Proactive
If you were looking out for your own interest, who would be worth eliminating? Ever been stabbed in the back? Do tell!!
Ivory Tower
He sat smoking his pipe and staring out of the window. He felt confident to the point of arrogance. Then there came a knock on the door ...
1 comment:
‘One choice?’
‘One.’
It was a strange question to ask. Sean had only come to the council offices to see if there were any benefits he wasn’t leeching yet. But after the usual questions from the bored-looking receptionist, he had been ushered into the nondescript little office and sat down opposite the short, chinless man with the round glasses.
‘Can it be, like, a group of people?’
‘No. A single individual.’
‘Right. Umm. It’s not the sort of thing I normally think about.’
‘Really? Then you are very unusual.’
Just one person to stab in the back. Literally. Someone whose death would benefit Sean the most.
‘Is this for, like, a survey?’
‘It is for data acquisition, yes.’
‘Okay. Let me think.’
Sean sat back in the plastic chair. He didn’t know if anyone’s death would benefit him that much. He was slacker – he didn’t have enemies. He didn’t have some guy ahead of him in the promotion queue because he worked weekends in the video rental place and he didn’t want to manage the damn place.
You can have one person in the world killed. And the man with the glasses had been very clear – it had to be to benefit Sean himself. No whacking some dictator in the name of world peace. It was all about, the man had said, being proactive.
‘Weird job you got,’ said Sean.
‘Perhaps,’ said the man.
‘How much does it pay?’
‘That is not an appropriate question.’
‘But, like, it’s got to be good, right? Like, it’s a lot of responsibility. The information you get from us has to be confidential. You gotta keep it secret.’
‘Your privacy is assured, yes.’
‘And it’s not like it’s difficult. You only have to ask one question. And sitting there being all… like, stiff and not smiling or nothing. Once you’ve got that down it’s not rocket science.’
‘If we can come back to the question, sir.’
‘Okay. You.’
‘Me?’
‘Yeah. You got a cushy job. And I bet you go all over the country doing this, so no one in the next place you go will know what you look like. I bet you’ve got everything in that briefcase, too. ID, some organiser or other with all your meetings and stuff in it. There’s enough there for me to do what you do, right?’
‘Do you wish to change you answer before I write it down?’
‘No, that’ll do for me.’
‘Very well.’ The man with the glasses wrote something down on a form and then put his briefcase on the table. He snapped the lock open, put the form inside, and took out an automatic handgun.
‘I have to admit that I never anticipated this eventuality,’ he said wearily, putting the gun to the side of his head.
Post a Comment