Bucket Bros: The Carpenters of Comedy

Wow! Office Vampires

Richard never lied about his resume and had not gone to college so he did not get very gainful positions. K-mart, Wall-mart, primarily he only ever worked for marts. ordinarily in the customer service center.

At 24 he was getting out of the customer service game while he was still alive and nobody was gonna drag him back in, not even human resources. Nevertheless he was about to become a human resource all over again, because he was way to young to retire and he did not want to head for the hills and start growing pot, or even buying it off the pudgy guy at taco bell anymore for that matter, he was going for a clean break from extended adolescence.

Richard sat down across from the manager of a New York art firm. With the energy of a dominatrix, she looked like one of those middle aged women who work out to appear younger.

She lit a long cigarette in flagrant disregard for the workplace regulations of New York state. Hi, Richard my name is Electra. Don't worry, I won't bite. Such a dumb cliche Richard thought, what does it even mean? "I wont bite" is a verbal double rainbow, an enigma.

My God, you have such a hyperactive imagination Richard. "I wont bite" is plain English for relax, there's nothing enigmatic about the colloquialism at all.

How did she know that I thought the word enigma? Richard wondered. What? Oh nothing, your eyes tell stories. You need work, I need someone like you, you are my new office administrator.

Richard was shocked that the interview had ended so abruptly. Are you joking? it's harder to get a job a taco bell. What is the catch?

Electra took another drag off her cigarette. Oh, just keep being yourself and you will go far here, you will fit right in this organization. Richard shook his head in disbelief. Uh, thanks I guess.

Electra picked up her phone. Greg, show him to his desk on the first floor. Richard, you will be working closely with Greg, and your first shift starts right now.

Throughout the day Greg pushed Richard around every chance he got, like a jock envious of a nerd's intellect. At the end of the work day Greg punched Richard right in the stomach.

Richard went home and took a couple Tums and watched TV. What the hell is wrong with that place? Everyone is insane there. I am quitting, there is no way I am going back to that madhouse.

Day 2.

Richard walked to work in the rain against his better instincts planning on telling Electra what had happened yesterday.

It was cloudy and raining and the streets were crowded with pedestrians. In New York city, people act as if owning a car is unnecessary due to the subway system, the cabs, the sidewalks. But in reality they walk because they are frightened of getting in a car accident, although being from New York their paper thin layer of bravado would never allow them to admit it. Survival of the most frightened.

Richard walked into Electra's office. Yesterday Greg punched me right in the stomach, you really need to fire him for that. I do not know if you're telling the truth you just got here and Gregs been at that front desk for ages, who would you believe? Check the camera's.

There aren't any, this is not one of those big corporations you're used to working for. Well I am starting to wish I was back at Walmart because this crap never happened to me there, this is not what I signed up for. Richard you've rocked the boat enough for one day with these baseless accusations. Unless you want to be terminated I suggest that you leave my office and go do your job, sir.

Richard shook his head, disgusted. Whatever, this makes no sense. Richard pulled up his shirt revealing a bruise. Is that proof enough? A big purple bruise on my gut? The bruise is merely proof of itself, not of your little story. Now do some work or you are out of here.

Richard got through another day of work with Greg. He still pushed Richard around like he was some hyperactive kid on a sugar rush after a long day of fifth grade, but at the end of the day, Richard did not get punched again.

Sipping coffee at his desk, near five p.m. Richard assessed his current situation. This is an improvement I guess, maybe Electra talked to Greg about the incident and told him to watch his step, maybe my cruel hazing is winding down.

Greg walked up to Richard and got up in his face, Richard flinched. Sorry your such a pussy, Richard. Richard did his best to look surprised. What? I am sorry you cannot take a punch, you little runt. I should not have to take a punch, this is desk work. We are not in Afghanistan or something, I do not know why you even work here, you should be a boxer or in prison or something that suits you better than working as an office administrator.

I think I am more qualified than you, Walmart. Grow up and keep up because you're still learning this job and I've had it down for quite some time now. How long? How fucking long has Electra put up with this fight club shit anyway?

Years. We used to work together as butchers before this. She saved her money and brought together some friends from her old community and started this art business. I got stuck at this desk because I never saved a dime, it's her business.

Plus I am not sure if the executives respect me, most of the folks who fund this place are rich old white guys who are still spending hand me down slave profits from the 1800's. Are you pro reparations?

Pretty off topic but yeah, sure. If someone's ancestor owned someone else, reparations should be made. Unless of course the black guy is rich and the white guy is cooking crystal meth, then I think karma has already repaid the debt without big government stepping in.

Greg tossed a five hour energy bottle into the wastepaper basket. Ah, a conservative, maybe you will fit in here better than I. I voted for Obama I am not conservative i just want the government to stay in it's place, the president is not a dictator and I would like to keep it that way. I do not want to live in a totalitarian nation Americans deserve their free will. But some people should pay reparations, sure.

Look Richard, I get it, you're a good guy. But do not think slavery is dead. You should know its alive and well more than I, am I right Walmart?

At least I never got punched in the stomach while working for Walmart, Greg. You taught me that this job sucks just as bad if not worse. You wanna go to a party, Walmart? It's out in upstate, no one around for miles except for more of us, our company basically bought up a whole town out there.

Sure no problem. You may be responsible for my worst day at work ever but whatever I will go with you to this stupid party since it's a work thing and I can rub elbows with the executives.

After a few hours of driving, Greg and Richard were at the party. It was indeed in the middle of nowhere Richard never realized quite how desolate and lifeless New York state could feel.

Ok Richard, do not embarrass me everyone is at this party, all the rich old white bastards who run our building, even Electra the big boss is here. Richard rolled his eyes and groaned, exhausted from way too much Greg for one day. Why are you nervous? I should be nervous, I do not know anyone here.

Greg flashed a sociopathic grin, unmasking the emptiness of his heart. You will soon, and they can be a rowdy crowd. Richard stared Greg down in disbelief. Really, a bunch of old duffers can be a rowdy crowd?

These cracker sons of bitches can be real ball busters, trust me. Here is not the place to speak out of turn or say no to any offer, or you will be back at that customer service desk and you will not have to go crying to Electra about me ever again.

Richard sipped on his orange juice. Do not start getting weird again Greg, I am just starting to like you.

Let me introduce you to Adalbert, He pumps more money into our art business than anyone, he is like the top dog almost except for Electra. Sure, Greg.

Adalbert looked like Fabio's grand dad: Really old, really German, and way too built up for his golden years. Hi Richard nice to meet you I've heard so much about you. Would you like some red wine? I quit drinking to focus on my work but thanks.

So you do not drink with your bosses at parties? Uh, sure I will take a glass if it's gonna be a big deal. Richard was starting to get used to the weirdness.

Adalbert leaned in menacingly. I heard you cried like a little girl over a punch to the gut? Richard leaned back and gasped, not quite as used to the weirdness after all. Uh, I do not like being punched I think that puts me in the majority of office workers.

Adalbert drank about eight ounces of red wine in about two seconds. We are cut from a different cloth, sometimes we like a little brawl is there any harm in that?

Richard sipped on his glass of red wine catching the sickness of belligerence that seemed to infect his entire company. So you all think like Greg then? Everyone here likes to fight one another for no damn reason? Why? Adalbert laughed condescendingly. Why not? It's called letting off a little steam. You told Greg he should be a boxer, maybe I should to. Maybe I should box your ears for coming here.

Adalbert calmly put down his drink and boxed Richards ears. Blood poured down the holes in the sides of Richards head and he started feeling very dizzy and not from the wine.

Richard touched his ear, pulled back his hand and stared at the blood horrified, as if he had been shot. What the fuck? Let's fight Richard, if you cannot take on an old man like me, you just cannot hang and you will be terminated.

Richard grabbed Gregs arm like a scared child. This party is ass, Greg, lets go. Greg pushed Richard towards Adalbert. No way, you do not wanna lose your spot, do you? Then fight the old man for respect. He is really old, whats the worst that could happen?

Richard looked at Greg like he was insane. I could go against what I stand for and change into something I am not just to fit in with a crowd I have little respect for? Greg downed a beer too quickly, like a frat boy. So be it, fight the old man already now you're making me look badly for bringing you here buddy.

Richard and Adalbert stepped into the backyard and started hitting one another brutally. Actually it was all Adalbert. Richard could not get one punch in. And not for ethical reasons either, the old German bastard was just way too fast for him.

Did they drug my wine or something? This is not cool I am getting the crap kicked out of me by an old man and everyone from the office is laughing at me. I have never been in this much pain before, never been this embarrassed.

Richard awoke in a bed in a small dimly lit room with Electra sitting next to him. Adalbert really beat you up out there Richard, newfound respect. You took a good beating and stopped crying like a baby about it. I am impressed, you just earned yourself a big raise and alot of job security.

I was going to eat you alive over three weeks time but instead I think I will turn you into one of us, you really dodged a bullet back there by standing up for yourself for a change.

What are you talking about, are you psychotic? Are you all psychotic? I've shot you full of drugs so you cannot move but your still gonna feel all the pain, I get off on weird shit, kid.

Electra bit into Richards neck. What the fuck? Thought Richard. This is the worst pain ever I cannot believe this is really happening but more than that I cannot believe how much this fucking hurts. There is nothing sweet or loving about this at all, Ann rice lied to everyone. I bet she is really a vampire, fiction writer my ass.

Day 3.

Richard awoke at his desk feeling the worst hangover of his life.

What happened at that party Greg? I had the worst most lucid nightmare ever, it was crazy. Vampires, old men kicking my ass, I was even mad at Ann Rice which is funny because I only saw the movies, I never could finish one of her boring books, I should've been mad at Tom Cruise for acting in the damn thing. Hah! Nope, you are a vampire now, get used to it buddy, because the only way out now is being turned into a giant sippy cup for the elders. I am gonna go talk to Electra because I am so not in the mood for Greg brand crazy right now "buddy".

Electra, what happened last night? Did you see me at the party? Did anything weird happen between us, like really freaky? What the hell? Get out of my office you little pervert! Just kidding yeah, Adalbert beat the shit out of you and then I turned you into a vampire because you impressed me.

Let's take a drive and I shall explain it all on the way. Drive where? No more "parties". Just around town, trust someone for a change Richard you can be so paranoid, God.

I should be paranoid You bit my throat. Some old mad beat me up with the energy of someone my age. And sane people do not believe in vampires by the way. So I need a sane sober explanation and I need one now. I have a limousine and a chauffeur, ride with me. Fine lets do this.

Accept that your a vampire and move forward already. Exhausted and flabbergasted Richard decided to play along. Can I still eat? You can drink wine water anything you need to drink to fit in. How about solid foods? If you want to waste your time, sure.

We have a big basement under Adalberts mansion where we keep the food, it was almost your new home before you manned up. I hired you to become a human resource. Richard buried his head in his hands and groaned. Nice to know. There is the sissy talk again.

Anyway, we have these 65 year old twins with big red birth defects on their faces. It's called the red Judas scar. Right.

It keeps their blood flowing no matter how much we feed on them, but their blood has grown stale, their bodies disgusting to feed from due to their old age. Once they die a few younger employees might be let go back into the job pool. When I say job pool I am speaking metaphorically about a pit filled with young vampires we may need to turn into food stock if worse comes to worse.

Me for example? Yes, you are on my maybe list for sure, kiddo. The tree of life need be watered with blood once Jesus turns his back on you, Richard. Maybe you will be the roots maybe you will be the water.

This is nuts, Electra. I will help you find more red Judas scar types for you to drink from, I promise. Fifty dollars a hour, that is your new rate of pay. But fuck this up and you are dead. Fine. Richard wished he had stayed at Walmart.

Richard tried to use the internet to track down people with the red Judas scar, but they seemed to keep a pretty low profile. Greg sat down next to Richard and scooted his chair close to Richards. Any luck?

None. Maybe they keep a low profile for good reason. I would hate to be them, hell I hate to be me, I would really hate to be one of them. I give up, how do we usually find people with the red Judas scar? Dunno, luck I guess. There is not a GPS for the red Judas scarred. I am done for the day. Let's go to a bar and get laid.

Can we still sleep with normal women? Yeah, and they sure taste better than those wrinkly old blood bags in the basement of Adalberts place. So you just murder them? We all gotta go sometime. Look, just come with me to the bar we will get laid and no feeding I promise, I was young once too, I know how you feel, your an outsider, even among other outsiders, but you will fit in just fine down the line.

Richard leaned in so as not to shout over the loud and largely pointless club music raping the ears of the small bars patrons. Can we still get STDs? We can still carry them, but they cannot hurt us, and we are sterile because we are dead.

So go after the cheapest tart in here nothing to fear from these chicks anymore. Take this roofie with you. Drop this in her drink, and cheers mate, lechaim. Richard groaned. Oh great, now I am in a cheap bar with a date rape drug in my pocket, so glad I found an union job at last.

Richard walked up to a girl who looked like an off-duty stripper. She had short clown-red hair and her arms were covered with the sort of tattoos young women get when they are drunk: Hearts, butterflies, even an unicorn. Her tattooed arms foreshadowed many nights filled with poor decisions as did her drag-queenian wig. Maybe Richard would be her next poor choice.

Richard sat down next to her with the posture of a rock star in the 1980's, an insufferably trite display of implied self worth. What's good? What a cheese ball pickup line, get lost, dickhead. Sorry, can I buy you a drink?

I would need more than one before you seemed like less of an asshole. I am sorry, how about we go buy a cup of coffee and talk? This place is nasty. My uncle owns this bar and he would kick the crap out of you if he heard you talk like that about his business.

What is your problem anyway? Can't you see I wanna be left alone? My shift here just ended and I do not want to flirt or pick up guys I am just tired. I get free drinks here anyway so I do not need your drinks boys do not hand out free drinks and I am not about to repay your kindness if you know what I mean, so fuck off. Bye.

Richard saw another woman sitting in the corner this one looked plain and reserved but he was done judging how easy women were by looks alone, at least tonight. After a throw-away two hour conversation with Cindy about her ex boyfriends and how she was not going to tie herself down to one man anymore not even for the sake of the baby, unless she found a really great guy spiced with strong hints that she did not think Richard was said "reeeally great-guy"

He was in her bedroom and in her panties. While hitting her from behind he noticed she had a single tattoo. A tramp stamp. It was trying to hide something. A red Judas scar, it matched the color and pattern described to him by Electra perfectly. He felt like he had found Smaug the magnificent's bare patch.

Cindy lit a cigarette and sipped on a glass of wine. That was decent she slurred. You are not a very good lover, Richard. Richard did not care about her rude evaluation of his sexual prowess he was more concerned with the guilt he felt. He was going to let her suffer for years rather than damning himself to a short life of torture. He was shaking with guilt.

Stan is with his grandmother for the weekend. He wants to see his daddy. When should I explain to him that daddy is a murderer? "Oh, sorry son, daddy works for a Mexican drug lord, daddy beheaded a judge and left the head on ice in a cooler in front of the local court house."

Richard was not sure if he could go through with this after all. What would happen to her son? Richard thought. Would his grandmother raise him, or would he go live in a foster home, or even worse, live with his horrible father and end up joining a gang? I guess it's either her or me.

Sounds like you got knocked up by a real piece of shit, said Richard. But now you've got a good kid and no one to help you take care of him except for your mom. Yeah That is right, said Cindy, her voice quavering with rage. So nice of you to half ass a pretense of caring you self centered little prick.

I left a little present in your drink Cindy, I am sorry about this I really am. Cindy was so shocked she nearly fell off the bed. You fuckin drugged me? I knew you were a creep but slipping me a roofie? I'm calling the cops.

Cindy picked up her cell phone but she passed out before she could call the police. As the phone fell out of her hand it then fell into his. Richard promptly called Electra popping a couple of Tums as her phone rang to fight back against the tsunami of stomach acid that his guilt was creating.

Hi Electra... I am fine... Well I found a woman with a Judas scar... Yeah I roofied her and she is ready to be picked up... Ok I will text you her address I just have to walk out front and double check it so that you will not get lost... Ok bye.

The sun was coming up right as Electra's limo pulled into Cindy's driveway. Damnit, the sun, thought Richard. I was up all night, I am gonna need soo much coffee tomorrow.

Day 4.

Do we always need to drug her before we feed off her? Richard asked, his mouth dripping with blood. Only at first replied Electra, wiping the blood from her chin. Either she learns to behave or we break out the straps. There is lots of straps down here in her new home, and a lifetime of pain and obedience.

You might be management material, Richard.

Fin

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— Mars (Email the Bucket Bros)


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