Mike Larson leaned back in his chair with a comfortable smirk on his face. “It doesn’t matter Bob, this is the third time. You need to have The Talk with him.” He said while using air quotes to emphasize The Talk.
Sitting in one of the two small chairs stationed in front of Larson’s oversized oak desk, Bob said with a worried look on his face, “But you don’t understand Mike. This guy threatened to eat Teds pancreas the last time, and Ted believed him, remember? He wouldn’t stop vomiting for a week. Then, without notice, Ted up and quits. Just like that. No one has heard from him since.”
Larson chuckled. “I know, he can be intimidating Bob. But believe me, he wasn’t serious. I mean really, in the last seven months he’s been with the firm, not a single person has been injured. It’s just that he has some odd cultural habits that are just not business friendly.”
Bob scoffed, “I’ll say!”
“C’mon Bob, let me buy you a cup of coffee.” Larson said as he rose from his chair. “I’m sure Mrs. Nagel will have just the right recipe to make you feel better.” Mrs. Nagel was the sweetest, most wonderful and understanding company barista in Bobs life. Bob spent many a day telling Mrs. Nagel about his troubles. She always listened intently as she created the most delicious concoctions for Bob. “You just need to keep him in check, that’s all. Besides, he’s the best analyst we’ve got.” Larson gave Bob a reassuring pat on the back as they left the room. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”
Bob enjoyed his brisk morning walk. Because of the size of the building, the walk to H.R. was a good fifteen minutes. The harsh lighting and bustling atmosphere of his surroundings comforted him as he drank his overly complicated cup of coffee, the low-fat double-shot gingerbread mocha cappuccino. He soon arrived and knocked on the office door of Mr. Parks.
“Come!” Bob heard Mr. Parks declare from behind the door.
Bob opened the door to find a lean man with slick dark hair rifling through one of the filing cabinets lining the walls of his office. “Mr. Parks, how are you today?” Bob asked as he sipped on his low-fat double-shot gingerbread mocha cappuccino.
“Fine.” Mr. Parks said hurriedly as he removed a file. Slamming the filing cabinet drawer closed, he walked towards his desk siting at an angle on the far side of the room. “What can I do for you?” He asked as he sat down.
“Well, to be honest with you, I have to have a talk with Edward Brock about his conduct.” Bob said.
“I’m sorry, did you say Edward Brock?” Mr. Parks asked.
“Uhhh, yeah. That’s right, Edward Brock.” Replied Bob as he sipped from his cup.
“Okay,” Mr. parks said as he jumped up out of his chair with delight. “You’ll need a few forms.” Almost gleefully, he stepped to the opposite side of the room and began riffling through one of the filing cabinets. He pulled out a file and removed a thin packet of documents. “First you’ll need a 1643B with…” Mr. Parks paused as he rifled another drawer. “Ah yes, Addendum 18!” he declared as he retrieved another packet of papers. Closing that drawer Mr. Parks moved down a few rows and began to rifle yet another drawer. “Next you’ll need form 2334F.” looking at Bob, Mr. Parks said intently, “Very important.” Closing that drawer, he moved to yet another cabinet and began searching another drawer.
Bobs cup of low-fat double-shot gingerbread mocha cappuccino had dried out by the time Mr. Parks finished assembling the small stack of forms Bob would have to fill out. “Is this all of it?” Bob asked.
“Uhhh, yeah. Yeah, that’s all of it.” Mr. Parks began. “This essentially releases the company from any liability concerning your meeting with Mr. Brock about his challenges with acceptable ethnic and cultural practices… it also frees the company of a few other liabilities as well. Like accidental death and dismemberment.”
Bob coughed briefly, then, with an uneasy smile said. “You’re joking of course.”
“Of course not.” Mr. Parks said as he leaned forward from behind his desk. “You never know the direction these types of meetings will take, and quite frankly” Mr. Parks began to grin widely. “You’re not even half his size.” He laughed.
Bob grabbed the stack of papers and said, “Glad you’re having a good time with this.” Mr. Parks laughed louder as Bob made his way out of the office. He could still hear the laughter echoing from the H.R. department as he moved through the hallways with his stack of forms
A beautiful autumn day greeted Bob on his way into work, charging him with light-hearted joviality. He was still feeling it as he leaned back in his chair sipping on the delicious goodness of his non-fat white chocolate mocha pumpkin spice latte grande. Nothing’s going to get me down today, he thought as he licked the cream from his lips. Hearing the door, Bob looked up to see Larson entering.
“Bob!” Larson greeted loudly as he walked into the office. Flopping into the chair in front of Bob’s desk, he asked, “Have you talked to Edward Brock yet?”
“Uhhh, not yet.” Bob motioned at the stack of papers on the far side of the desk marked H.R. “Why?” Bob asked slowly with a suspicious tone to his voice.
“Well, this time he’s really gone too far Bob.” Larson said with a smirk. “And it’s gonna be up to you to make it right!” Larson said, almost smugly.
Bob put his coffee down. He could see Larson was fishing. He just didn’t know for what. He leaned forward to take the bait. “Okay, I’ll bite. What did he do?”
“Well, it appears he semi-assaulted Mrs. Nagel,” Larson smirked, “your favorite barista.”
“Okay, what exactly does semi-assaulted mean?” Bob asked, again with suspicion.
“Well, apparently”, Larson began to giggle, “Brock ate her ice cream.” Laughing he said, “While she was holding it!” Larson could hardly contain himself when he said laughingly “And he was holding her, three feet off the ground!”
Bob took a deep breath and hung his head low. Larson’s laughter faded as he strolled out of Bobs office. Bob realized that he was wrong. Something could bring him down.
Bob looked at the clock. Sixteen Minutes, he thought. Sixteen minutes left before he’s alone with Edward
Brock. He wiped the perspiration from his hands onto his thighs. Wow, am I nervous? He thought, what have I got to be nervous about? I need to shake this off. I know, I’ll go get a cold drink. That’ll help. Bob could practically taste the Iced, triple cream, maple syrup, vanilla, cinnamon coffee he needed. Just as he turned in his chair to stand, the door opened. Bob looked at the doorway with some relief. He half expected the doorway to be completely blocked by the seven foot menace. But instead, it was just Edward Brock. Plain old Edward Brock. Bob stood and reached out his hand. Brock walked into his office and took Bobs hand.
“Hi Edward, hope you’re doing well. Have a seat.” Bob offered.
Brock meekly said “Thanks.” As he took the chair in front of Bob’s desk.
“Edward, first thing I want to do is tell you how exemplary your work has been since you started with us. You are one of our best analysts.”
“Thank you, sir.” Brock said. It was easy to see Brock was uncomfortable. Bob sure felt uncomfortable.
“I’m not kidding. Your record is pretty astonishing. Because of your efforts, the company has actually changed their approach in contract management. Seriously, you’re very important to us around here.”
Brock looked up at Bob, “I appreciate that sir.”
“I’m glad to hear that Edward, that’s why we need to discuss the challenges you’re having with the limitations placed on your ethnic and cultural practices”. Leaning forward, Bob looked at Brock square in the eyes with an earnest expression and asked, “Edward, can I ask you what happened this morning?”
Bob suddenly found himself staring into the milky white eyes of a seven foot, six inch, five hundred pound creature with a smile that would humble a shark.
“I WAS TASTE TESTING!” Venom barked. “IS THERE A LAW AGAINST THAT?” He slammed his huge open palm down on Bob’s desk causing the pencil holder on the desk to hop a half an inch.
The shock was so immediate, Bob didn’t even appear to flinch. He simply reached over, picked up the pencil holder, and carefully placed it between him and Venom as if to create some sort of barrier between the two of them.
“It should be interesting to see you try to eat if you had no tongue to taste with.” Venom let out a slow hiss as he sat back in his chair. “You,” he paused. “You do not understand. Where I come from it is acceptable to smell and taste your food before feeding.” Bob found himself just staring for what seemed like a long time. Did he just threaten me? Bob wondered.
“Yes, I do understand that tasting Mrs. Nagel’s Ice Cream might have been going a little too far.” Venom said. Bob wanted to say something but found himself unable to move. He just continued to stare.
Venom adjusted his position in his chair and said “I barely touched her. I mean really, it’s not like I bit her head off or anything”. The deafening silence of Bob’s unwavering gaze continued as the lump in Bob’s throat grew.
Venom leaped to his feet and began making wide gestures with his immense arms as he bellows. “I WILL
NOT STAND FOR THIS PERSECUTION! I CAN NOT BE BLAMED FOR THE FRAILNESS OF MRS. NAGEL! OR HER WEEK ATTACKS ON MY CHARACTER!”
Bob paid little attention to what Venom was saying and a great deal of attention to the enormous tree trunk like arms Venom was throwing around. Pain from Bobs hands began to filter in as he slowly noticed the grip he had on his chair.
Venom sat back down and said in a controlled hiss “I will apologize to Mrs. Nagel”. More silence from Bobs gaze. “I will conduct myself accordingly”. Then, with a whoosh, Venom was gone.
Edward Brock was visibly shocked by Bobs stone expression. “Sir,” he said. “I am VERY sorry for his behavior. He promises me he will NEVER do that again.” Brock then looked up and to his left squinting as if he were looking into the sun and said, “Venom would also like to apologize for any disrespect he displayed.” Then, Brock began to speak to himself. “What? What do you mean?” Then Edward burst out laughing, then just as suddenly stopped. Visibly containing his laughter, he continued talking to himself (or Venom). “Yeah,
I got it. Look, we’ll talk about it later. Yeah, yeah. FINE! We’ll talk about it later!” He yelled at himself, obviously annoyed.
By this time, Bob had managed to loosen the steel grip he had on his chair and leaned back. Edward Brock stood up and held out his hand. Dazed by the immediate change in climate, Bob reached out slowly and took it. Brock shook his hand and said, “Sir, I promise, I will work with him. This won’t be an issue again.”
Bob stood up unsteadily. Leaning over his desk, Bob pulled a couple of papers off of the top of the small stack of forms from H.R. “That’s fine Mr. Brock. I just need you to sign these documents.” Bob said as he handed the papers to Brock.
Brock took the papers, leaned over the desk and signed the papers. Handing the papers back to Bob, Brock leaned in close and whispered, “You scared him silly”.
The End