Books written by Ray Sullivan

Friday, 3 February 2012

Project: Evil - First Friday Brunch part 3

Project: Evil Chapter Four - First Friday Brunch part 3

'We could design and build our own,' suggested another engineer, enthusiastically.  O'Feld raised an eyebrow.
'Well, how much is that likely to cost?' he asked in his Irish brogue, turning to his Finance Director for support.  The engineer spluttered at being asked to provide real information in lieu of techno bullshit, while the Finance Director fished inside his trouser pocket.
'Millions, I guess, possibly billions,' the engineer suggested.
'Can we afford that?' asked O'Feld, 'do we have that much money?  The Finance Director studied a scrap of paper he'd pulled out.
'Technically we're stony broke,' he said at length, 'and to be fair I should ask everyone to contribute to the cost of today's sandwiches, but realistically, once we conquer the planet, that becomes a trivial issue,' he said, folding the scrap carefully and popping it back in his pocket.  O'Feld seemed pleased with the answer and was about to continue when Brian interrupted.
'If the South Sea Island is so rich in resources, why don't you exploit them to fund the development in Basildon?' he asked, aware that the Head of Facilities looked on approvingly.  O'Feld glowered.
'Mr Richards, there's only room for one Finance Director in this company.  You stick to what you're good at and he'll stick to his field of expertise.  Now I recommend you pull together a brain-storming session with the engineers next week and pitch your best suggestion to next Friday's Brunch. 
'Now, what about the Friday slaying idea competition?'  Daw raised his hand slowly.  O'Feld sighed heavily, 'yes, Mr Daw?'
'Well, as the meeting knows, we used a pit containing acid a few weeks ago, which was very successful and incredibly popular.  You all will be aware that our second evil method involved crocodiles, which unfortunately appear to be quite intolerant to acid themselves.  Two of the crocodiles didn't survive and the third needed to have stumps fitted.'  O'Feld drummed his fingers heavily on the table.  'Well, I'd like to suggest that we use the remaining crocodile, stumps and all, as this week's evil method,' he said, finishing in what he obviously hoped would be a flourish. O'Feld didn't appear to be that impressed.
'Surely that's the same idea as last week minus twelve legs, two crocodile bodies and more teeth than Alan Carr, Esther Rantzen and Mr Ed combined?' he asked.
'Ah,' replied Daw, sitting up, 'but my suggestion is that we use the legless crocodile to attack disabled employees,'
'We employ disabled people?' asked Brian, incredulously.
'Not initially,' mumbled Daw, 'but shit happens to the workforce from time to time.'  The Head of Diversity started to get excited as the conversation unfolded.
'But this is a fantastic idea,' she said, 'we've always been reluctant to include disabled staff from being slain, which I've always thought to be discriminatory.  Now we can be more inclusive altogether,' she enthused.  O'Feld appeared satisfied.
'Well that's it then.  Any other ideas?' he asked, looking briefly around the table.  'Well Mr Daw, you have the honour of not only providing the third consecutive Friday slaying idea, but also the only idea this week, which suggests that it's also officially the worst idea this week'  Daw didn't appear perturbed, he just looked intently at his fingernails.
'Well, for starters, this idea is aimed at disabled personnel and I'm not disabled,' he pointed out.
'You park in a disabled slot using a blue card that doesn't belong to you,' accused the Head of Facilities.  Daw placed his hands flat on the table as O'Feld interrupted.
'We all park in disabled slots using blue cards that don't belong to us. We're evil, crooked megalomaniacs, it’s part of our job description,' he said.
'Is that why I can't park near the building every day?' asked Brian, who'd wondered why the disabled slots were all taken in the car park and how the car park itself happened to have three hundred and twenty disabled slots against ten non-disabled.  He'd also wondered what the point was of having disabled parking slots four hundred yards from the entrance.
'You don't park in a disabled slot?' asked O'Feld suspiciously.  Brian shrugged.
'Don't know where to get a blue badge from.
'Pop into HR later,' suggested Daw.  'Anyway, point two is that I took the opportunity to ask two of our disabled henchmen for ideas before the meeting.  Once they got wind of my idea they both come up with the same idea, that I should feed the other to the crocodile.  Consequently I reckon both had equally poor ideas and propose they are both thrown onto the pit.'
'Hear, hear,' suggested O'Feld, picking his jacket up.  The meeting was adjourned.

The characters, companies and places referred to in Project: Evil are fictitious and any resemblance to people, companies, businesses or places is entirely coincidental

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