Business As Usual

By Sirius Bizinus

Follow the wild adventure of Tessa Fitzwilliams on her first day of work for the famous Evol, Incorporated as head of its Risk Management department. While she is given the tour, she finds out that Evol knows no bounds when it comes to making a buck. From selling old drugs to cultivating the world’s latest true religion, Evol is willing to dip its tentacles into anything that makes money.

Later on, she meets the unstable head of Evol, known only to everyone as “the General.” In the ensuing clash between the General and Big Gummint, Tessa finds herself deep in something more critical to humanity than getting through her first day on the job. As fate would have it, Tessa must go on a daring expedition, the object of which is only known to her guide, the enigmatic, possibly deranged, and definitely clothing-impaired Durgalon.

Does Tessa succeed in her mysterious quest? Is the General really a general, or is he just a typical boss? Is Evol, Inc. the worst company ever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sirius Bizinus
• Release date: Jan 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311257611

Sirius Bizinus

Sirius Bizinus is a writer living in Northern Alabama. He has one novel published, "Business As Usual," a work of satire. When not writing a book or blogging, Sirius is out and about in the countryside.Of course, all of this is done in between his duties as lead staff member for two cats.

Book preview

Business As Usual

A Novel

By

Sirius Bizinus

Published by Sirius Bizinus at Smashwords

Copyright © 2015 Sirius Bizinus

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover art and design by D.A. Lange

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Excuse & Notice

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

EXCUSE & NOTICE

For reasons which will soon be apparent, I have been asked to offer some excuse that pardons the following work. Because I’m terrible at making things up, I could not produce one. What follows is a complete and accurate depiction of the strange ordeal suffered in 2014 by Ms. Tessa Fitzwilliams, with only minor artistic license taken by the author.

Therefore, any attempt to find a deeper meaning in this text will result in misery and pain. Any effort to relate this story to the human condition will be futile and perhaps dangerous. And any care taken to notice a moral contained in this book shall result in grievous bodily harm.

Chapter 1

I’m not going down without a fight, said the General, waving his Uzi about emphatically. The 80-year-old’s palms were so sweaty that the weapon almost slipped out of his grip. Edit that part out, he said to the young woman holding up her phone, recording this important moment for posterity.

Which part? she asked. The line, or the gun waving around? As soon as the question escaped, she smirked. It was about damn time they let her finish a sentence around here.

No, not the line, the line is good, said the General. And this ain’t a gun, missy. It’s an Uzi. There’s a big difference.

The difference, she thought correctly, being that more people were going to get shot when he dropped it and it went off. Sir, my name is Tessa. Ms. Fitzwilliams is also appropriate, the woman corrected, fumbling about on her phone to delete the last few seconds of video. Since the FBI and ATF were about to storm the entire office building of Evol, Inc., throwing in grenades, screaming, and probably shooting a few people as well, the least the General could do was get her name right.

Whatever, said the ornery old man, adjusting the loose tie around his neck like appearances still mattered while facing down an army of Federal agents. Have you deleted the video yet?

So much for teaching that old dog proper etiquette. If he was reasonable, nobody probably would have had to have worried about the helicopters circling the 15-story structure like vultures. Also, if the movies were right, there probably were snipers on every rooftop of every surrounding building, begging to be given the chance to take down the target. Etiquette doesn’t seem to matter as much when there are loaded weapons involved. Tessa said, I’ve got it fixed, General. Go ahead.

Clearing his throat, the General tried standing as close to attention as he could. He looked a bit shrunken in his oversized suit, with his thin neck and thick glasses dangling on the tip of his nose. The top of his bald head was polished to a sheen, occasionally reflecting the spotlight from one of the helicopters and flaring the lens of the camera. Pushing his glasses back up to the top of his nose, he nodded to Tessa. The red light came on, and he began talking.

I’m calling out to the leaders of the joint FBI-ATF task force standing outside the offices of Evol, Incorporated. Personally, I don’t care if you send in everyone or just the tanks, because I’m ready for anything y’all throw at me. This ain’t going to be an easy assault like Ruby Ridge or the Branch Davidians. The glasses fell down to the tip of his nose, and the General had to push them back up again. He settled them up just far enough on the bridge of his nose to reflect the camera light right back into the lens, making his eyes glow white. Knowing the little tyrant, he probably would get a kick out of it. Y’all know I’ve got military training, so do my other corporate officers. We’ve got the doors and windows rigged with enough C-4 to take out a city block! With that last point, he accentuated it with more wild flailing with both arms, causing his glasses to escape back downwards again. So yeah, come get some, gummint! I’ll be right here!

Smiling, he fixed his glasses again and said, Did you get all of that, missy?

Sure, said Tessa, stopping the recording. Were you joking about the C-4?

I never joke about explosives, miss, he said. Tessa bit her lower lip. She didn’t feel safe here at all now.

This was shaping up to be the worst first day at a new job ever.

***

Ten Hours Earlier

First impressions, the saying goes, are the most important. Whoever came up with that slogan deserves to die in a fire, thought Tessa as she hurried out of the parking deck towards the corporate headquarters of Evol, Inc. All it did was remind people to be hyper-vigilant when meeting new people, and specifically it gave Tessa a bad case of the anxiety runs. Ever since the Great Recession hit in ’08, she’d averaged two different jobs a year. This was job number two for her this year, making it first impression number twelve. Of course, that was provided she survived the interview she was going to. The things I have to do for money, Tessa thought.

Ahead, she took stock of the rectangular office building with evenly trimmed hedges and a concrete walkway from the sidewalk. The windows were one-way glass, the spacing in between a drab gray concrete, and the two front doors were the kind of glass that turned yellow with age. This told her the company inside was conservative, didn’t like to make waves, and valued its privacy above everything. She’d worked at four such places, so she immediately grabbed the colorful scarf around her neck and chucked it into the street garbage can. Black blouse and gray pantsuit only, she grumbled.

Through the front doors, she already had her silver bracelet off and in a pocket, her earrings the only jewelry she had showing. Luckily she opted out of getting blonde highlights in her shoulder-length auburn hair yesterday, something that once got her into hot water with a group of nuns running a paintball arena out of their convent. Once inside, she saw the nondescript, bland hall of a corporate client renting space. Faux marble tiles on the floor, alternating mass-produced art on the walls, and a single receptionist wearing a headset sat typing into a computer at a small desk. Tessa marched up to her, armed with a smile. Hello, Ms. Fitzwilliams for-

The receptionist held up a finger. Punching some buttons on the office phone with the pad of her finger to avoid damaging her brand new hot pink nails with the fake extensions, the receptionist smacked her gum twice and then said, I have a new applicant. Yes. Yes. Mmhmm. Miss Fitzwilliams, please take the elevator to the second floor. As if the instructions were too difficult to understand, the receptionist helpfully pointed to the set of three silver doors to the right.

Tessa smiled a thank you that didn’t really mean thank you, but rather something less friendly, and she marched over to hit the call button. Immediately the center door opened with a loud bell and she stepped into the bland elevator car. Punching the second floor button with her knuckle, she noted the Muzak playing on the speakers. It was an easy-listening version of Welcome to the Jungle. Even with light drums, easy guitars, and a xylophone, the tune was pretty catchy. She stepped out into a bland, gray hallway with those white tile floors that had the flecks of real-fake different colored rocks embedded into them. Over the years, the color faded out to make her current environment the second most depressing she’d ever had to walk through. A woman in a black skirt suit was there to greet her, her hair pulled back so tightly into a bun that Tessa legitimately worried she might be cutting off circulation to her scalp. It made her instinctively scratch hers and check her own hair for any possible malfunctions. Nope, hair’s okay, crisis is averted.

Hello, Miss Fitzwilliams, said the strange woman. She was wearing too much perfume, and it made Tessa’s nose itch. My name is Brittany, and I’ll be handling all interviews. Please, come with me. Gesturing to her left, the pair walked through a side door into a small waiting room splattered in white, the job so haphazard that Tessa genuinely hoped it was the work of a blind painter. There was a gaudy copy of a Van Gogh on the far wall, flanked by fake plants in real soil. Brittany gestured to a folding chair on the left, while she sat at one behind a folding table. On the table was a single manila folder, which Brittany opened and began scanning through. She clicked her tongue as she read, something which Tessa feared might be disapproval.

If you have any questions about my resumè, you can-

No, we have all the information we need here, said Brittany. How well do you react under pressure? The young woman folded her arms across her chest and stared at Tessa.

A few years back, this might have intimidated her, but the perfume kicked up her nausea to the point that she lacked any sense of self-consciousness. Tessa replied, I react quite well, actually. I was a FEMA crisis manager back in-

Yes, we understand, said Brittany. Tessa wondered why in the hell everyone kept interrupting her. Brittany continued, This position is going to be a high-stress one. We here at Evol, Inc. take everything we do seriously. You’ll be working with upper management to manage any crisis that comes our way.

Please forgive me, said Tessa, But it’s not like Evol, Inc.’s been in the news lately-

That’s all on purpose, said Brittany, answering her question before it was ended. Our previous man who had the job had a nervous breakdown. Police found him holed up in a sewer treatment facility storing jars of his and other peoples’ urine. When they found out that he ironically named his pet tabby ‘Dog,’ they had him committed. Such a shame, too, because I had his name for the company Secret Santa this year. She wiped a tear from her eye with a long, red nail.

What sort of place was this, Tessa asked herself. If she didn’t have an eight-year-old at home to care for, she probably would have been out the door by now. I don’t see what this has to do with-

Brittany held up her hand to interrupt. At least she was being polite now. Are you interested in the position, Miss Fitzwilliams?

Yes, Tessa blurted out quickly, trying to make sure even that wouldn’t get cut off. Take that, Brittany. Tessa would be damned if she’d get interrupted again – even if it meant carelessly committing to a job without knowing exactly what it was. Maybe all of this was a ploy to get her to commit quickly. If that was true, it worked marvelously. Frowning, Tessa made a note to never underestimate Brittany again.

From the manila folder, Brittany produced an employment contract and a fountain pen. Handing the pen to Tessa, she held a finger at a line on the bottom. Please sign here, she said helpfully. Tessa complied, and when she handed the pen back something pricked her thumb.

Ow! Tessa yelled. What was-

Brittany didn’t wait. She took Tessa’s thumb and pressed a bloody thumbprint on the document next to her signature. Standard operating procedure, she said as she did all this. Tessa just watched in shock. I’m also an attorney, and we like to get a DNA sample and thumbprint along with the employment contract. Brittany shrugged, as if that would make the pain go away.

That’s the first I’ve ever heard of- Tessa began to protest. The tone of Brittany’s voice suggested that something else was going on. Most of all, Tessa hoped that whatever pricked her was sterilized beforehand.

From her pocket, Brittany produced two latex gloves. Putting them on with a loud SNAP, she looked at Tessa expectantly. Miss Fitzwilliams, I’m also a company doctor. Before we allow employees on the premises, we have to do a thorough body cavity search. We can’t have people smuggling in drugs or other contraband. You signed a waiver, she added helpfully, pointing back at the employment contract.

Tessa stood up from her chair and put her back against the wall, her shoulder brushing against a fake print of Matisse. Close up, it looked like it was done with an ink-jet printer. Focus, Tessa told herself. Now wasn’t the time to be an art critic when cavity searching was on the line. There is no way you are sticking that glove anywhere near or in me, she said. So you can kindly go f-

The door behind Brittany swung open, and a tall, lanky man wearing alligator skin cowboy boots and a giant, white Stetson hat sauntered into the room. Tessa then noticed his suit must have been made out of leather, and his shirt was one of those very high-end white imported cotton jobs that cost more than the lives of the children that made it. Then, to finish the image, she saw a silver tie holder and one of those thin, black Texas string ties that she could never remember the name of. Miss Fitzwilliams, he said, tipping his hat with his right hand, making his jacket squeak. I like the cut of your jib, missy. You’re hired. Brittany, that will be all, he said, watching Brittany collect the envelope and march off. The new arrival waved a friendly hand at Tessa, like a stranger beckoning her into a van with free candy. She went against her instincts again and decided to go with him.

She almost said, I don’t understand. But, when she walked through that door, her jaw almost fell to the floor.

Chapter 2

Tessa found herself in an immense atrium decorated in dark blue and sea green. The freshly buffed floor that her heels clicked on were marble tile, dyed blue and turquoise with flecks of rusty copper scattered about to catch the light from the wall lamps. Giant pillars with faux seaweed woven about them rose from the floor to meet vaulted copper arches smothered in a sickly green patina. Her eyes finally adjusting to the dimmer lighting in that area, she noticed those arches supported a ceiling decorated with a mosaic depicting a large purple tentacle monster wrapping gooey tendrils all over the Earth.

The tips of the tendrils ended with water spigots which poured purple backlit water from the ceiling into a fountain at the center of the entire affair. Evol, Inc.’s new hire first gasped at