Chapter Forty-Seven
Sledgehammer
I have always been one to strongly rebel against authority when authority was telling me something I didn’t want to hear. But authority holding a nine at point blank range will squash the spirit out of even the most non-conforming rebel.
I placed my hands on top of my head and started what may have been a world record slow turn.
“Mick, you fell for the old ‘look at the naked babe but not the gunman hiding behind the door’ trick. You need to watch more late night TV.”
“How about if I go home and do that right now, Dusty. In fact…”
Before I completed my thought, I completed my turn. I came face to face with the mysterious Shareholder. In the space of five minutes, Mick the Unstunnable, was once again stunned.
“Mr. Copeland? Cindy’s Dad? You’re The Shareholder? But, uh, mmm, what?”
“Mick, I’m impressed you recognize me after all these years. I put on a few pounds and got a little grayer, but I guess I’m still pretty unforgettable. And you can call me Rich, not Richard, Rich. That better describes what I am and always will be.”
While I thought that “Dick” better described what he was and always would be, I said, “Yes, sir.” Superior firepower always commands respect.
“Yuck. You smell like you have been sleeping on the floor of a burned out control room. And that Panther’s T-shirt looks like it was puked up by a panther.”
“Very funny, Dusty.”
“Thanks, Mick. What wasn’t funny was my having to drag your fat ass halfway across the plant in the middle of the night. I had to stuff you somewhere until we got Chuck to give up his piece of the formula. Thank God for wheelbarrows. I wanted to strip you naked but I couldn’t get your jeans off. I thought it was quite nice of me to place your shirt under your head so you could have some sweet dreams.”
“Pardon me if I don’t say thank you.”
“How did you get away? I used my best gift wrapping skills to tape you up.”
“Let’s just say I worked like a dog to get free. Speaking of dogs, you bitch…”
“That’s enough, you two. We have a few more minutes until the drugs wear off for old Chucky over there. Mick, why don’t you have a seat and let me tell you a little story?”
I sat in the office chair in front of Chuck’s desk. I must have sat in this very spot several hundred times, but never in a situation remotely resembling this one. The naked Dusty went over and sat on Chuck’s lap. Rich moved behind Chuck’s chair and placed a hand on his bare shoulder. While the nine moved through space with Rich, the hole at the end of it never left the center of my forehead. My only movement was limited sweat traveling down my back. I felt like I was about to have another type of movement in my jeans.
“Relax, Mick, it’s just business.”
“Oh, Daddy, you’re so funny.”
Daddy? Daddy? What? Dusty was Cindy’s sister? Jesus!
“You’re little baby Darlene?”
“I have always hated that name. Dusty seems to suit me better. And I’m all grown up now,” Dusty cooed as she ran her hands over her obviously excited breasts and sensually bit her lower lip.
My head began to spin faster than a barn owl’s on a windy night. “But you said you’re last name was Koepke, not Copeland.”
“Oh, I might have fibbed a little. Koepke was the last name of my favorite professor at college that showed me unique ways to earn straight A’s.”
The Shareholder (a.k.a. Daddy or a.k.a. Rich) chimed in, “Gee, Mick, you looked like someone told you the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus aren’t real. While we wait for Chucky Cheese Ball to come back to life, let me give you a short tutorial on how business works in the world of the all powerful Shareholder. But first, are you comfortable? Anything we can do for you?”
“You could start by pointing that thing at something other than my forehead.”
“How about your nuts?”
“Oh, Daddy, don’t be crude.” This coming from a blond vixen draping her birthday suit all over my boss’s birthday suit?
“I’m just kidding, honey. You think you could find something to ensure Mick stays put?”
“Sure. I know just the thing.”
Dusty jumped up and headed out of the room. Even though I would have gladly strangled her with my bare hands, I couldn’t help but have a touch of lust invade my heart as we had skin on skin contact when she slid by.
“Well, Mick, here we are. You know, years ago, I had high hopes for you. My vision back then was that you would marry my oldest daughter, be working at Woodland and would be my onsite eyes and ears. That would have made things so much easier. But nooooo. She told me that you had changed. Once you started working at the plant you smelled funny and didn’t care about the things she cared about. What a crock. You smelled like money because that what Woodland is. A big fat money machine. Or at least it was. But more on that later. And what did Cindy care about? Fucking classical music. And apparently that’s what she was doing with that loser of a band director she wanted to marry. I forbade it and they ran off to Vegas together. Last I heard, they were living in some shack off the strip and playing in some fourth rate dive for an audience of blue haired classical music fags and hags.”
This guy was all class.
“Thank God I knocked up my girlfriend and she had Dusty.”
“What about your wife?”
“Oh, you mean Cindy’s natural mom? You might wonder why she was never home when you came over. Why you never met her. Cindy said she was always out on business or at a school meeting or some other such nonsense. The truth is she was gone by then. She got pretty pissed when she found out I had a bun baking in another oven. Plus she was over forty and starting to sag a bit. So I threw a couple of million at her and kicked her to the curb.”
Yup, all class. All of the low variety.
“Back to Dusty. Now there’s a girl with a proper mind for business. Got her mom’s great stripper looks, too. We told you her mom was our nanny, Rosie Gomez. What a hoot. A tall blonde Swedish babe with huge knockers named Rosie Gomez? And you bought it! Her real name was Boom Boom Laboom. Sometimes I even crack myself up! Hey, sweetie…”
Dusty came back in the office and stood behind me. I turned and saw she was carrying the one thing that terrified me more that Rich’s nine millimeter. In her hand was a large roll of duct tape.
MBA - Moron$ Ba$ and A$$ Page 48