CLANK: A Book of Madness (Psychological Satire Novel) Unsettled Office Worker Loses the Last Screw by Draven Madpen Read Free Book Online Page A

conclude that there will be no future meetings.
    There’s no need to sit and
listen to such insipid drivel. The empty blathering of an egotistical
dunderhead. The soporific prattling of a fool.
    However, I did receive one
benefit from the gathering. If you wish to call it that. This little episode
granted me to the opportunity to see exactly just what kind of ill-formed,
mouth breathing, moronic ignoramuses work in my building. I never wish to see
such a nauseating sight as long as I live… Gadzooks! Do I see it? Yes, yes
I do. That flashing movement of the eye. Natasha had been staring at me. I’m
certain of it. My head turned in her direction and her eyes averted
immediately. I wonder what she was looking at. My charming demeanor? Muscular
physique? Neither of which I possess. She’s avoiding my gaze, looking away as
if I am an old man’s heavily infected exposed crotch region. This gives me the
perfect opportunity to inspect her features, absent of risk.
    Her hair is letdown today,
being draped along the neck, flowing magnificently over her shoulders to about
mid-back level. She’s wearing a peerless white blouse and spectacular black
skirt. Her tan skin looks radiant against the colors. I can’t wait to get home
and “cartoonize” this woman. But I mustn’t look too long. That would be a bit
odd to stare for an inordinate amount of time, wouldn’t it? So I make a quick
note of her nose and chin protrusions before exiting the room. The remaining
workers slowly come back to what little senses they have and trickle out of the
lounge like dazed idiots, wondering what exactly it was they had witness.
Everyone is clueless. I’m loving the day.
     
    Back at the office I know a
confrontation with Wilmer is due at any moment. Sure enough. He enters the room
(muscle shake in hand) and without saying a word waves me into his office. I
follow obediently (the shamed dog walk). But what’s he going to say? The
nametags were a little below the expected quality. Big deal. It was menial
work to begin with. Let’s get on with the overblown, pretentious comments.
    “Jones,” he says, still
holding a strained smile. “The nametags were… a little below the expected
quality.” I never saw it coming.
    “Yeah, about that,” I say
before rattling off my prepared answer. “The pen I was using had a dented tip
and I couldn’t write straight with it.”
    I anticipate the question he’s
going to ask but don’t give him a chance. “There wasn’t enough time to find
another one. I was running behind schedule as it was.”
    After a long, drawn-out sigh
he says, “That’s okay. You did your best. In the future please try to be a bit
more prepared… Good work today!” There’s that sickening smile again. I look at
the clock. 12:40… Christ, lunchtime. The thought of enduring one second of his
interminable clanks is unbearable. I’m forced to think fast, efficiently or run
the risk of dying within the next few minutes.
    “Mr. Cromwell,” I blurt
amiably. “How about I take you out to lunch today?”
    “Well I’m not sure,” he
hesitates. I know I’m losing him. But the clanking must not begin.
    “Sure, comon, Mr. Cromwell.
It’s the least I can do to make up for the nametag debacle.” I’ll say anything
to get him away from that oversized glass bowl. His face softens. I can tell
I’ve snagged him.
    “I’m buying!” I throw in add
just to solidify his answer. Then I recall he is a big eater due to all the
muscular bulk… and I’m on a secretaries, err, lawyer’s assistant’s salary.
    “Alright! Where’re we going,
Jock?”
    At least it’s a J…
     

10
     
    Do I have a split personality?
An alternate personality? I wouldn’t say so. I’ve got a latent personality. One
that I repress due to social constraints. As I assume everyone does. You have
your public persona and then you have your private persona. They’re rarely the
same. My case is no different. I’m normal just like everyone