Thursday, May 23, 2013

B is for OH! The Horror!

Terrance lost another client today. He forgot to remember the force with which he pushed thoughts into their heads must be carefully controlled. Now, as yet another client sat opposite him headless, bleeding over the still preserved body, all he could do was sigh and shrug at his colleagues. Worst of all… they hadn’t gotten paid yet.

Though, to be fair Angela Saxon never really used her head anyways. And it wasn’t as if Alexis Excalibur couldn’t put her head back together for them. It sure would help the presentation, but what was the point? This is the problem with having a Pusher on the payroll – you never know if, when or HOW their relatively volatile emotions would manifest. Sigh. In a real sense, Terrance did them all a favor. Saxon Beer only provided two percent of the company’s overall revenue stream yet demanded 80% of the attention.

She thought… in a way… the loss of this client is a call for celebration. They would ease on out of the boardroom, past the receptionist quietly cursing her baby’s father and down the elevator to BOBO’S BAR down the street. Not that SHE actually drank it’s just that….

Wait a minute, she doesn’t drink.

Terrance merely looked at her. He knew she knew that they all thought it was a good idea. But she needed to stand firm. Blowing a client’s head off in a presentation was NOT acceptable. Pushing thoughts into her head, equally so. Even if she liked it.

There was one thought he never pushed into her though. It annoyed her no end that he never saw the need to penetrate her cerebral cavity with that thought.

The blood flowed over the creatives. The boards were blood-logged and it grew exceedingly stressful to pry this one ad out of Saxon’s hand. Terrance stepped forward to help her pull it out. She declined his offer. Not for anger’s sake – even as she dodged arterial showers, she chuckled, he HAD done the company a huge favour. No, in Saxon’s hand was the ad that sparked the blowing. The last thing she needed was for a chest to explode post-mortem or something.

They stood at the door and looked back at the now deceased client– still sitting staggeringly straight; from this height, the city looked beautiful and in a real sense… so did the headless client who more and more reminded Terrance & Alexis of one of those fountain types, like the one in Woodford Square; head tilted far back so the water can bathe the birds and the vagrants.

“What are we going to tell Bill?”
“She decided to go in another direction”
“Sounds legit.”

“You know,” Alexis said as the elevator doors closed, “I have beers at the house.”

Thursday, May 23, 13
© tracy j h

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