Skip to main content

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!”
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.”
“Cool.”

Thursday, May 23, 13
© tracy j h

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

B in Future Traditions

THE COPY: I was sitting down listening to Norah Jones’ “Come Away with Me” and I began to think about future traditions. I thought… I want to sway with someone. Sway with my lover. To this music. More than that, I want that when we had an argument (and we’d have those because she’d be stubborn and I’d be pig headed (iChuckle)) we would never go to bed angry. We’d pop open a lover’s CD like this one and just sway. We may be as mad as hell but we would sway because we would never want to go to bed angry. And our children would know this. And they would never allow their partners to go to bed angry either because… well, because they would know better. They would sway. They would know it was better to sway. That’s the kind of man I want to be. Moreover, that’s the kind of tradition I’d like to pass on. Future Traditions. What's Yours?

B is for Labels

He. She. It. Is. With. Out. Labels. And beyond that Is the stuff of fables. He. She. It. Is. Simply on the Earth Plain. Dealing with their own pains. And trying... To decipher yours. Because somewhere, in there, is a soul fighting wars. And they know, that to survive, they need yours. alive. So. He. She. It. Is.  Fighting for your life. As well. So hell. Fight for theirs! FIGHT for theirs!  Instead of crabbing up the barrel. Try to act more Supernatural. FIGHT for theirs. FIGHT for each other. There is simply no hope fighting each other. Please. Place all labels in he fire pit. Love is not a cliche when you understand it. He. She. It. Is.  Searching... Searching...  For you. For me. For Sanity. Don't hide your data stream. Crash into this sea of me. I will download you (no labels) You will download me (no labels) Till all of us is one with us  Like. The Divinity Three. No fussing....

B is for The Hand of Gordon (Act 5)

5. The driver egged him on. This was the third bad drive that Gordon received at the hand of the demon with the driver’s permit. But… neither the speed limit nor his attitude changed. The demon's finger went up again. Gordon smiled, again. He shook his head. The civility of his action denied a certain truth. Though Gordon considered himself long suffering, his hand held fast to a young blade should the speedster lose control of his car… and his mind. Yes, Gordon just smiled.