Humancorp Incorporated

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Humancorp Incorporated Page 23

by Andrew Stanek


  At this juncture, all the anarchists in unison ceased their salutes, raised their rifles, and pointed them at Delroy.

  “Not me, goddamnit!” Delroy raved. “The other authority figures! Anyway, we’re gonna tear everything down. We’ll smash the system, and destroy the institutions, and burn down the agencies of organized society, because society doesn’t need organization. Why? Because we believe in free thinking, and free spirits, and free minds, and freedom! And that’s why we’re going to take over the world and force everyone to think exactly the same way we do!”

  “Yes, leader,” came the booming monotone.

  “No,” screamed Delroy. “I didn’t tell you to say anything! Don’t say anything until I tell you to, damn you!”

  “You know what all this reminds me of?” Sean murmured to Noel. “I mean, all the shouting and profanity and stuff? It reminds me of Humancorp.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Noel said, looking, very unimpressed, at Delroy. “Net him now.”

  “No! I’m not going to do that. All the anarchists will shoot me.”

  “Oh, you’ll get over it. Get netting.”

  Noel then covertly took out the magic wand and pointed it at Delroy. It didn’t beep.

  “Huh?” Noel said. “Wait, Sean. Don’t use the net yet. Maybe Delroy isn’t the defective person after all.”

  Noel pointed the detector at the stage and quickly ran it over all the other people. Noel had silenced the beep, but it started to flash madly when he pointed it at one of the other anarchists towards the back of the stage.

  “That’s Second Anarchist First Organizer Guy Meyer!” Noel exclaimed. “He’s the one we have to net! Go net him, Sean.”

  “I really do think they’ll kill me,” Sean said.

  “Oh, who cares?” Noel said. “Just go get him so we can wrap up this mission and call it a day. We’re running behind schedule. Dinero wanted us to finish this job before the end of regular business hours, remember? It’s just about that time now.”

  Sean frowned, but did not move to net anyone. Instead, he continued to watch Delroy speak.

  “Today is the great operation, my friends and subordinates. Today’s the day we utterly crush our bitter, putrid, scum-sucking, toad-licking enemies-”

  “Oh, no,” Sean said.

  “-General OmniAll!”

  “Hey, he didn’t say Humancorp,” Sean whispered. “I thought he meant us.”

  Noel rubbed his eyes in frustration.

  “We’re going to march on their headquarters, burn down their buildings, tear up their pay stubs, shred their calendars, and incinerate their corporate policies!” cried Delroy. “With that in mind, I have one order for you: whenever you come across any corporate fascist, immediately kill him! Show him no mercy! Kill him at once! And remember, corporate fascists may try to hide from us! Perhaps they are even hiding among us right now, in this very hall, pretending to be anarchists themselves!”

  Sean and Noel shifted uncomfortably.

  “Remember that you can identify the corporate fascist by his tells,” roared Delroy. “The use of the fascist, statist products of the imperialist corporate-industrial complex! The pay stub! The tie! The use of corporate buzzwords, like assets, synergy, performance reviews, and return-on-investment! And, of course, the idols of the cult of capitalist consumerism: entertainment magazines, cable news programs, and smartphones! Anyone who reads an entertainment magazine, or watches a cable news program, or above all else, uses a smartphone, is a bitter enemy. These things are the false nectar and ambrosia of the system that is our enemy! Remember! Smartphones!”

  At just this moment, Noel’s smartphone started to loudly ring.

  Every pair of eyes turned on Noel. Wincing, Noel fumbled with it and accidentally accepted the call. Herman’s face appeared on the screen.

  “Noel, Sean,” Herman said. “The CEO asked me to call you to determine why you have yet to capture the defective person on behalf of us, Humancorp, your employer! There isn’t any synergy in tardiness, Noel. You’re delivering poor return-on-investment as a Humancorp asset. This may reflect badly on you in your next performance review, which will, of course, show up in your pay stub. Also, put your tie back on. Failing to wear a tie is unprofessional. Why did you take it off? Have you been reading those entertainment magazines and watching cable news again?”

  Noel stared around and grinned sheepishly. He had to do this because about five thousand homicidal anarchists were pointing their guns at him.

  He and Sean threw up their hands in surrender.

  Chapter 27

  Sean and Noel were quickly captured and manhandled away from the large crowd of anarchists, then forced uncomfortably into chairs in a stark backroom without any windows. It was concrete and cold, and there was a single metal table to separate them from their captors.

  “Hey, you didn’t immediately kill us,” Sean said with a frown. “You said that all corporate fascists should be immediately killed.”

  “Shut up,” Noel muttered to him.

  “Silence,” roared Tribune Alphonse Delroy, who had just entered the room with a number of heavily armed subordinates. Noel nudged Sean and pointed at Guy Meyer, who had come into the room with Alphonse, but Sean wasn’t paying attention. The anarchists had made the foolish mistake of leaving their hands untied, and Sean was feeling around the floor of the stark room for something to steal.

  “In accordance with the laws of anarchy, you will be presented with the evidence against you before we kill you most horribly,” said Guy Meyer. “This evidence will prove you’re corporate fascists.”

  He started to lay their possessions, including Noel’s smartphone, on the cold table in front of them.

  Sean frowned.

  “You know, you keep calling us fascists, but we’re not fascists.”

  “Sieg heil!” shouted Herman, who was still connected via the smartphone.

  “Okay, but some of us aren’t fascists,” conceded Sean. “And you know, it’s not really any different here than it is back at Humancorp headquarters. In fact, I keep thinking of how similar it is.”

  “Silence!” Delroy shouted again. “First Organizer, show us the evidence against them!”

  “One smartphone,” documented Meyer.

  “The devil’s device,” growled Delroy. “A product of the corporate industrial complex.”

  “One corporate handbook,” continued Meyer.

  “Damning evidence! A code of fascist conduct, in complete violation of the laws of anarchism.”

  “One... is this one of the bricks from the base of the statue in the atrium?” Meyer wondered.

  “I stole it while we were there,” Sean said to Noel, winking as he did.

  “Enough with the evidence,” said Delroy. “It’s obvious you two are corporate fascists. You sicken me. It’s exactly because of people like you that I got into anarchism in the first place. Well, that, and because I wanted to prove myself. My mother always loved my older brother, Dominique, more than she loved me because he was a Particularly Cynical Atheist. It was always, ‘oh, isn’t Dominique lovely because he thinks God doesn’t exist and life is a depressing, meaningless farce without writer or script?’ Kisses and hugs for Quaestor Dominique Delroy, head of the Church of Particularly Cynical Atheists, while little Alphonse gets to cook a tub of Play-Doh for food.”

  “Wait,” Sean said. “I think I know your brother. Quaestor Dominique Delroy? Yeah, I definitely know him.”

  “You know him?” Alphonse said in surprise. “He’s the head of the Church of Particularly Cynical Atheists.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Sean.

  “He’s about two inches taller than me and wears a black robe.”

  “Oh, never mind then,” said Sean. “I must have been thinking of a different Quaestor Dominique Delroy, Head of the Church of Particularly Cynical Atheists.”

  “Quite alright, happens all the time. Now, where was I? Oh yes, so I joined the Mandatory Organization of Anarchism to fight the
power and tear down the system that benefits people like my brother! It hasn’t been easy, what with the complaining Anarchist’s Union always threatening to go on strike and the Association for the Advancement of Anarchists constantly breathing down my neck... Plus, disobeying all laws all the time is really a pain. You have to remember to buy a dog and instruct him to constantly do his business on the sidewalk, and punch strangers as you walk past them down the street, and rob every bank you encounter, and conduct illegal insider trades without filing with the SEC... but despite all that, I have assembled the force of anarchists that will strike the killing blow against General OmniAll. Finally, global order will be destroyed.”

  “And then what are you going to do?” asked Sean.

  “Break every law in peace, then go back to my mom and brother and stick it in their faces, of course,” snapped Delroy. “What else?”

  “I mean, but what’s going to happen to the rest of the people in the world?” jumped in Noel.

  “They’ll be freed from their status as corporate wage slaves and made to live as anarchists for the rest of their lives,” Delroy said. “Or else!”

  “I potentially see a few problems with this plan-” started Noel, but Delroy cut him off.

  “The plan is not up for debate,” Delroy said. “The point is this: we captured you Humancorp spies, who somehow managed to locate our well-labelled top-secret headquarters, then infiltrated it to assassinate me and bring down organized anarchism as we know it. Well, you have failed. I will now call in the Authoritative Jury of Anarchism, the body of my most trusted advisors, to determine the exact way in accordance with law that we will inflict unimaginably horrible pain upon you.”

  Delroy opened the door, and several more people trickled in.

  “Behold, my three highest advisors,” said Delroy. “Supreme Commander of All Anarchist and Icelandic Forces, General Disorder!”

  “The war against the oppressors awaits!” roared General Disorder, a broad-shouldered, bald man in uniform and wearing sunglasses.

  “Next, anarchism’s greatest intellectual thinker, the Archnihilist Nils!”

  Nils was a strangely familiar-looking man with slick blond hair.

  “I’m Nils and welcome- ah, to hell with it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and slumping down into the chair.

  “Wait, I thought you were the Supreme Nihilist,” said Noel.

  “I am, but it doesn’t matter,” Delroy said, straightening his uniform. “Anyway, and you already know my third advisor, the Second First Organizer of Anarchism, Guy Meyer!”

  Guy Meyer nodded slightly. He was an unremarkable brown-haired man of middling height with bags under his eyes.

  “Wait, why are all your advisors and all your command staff men?” Sean asked.

  “Coincidence!” Delroy said confidently. “Definitely for completely merit and performance-based reasons and not anything illegal that could get me sued by the Association for the Advancement of Anarchism again.”

  “Oh, good,” said Sean.

  “I forgot someone,” Delroy muttered. “Oh, yes, and in addition to my top three advisors, our visiting Rhodes Scholar and Chief Gardening Advisor, Rodney Woods!”

  “Dad?” Sean said in disbelief as his father appeared from behind Delroy.

  “Death to begonias!” screamed Rodney insanely. “Also, hello, son. How are you?”

  “Good,” Sean said.

  Noel whacked him.

  “I mean, I’m about to get murdered by anarchists. You never told me that you were an advisor to the Mandatory Organization of Anarchists.”

  “You never asked,” Rodney said with a shrug.

  “Now, Authoritative Jurists of Anarchism, tell me your opinions on these corporate interlopers and how best to execute them,” Delroy commanded.

  “Spies,” roared General Disorder. “Shoot them at dawn!”

  “They’re certainly our sworn enemies,” said Guy Meyer. “I say we should hang them.”

  “In my judgment, they’re definitely begonias,” said Rodney.

  “Dad!” Sean exclaimed.

  “Sorry, son. It comes with the job.”

  “I’m not a begonia,” Sean said, crossing his arms.

  “What about you, Archnihilist?” Delroy asked, turning to Nils.

  “Eh, it doesn’t matter,” said Nils with a shrug.

  “Well, we’re doomed,” Noel said to Sean. “Our only hope now is to defy them by taking our own lives. Hand me my suicide pills.”

  “I’m not falling for this again,” Sean said, crossing his arms. “I’ll defy them in my own way.”

  Delroy consulted a massive index of the Expanded Laws of Anarchism, seemingly considering what hideous fate to inflict upon them.

  “I have decided upon the most torturous, gruesome death imaginable for you,” said Delroy.

  “What’s that?” Noel asked.

  “We’re going to chop off your genitals, light them on fire, and feed them to you.”

  “Ha!” Sean said, crossing his arms defiantly. “I’d like to see you try!”

  A brief silence followed.

  “Wait, let me walk that back a little,” Sean said.

  “Too late,” said Delroy. He reached under the table and produced a cleaver, a can of gasoline, and a spoon.

  “Ugh,” Noel said, surveying the cleaver, gasoline, and spoon. “This really is just like being back at the office.”

  “Now, this is kinda gross, so I’m actually not going to stick around to watch it,” Delroy said matter-of-factly. “I was in the middle of a speech when you two interrupted me, and I have to get ready for our massive campaign to tear down the global establishment. We march against our enemies at General OmniAll tonight. It will be a daring twilight raid against their pancake factory, and we will win a victory truly worth remembering. General OmniAll are the most vicious, vile, and putrid corporate fascists imaginable. They kill people in the streets and harvest their organs to sell, ruthlessly and relentlessly chase down and murder anyone who dares leave the company, and produce cute childrens’ toys out of high explosives to save money. They must be destroyed and I will be the one to destroy them! Fight the power! Meyer, I leave you to carry out the sentence. Come, General Disorder! Nils! Rodney! We, the anarchists, march to take over the world!”

  “To battle!” roared General Disorder.

  “Eh,” said Nils.

  “Begonias!” Rodney howled.

  Forming up a line behind Delroy, the Authoritative Jurists and other functionaries stood and exited the room. This left Sean and Noel alone with Guy Meyer.

  “This is just like my dad,” Sean said, crossing his arms. “Doesn’t even come to his own son’s execution. It’s like graduation all over again.”

  “I thought you stole your English degree,” said Noel.

  “Yes, at a graduation. Dad didn’t even bother to show up. He’s always been like this. He never has time for his son, because he’s so busy with his anti-begonia activism he forgets about his family. It’s exactly because of things like this that I joined Al Qaeda.”

  “Which wasn’t the organization with Osama Bin Laden in it, but a different organization of the same name,” Noel recalled.

  “Well, we had a Osama Bin Laden, but it wasn’t that Osama Bin Laden. Our Osama was a clean-shaven blond white guy.”

  “Mmm.”

  There was a pause. Noel eyed the can of gasoline and the cleaver.

  “Before we die, I want you to know that I’ve hated you from the moment we met and have been secretly conspiring to trick you into killing yourself by taking suicide pills ever since,” Noel said to Sean.

  “I think I knew that,” said Sean. “Wait, why did you save me from dying then?”

  “I keep telling you; that was different,” Noel snapped.

  Guy Meyer coughed for attention.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “I am the one executing you here. You could do me the common courtesy of paying some attention to me.”

  “F
ine, fine,” Sean said with a sigh, and turned to look at Guy Meyer.

  Meyer picked up the cleaver and the gasoline can. Noel winced and shrunk away, but Guy Meyer suddenly gave the pair of men a friendly smile and dropped both objects onto the floor.

  “Don’t worry,” Meyer whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  He unslung his rifle and placed it on the table in a gesture of good faith.

  “You’re not?” Sean said, amazed. “Why not? Practically everyone wants to hurt me!”

  “But we’re you’re mortal enemies,” protested Noel. “We’re from Humancorp.”

  “Great,” Meyer said. “I love corporations! Some of my best friends are corporations! In fact, I’ve always wanted to be a corporate employee. Wearing a tie, answering emails, going to meetings about how to leverage our market position to create shareholder value... it all sounds so wonderful. I’m secretly a corporate sympathizer and have been for years. I’ve helped thousands of corporatists escape from the Mandatory Organization of Anarchists.”

  Noel looked dumbstruck. Wordlessly, he picked up his magic wand and pointed it at Meyer. It started to beep and flash frantically.

  Another pause followed.

  “So your defect is that you... aren’t an anarchist?” Noel guessed.

  “Could be,” Meyer agreed. “It’s so good to meet you, corporate friends! Let me help you get out of here. You’re not restrained, so all you have to do is get up and run to the exit. It’s down the hall and to the left. No one should stop you because everyone’s at the leader’s speech. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Go! Here are your things. Golly, a smartphone. I’ve always wanted one of these. Do you think the corporations would give me a smartphone if I worked for them?”

 

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