25 June 21 – Trying to Kill my Boss
Hope you’re having another great week
|This week’s email comes with a warning – saving the environment can be dangerous.|
Before I started Skwiggles, I worked at the local factory. As far as I could tell, my job was to sit in the corner of the office and thinking about good times to come.
I was really good at it.
Every now and again I would get myself off my butt and maybe treat myself to a wee-wee.
When I’d finished the aforementioned wee-wee, I always did my bit for the environment and knocked the toilet light off on my way out. Well done me.
It was a bit fiddly in that outfit, but not to worry.
This particular day, after my visit, I was walking away from the toilets and I had a vague feeling that a cubicle door had been shut when I knocked the light off. And there was no window in there so it was probably pitch back.
Nah, don’t be silly, said that internal voice that doesn’t care. I never heard any fertive rustling and it would’ve been weird if I’d gone back and stuck my head back round the door just to peek in.
So I moved on with my life.
15 minutes later I’d heard the big boss had been rushed to hospital. Apparently, some bumwipe (let’s called him that because it’s in keeping with the theme, but it was much stronger than that, I assure you) had knocked the toilet light off when he was in the cubicle and, as he was struggling to open the cubicle door in the pitch black, he’d smashed his eye and forehead on the sharp-cornered door opening.
According to the office rumours, he was in a right state, blood everywhere.
Office people: ‘Who would do such a thing? Who’d knock the light off when someone was in there? What an absolute…’ again we can use bumwipe.
I had two options, and this is the one I chose
The boss came in the next day with a black eye and some forehead stitches and was in a very bad mood. I avoided his office and used the toilets at the other side of the factory, which was quite a walk when you’re busting (just trying to get some sympathy back here)
Three weeks later it was the work’s Christmas party and the guilt had been eating me alive, especially so after eight pints. The boss was standing close by, talking to two other Senior Managers, so I took my chance.
I walked up as meekly as possible.
What the noose was doing in a pub, I don’t know? But it didn’t help.
‘What?’ He said.
‘I did that.’ Pointing to his scar. ‘I’m sorry, it was just habit knocking the light off….’
My voice trailed off. When confronted by authority figures my voice always trails off mid-sentence so that’s nothing to worry about.
Now, if you can remember that seven-minute opening sequence to Once Upon a Time in the West, where those three bad guys are waiting for the train to come in.
Well that was exactly what it was like.
All I could hear was the creaky sound of a windmill, the buzzing of a fly, the cracking of well-used knuckles. above the distant sound of my desk being cleared out.
The steam train came and went. I broke the deafening silence in the heat of the mid-day sun (very warm Christmas that year).
‘Did you bring a horse for me?’ I said.
My boss and his two buddies glance behind at the three horses tied up outside: ‘Well… looks like we’re shy one horse.’
I shook my head ‘You brought two too many.’
Then I finished off what I started 3 weeks ago in that toilet, and killed all three of them with a single bullet.
Do you think this has accidentally gone a bit cowboyie because ‘It’s fine, Ian, don’t worry about it.’ was a boring finish?
Well, if you think that, you lilly-livered son of a prairie dog, step outside and…
You’re right, I got halfway through that and I didn’t have a good ending. That, and I really want to be Charles Bronson.
That’s it once again.
There is a slight extra bit to the toilet story. About four months after the gunfight in the pub, I was in the cubicle, minding my own business (literally). A mysterious stranger came in, used the urinal, washed his hands and left. On his way out he knocked the light out.
In the darkness, I had a few questions. Did the boss see me go in? Was this revenge? Or, if there’s another light-knocker-offerer, was it even me who tried to kill him in the first place? And the biggest question of all, do you even give a monkey’s?
And yes, the corner of that door is sharp.
Enjoy your weekend.
Take care and all the best,