a mattor of fact. Because due to a company Workplace Tolorance Policy especially designed to not offend, both prayer and God did indeed remain specificaly banned from Cyberblop premesis. Even at the end of the fiscol year.

The Lady Who Screams at Evereyone went back to the mike and screamed some more. She is hot on the fastrack to challenge the Number 2 man Peckushay in suceeding Mr. Bouvard as President of Cyberblop if ever Bouvard shoud retire, die, or expload from drinking too much gin. (Removal of Bouvard by the Board for incompetence is not an option. Remembor, this is the Internet industry) and beside all that there is no proverbiol "glass ceiling" holding this woman back and if there was she'd be able to friggin shattor it with her loud Screaming mouth.

I wasnt back at my desk for two minutes when the phone rang. It was Granfather screamming. Screamming at me, and screamin at Junior, who was there dialing the numbers for him.


"No Granfather. Try forgiveness and reconsilliation instead," I said but this was not the answor he was looking for.


Granfather verbaly abused me, and normaly I woud of hung up on him. But I must admit it was wonderful even just to talk to him. Aftor all these months I was sure he was gone forever. Now that he was back I was NOT goingto let hatred and selfishness stand in the way of restoring our family and so I treid to tell him, "Let go of the bittorness. It only hurts you and not Uncle Zeke. It only eats away at you from the inside."

THAR AIN'T NOTHIN' LEFT O'MY INSIDES. THEM CRIPTOES SAID I WAS DONE SCRAPED CLEAN, YOU DUMBASS!" he screammed most horiffically and demonically and from the sound of it, at the top of his lungs through a cigarette cletched tight in his teeth.

Actualy Granfather indeed did NOT have anything left in his insides.

Yes the criptoes were right. Granfather was really no more than an empty huskey shell: a freakin piñata without no candy in it yet. Howevor, thanks to his regennerative reptile DNA he was able to grow new organs, a process that began slowly aftor he was scraped clean. As to whethor the old basterd is part crustacean as well, I do not know. I can however attest that he is very very crusty.

The phone rings agian