Volume 3 Number 1


Winter 2004

Workers of the World

M. Lamb

The other day, I murdered my boss, but they replaced her before anyone found out. You can imagine my surprise when I walked in.

"Hello," she said, "I'm your new boss."

I greeted her warmly and put on my best shit-eating grin, but by the end of the day it was no use. So, I killed her, too.

This time, they waited two days to replace her. She met me at the door.

"Hello," she said, "I'm your new boss."

This time I did not grin as warmly. Nor did I extend a hand. This was getting ridiculous, but no one wanted to take responsibility. This time, she was dead by noon.

At least I was slowing them down. For this, my coworkers were grateful. Then, at a staff meeting a week later, a woman stood up.

"Hello," she said, "I'm your new boss."

She smiled, and everyone glowered at me. I sighed, got up for coffee, and chopped off her head before returning to my seat. A secretary grumbled about the mess.

"You do it next time, then." I said. That's the worst of it. You volunteer for a job no one else wants, but people still feel they have the right to complain.

The problem seemed fixed. Productivity increased. Worker morale soared. People planned vacations. Until one day, I walked into the office.

"Hello," they said, "we are your new bosses."

I groaned. Now there were two of them. But I have never been one to turn away from hard work. That is my best quality: I always do what must be done. Their heads were gone within the hour. I had the secretary call maintenance to clean the rug.

The next day, I was not surprised that four more showed up. Then there were sixteen, then thirty-two. I could not keep up. The more I killed, the more they sent. Vacations were canceled. Productivity fell. Morale went in the toilet. And, of course, there was union trouble.

In war, the innocent suffer, at least if you are serious about winning. So I blew up the building, killing everyone. I figured my co-workers would have forgiven me, as long as I took out the bosses.

I would now have to work in a gaping crater, but setbacks are to be expected when you work for change. And no one could deny that I had worked. Who had worked harder and complained less?

A tap on my shoulder. I turned to face a smiling worker.

"Hello," she said, "I hear you're our new boss."

A glint of sunshine fell across her axe.