Side Story: Whatever Works
~ Council Meeting ~
[Alice Duchesne]

“NO, MORON, YOU LISTEN!! I don’t fucking CARE whether your hard drive was drowned in coffee or kidnapped by an army of bloody Zulus! I want those damn reports in my fucking mail for yesterday! So get off your goddamn fat ass and busy restoring the database or I’ll be mailing that same fat ass out of your office, through the window, with the chair it’s glued on, AND QUICKER THAN YOU CAN FUCKING TYPE ‘FIRED’!!!”

Alice, better known as “Miss Duchesne” to most or “Boss” to her subordinates, ragingly clapped shut her old flip phone before the petty accountant she’d been screaming at could place a whine and piss her off even more.

She glared at the communication device as if to bear holes through its plastic husk by the sheer force of her ire. Her knuckles were white as she resisted an impulse to throw it against the nearby wall.

The sound of breaking electronics would no doubt be cathartic, and she only used cheap old flip models because she was aware of her own temper. However she’d already gone through three phones this past two weeks, and she didn’t want to come across as even more of a violent madwoman by asking her secretary to go buy a fifth one.

The poor young man assigned to her by the company already looked about to wet himself whenever their gaze met.

With a sigh, she dropped the device in a pocket of her suit jacket and massaged the bridge of her nose.

GOD!! Who hired that dumbfuck?!

A rhetorical question. Of course she knew who had hired the fucking piece of incompetent shit who had just set her work – and the work of a whole accounting team – back three weeks. And she’d be damned if she let that smug jerk keep his job of HR director.

Or at the very least she’d see to it that the hiring duties for her department be reassigned to herself, because sadly it wasn’t her call to choose the dickhead’s attributions, no matter how much she wished it otherwise.

The dark rings under her eyes, masterfully hidden under layers upon layers of subtle makeup, seemed to wince at the thought of more work. But all things considered, she knew she’d sleep better without the threat of having her management sabotaged constantly hanging over her head.

Of course, Alice would hire someone to delegate the bulk of the work to. Maybe she’d even ask her secretary. That would give the boy something to do besides fetching coffee and waiting for the phone to ring at his desk in front of her office.

The kid had talent for management. He would go places if he would just grow a pair and stop being such a scaredy pussy. Which was also the reason she referred to him as “kid” even though he was already twenty-eight and thus barely a decade younger than Alice herself.

However, even if she didn’t directly take charge of recruiting, because Alice liked to keep a hand in everything under her official supervision, several hours of her overbooked schedule would therefore still be swallowed by that time sink. A few hours which I haven’t to spare in the first place…

“FUCK!!” She threw a hand up in rage, then exhaled loudly.

A migraine was knocking at her temples. Alice stopped pacing, and with her stopped the angry sound of spike heels on the tiled floor. She sighed again, leant forwards and rested her forehead against the large, cool, bay window that made up the majority of the wall. This had been a shitty week.

Then again, most were.

Quick glances towards both ends of the white hallway confirmed nobody had been around to witness her outburst. Which wasn’t surprising. The upper storeys of Whatever Inc.’s headquarters – the W-Tower – had their access restricted to only a few authorised personnel and were usually quieter than the lower levels of the huge skyscraper.

Not for the first time, she felt glad for such a rule. Though she preferred the bustling sound of people working and running about, the typing on keyboards and the smell of cold coffee, she appreciated the privacy of the deserted upper levels. She tried to maintain a certain cool and collected image within the company, and being witnessed shouting and cursing at a subordinate – no matter how inept – wasn’t constructive in that regard.

Another umpteenth sigh escaped Alice as her gaze wandered over the evening Californian cityscape spread beyond the glass window. This past week had been especially shitty. With the dumb mistake of that moronic accountant being the bloody icing on the fuck-shit CAKE!!

“Thatfatlittlepieceofshi–” she began through gritted teeth before interrupting growl and forcing herself to relax.

Breathe… she commanded herself.

She inhaled deeply. Calm down, Alice. This isn’t you. She wasn’t usually so emotional, so uncontrolled.

Oh, she had a temper, no denying nor escaping that. It runs in the family. Her mother was a ticking time bomb. Her late brother had been the same. And his daughters – now legally Alice’s – had also inherited the family’s short fuse, completely overwriting whatever personality trait their mother Madhuri, probably the sweetest creature Alice ever met – God have her soul – could have passed on to the girls.

Recalling her treasured angels’ faces finally brought a small smile to Alice’s.

She truly loved them both as if they were her own. Even though it might seem odd to onlookers considering the older of the two girls was barely twelve years her junior. There had been quite an age gap between Alice and her big bother Mathieu, and Alice herself looked young for her age, so they actually seemed more sisters than aunt and niece, let alone mother and daughter.

Those two were the reason why Alice could endure working ungodly hours, going above and beyond the call of duty, and basically mothering the whole board of executives. She often had the impression those people had so little notion of what the words “expenditure management” entailed that it was a fucking miracle the company hadn’t gone bankrupt in the two months prior to her recruiting, during which the seat of Chief Accountant had stayed vacant.

That Alice’s predecessor had committed suicide never overly surprised her, although she had been “assured” his act had had all to do with personal issues and no relation “whatsoever” with his job.

Yeah. And I suck cocks for a living.

She didn’t.

No matter how much that asshole of an HR Director, Edward Dabbler, would have the whole company believe Alice had fucked the CEO, his secretary and his pet goat to get her current job. It was all nothing more than the wishful wet dream of that dirty little penis that served him as brain. Fucking dickhead fuck.

Which brought Alice to her current problem: in extenso Edward Dabbler being both the director of Public Relationships and more annoyingly of Human Resource, and – even if it tore at her soul to admit it – being amazing enough at his job that the company couldn’t afford to throw him out simply because he hated Alice. A very mutual feeling.

*thud*

She had lightly bumped her head against the window, and repeated her gesture a couple times.

Think of the girls, Alice. Think of the girls. You can’t throw Dabbler out of the ninetieth floor window. You’d get fired, not to mention arrested for murder, and we need the money… Besides, remember, you love your job, you do. That’s what you’re best at. Don’t let one tiny dick with an ego the size of Alaska make you believe any otherwise! YEAH! Go get ‘em White Tiger.

With that little pep talk, using the nickname her youngest had given her a long time ago, and one last sigh for the road, she moved away from the glass wall, quickly checked her makeup in the mirror of her compact, and started again towards the meeting room, loud clicks echoing in her wake through the empty hallway.

The heels, like the flip phone, where all part of the act. Sharp sounds went with the sharp demeanour and kept the employees on their toes and eager not to screw up. They could call her Ice Queen or Frigid Lady behind her back all they wanted, she didn’t care as long as they stayed efficient.

In fact, she even herself added to the rumour pool every now and then. Bonding against a common enemy was also a way increase teamwork. The subtlety was to balance it right so that the situation didn’t devolve into insubordination.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Although, she admitted the white power suit she was wearing might be a tad over the top. Her eldest daughter, Hellen, kept teasing Alice about it. That little demon even had the gall to send her a silver snowflake pin to go with the outfit. Alice wore it every day. She felt mildly ridiculous, but it added some much needed levity to her daily life.

There was a story behind the suit too. Back during her first two weeks in function, things had been… hectic, to say the least. She had barely been sleeping at all and had forgotten to dry clean her other work clothes, therefore finding herself left with only this one snow-white pantsuit she had packed as a joke when leaving Europe for the States.

Somehow, it had made an impression and it stuck. Now her wardrobe almost exclusively comprised immaculate white outfits.

Alice’s cheeks heated slightly in embarrassment and she rolled her eyes.

Nearing the large wooden door ending the corridor, she patted the left pocket of her white jacket, confirming the presence of the flash drive which contained all the data for this week’s meeting. Well, “all” except for the files that dumbass drowned in caffeine, she corrected with a groan.

Sadly, this sorry corporate equivalent of leaving a stinky cheese in her locker – because clearly Dabbler had left his brain back in high-school… inside his football shorts in high-school – wasn’t ground enough to enter a formal complaint against the HR dick-rector. She neither had any proof that the negligence had been intentional.

But hopefully their obvious “dislike” of each other would be incriminating enough that the transference of hiring duty she was about to request wouldn’t need much pushing for.

I don’t even want him fired that badly. He’s… argh… competent. Just give me half– no a quarter– ten minutes alone with him tied up in a soundproof room and a baseball bat. I’ll be sure to “explain” to the dipshit that I have no problem working with him, as long as he keeps his ego in his pants and our interactions strictly professional.

She noticed she had reached for the door and her knuckles were white around the handle. She exhaled and forced herself to relax. Think of the girls. She took a deep breath, plastered her “work mask” over her face – all amiable half-smile and aloofness – and pushed the door open.

Light from the hallway flooded the darkness beyond and she quickly stepped inside, closing behind herself and restoring the relative obscurity of the room. She blinked a couple times to adjust and then walked straight to a large wooden round table which occupied roughly half the space of the pentagonal room, affectionately dubbed “Council Chamber” by their beloved CEO.

Months of trained habit helped Alice ignore the rough stone walls, despite them having no business standing on the nighty-eighth floor of a skyscraper in the twenty-first century state of California.

Similarly she paid no attention to the thick medieval tapestries, nor the myriad of flickering candles – electrical candles, but camouflaged well enough for that not to be obvious – providing the only lighting, nor to the fact her seat was a huge artistically carved slivery throne.

She reached the throne and casted a glance at the occupants of the room.

“Good evening gentlemen, and Zwei,” she greeted with a nod in the direction of the sole other female in attendance. The blue-haired teenage girl briefly raised her head from the book she was reading and returned the nod, before looking back down. All the while Zwei’s neutral expression remained frozen, but Alice knew the girl was happy to see her.

“I apologise for my lateness,” she continued. “I had to deal with a… slight setback.” Alice did her best to keep anger from her voice, but couldn’t help glaring at the slime-ball nonchalantly sprawled in another throne.

As usual, Dabbler’s perfectly manicured fingers were fiddling with a half-completed Rubik’s Cube, and he himself wasn’t paying much attention to the others. In fact, Alice doubted anything without boobs and a functional vagina found grace in his eyes. Zwei didn’t count. Even if the teen had been legal – which she wasn’t – and the slightest bit interested, she was still the CEO’s goddaughter. And even Dabbler wasn’t that stupid.

Alice wished he would be that stupid though.

She wasn’t worried for Zwei. The punkish girl had enough martial arts training under her black belts to flatten most of the building’s security team. This Prince Swarming would have gotten both his legs broken before he could even finish his pick-up line. And that was before Zwei’s three sisters got to him. You simply didn’t mess with the quads. That was a rule every employee at Whatever’s quickly learnt, one way or another.

“No worries, Lady Duchesne. We were just about to begin. Please be seated.” A deep voice echoed in the dark room, quiet but demanding attention – and obtaining it. Straightening her posture, Alice stopped trying to murder the cockroach – insistence on the “cock” – with her glare, and turned towards the largest seat around the table, and most importantly towards its occupant.

Sitting in the massive golden throne with the calm arrogance of a ruler aware of his own power, the man was wearing a night-black suit with a slight military cut, closely fitting his athletic built, and completed by silver arm-rings and a silky golden cape draped over his wide shoulders. A matching elegant golden crown rested atop his short black hair, complementing the natural air of authority granted by the sharp features betraying his Japanese ancestry.

On any other man, this getup would have looked unbelievably silly. However Michael Kurotora, CEO of Whatever Incorporated, succeeded in pulling it off. In fact, he appeared simply regal, if a bit anachronistic.

Probably because of how the businessman poised himself, as if the mere thought someone might ever find him silly was most ridiculous. Even the black goat sitting straight beside his throne didn’t manage to make him look comical. But then, the buck himself seemed to have a no-nonsense attitude.

Belying the CEO’s regal pressure however, childish sparkles were dancing in his slanting dark blue eyes. In truth, Mr. Kurotora had a very playful personality, but to those who weren’t used to the man’s intensity or to his sheer eccentricity, he could appear a tad scary and not a little delusional.

To put it simply though, he had a thing for roleplaying.

And rearing goats.

Alice tried not to think too deeply about it. All thing considered, Mr. Kurotora was a good boss. And he wasn’t even the craziest one here.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Alice bowed, playing along, and quietly sat on her allocated throne.

The CEO nodded in acknowledgement and, extending a hand and distractedly petting the goat – Monty Hall was his name, Alice believed – the man glanced over Zwei, two vacant seats, and Mr. Stern, from Legal, to finally rest his piercing gaze on the penis on legs.

“Very well. With Sir Hendriksen currently overseeing repairs at one of Our fiefdom in the Old World, and in regards to Sir Hatter habitual… unpredictability…”

You mean ‘insanity’, Alice thought, repressing a roll of my eyes.

“…we believe no more shall join this noble assembly this evening. Therefore, Sir Dabbler, if you may proceed?”

“Sure thing, Boss.” With a bright smile that would have done wonders advertising whatever toothpaste brand he was using, Dabbler slid his fingers across his section of the table. In response, before each the thrones, a rectangular portion of the “wood” became alive with figures and diagrams.

This here Round Table came with touch screens. Surely King Arthur would have been proud…

Although… the company did sell virtual med-fantasy, so Alice supposed it made a weird kind of sense.

Squaring her shoulders in spirit, Alice forcefully pushed aside her lust for a good fluffy pillow and a warm comforter, and prepared for two-to-three hours of boring meeting that no amount of fancy props, kingly businessman, or haughty pet goat could make any less tedious.

She loved accounting and she loved her job – at least on the days her hard work didn’t go down the drain because of some dipshit – but one would believe that working for the most successful company in the gaming industry – a company named “Whatever Incorporated” for God’s sake! – would be less monotonous at times.

Sometimes at night, when insomnia kept her awake in the large bedroom of her luxurious company-funded apartment, Alice wished something unexpected came along and threw a little chaos in all that organised craziness that had become her daily life.

…Knowing her luck though? Alice had the nagging sensation she’d live to regret that wish.