Works by
Kane X. Faucher
"A Selection from Tyranny Whenever."
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The Perfect Businessman
By Kane X. Faucher
Hello there, cheerful end-user! How would you like to follow around a high-impact power-pumping success story for a day? What am I saying? Of course you would!
I begin my day by leaping out of bed with a triumphant roar, fully clothed in my Never-Wrinkle ™ power-suit! I then go to the mirror and make growling noises, power-stares, and flex my muscles in the mirror while I repeat all the wisdom my motivational tapes taught me. I tell myself how attractive I am, and that my virility is linked to my purchasing power, and that all women are in love with my brazen business ways. After I slick my hair with a good dose of gel for my Superman hairdo, admire my chin cleft, and brush my teeth with great vigour, it’s time for breakfast. Yum!
I read the financial section of my morning paper over a whiskey-spiked protein shake while making meaningful noises in my throat which oscillate between concerned interest and interested concern. The Golden Road to Success keeps me very busy! You’ll never see me loafing around! Even when I am examining the stock market, I have Tokyo on speed dial. “Buy!”, I say. “Sell! Hold! Rally! Split dividends! Bull!” I find not speaking in complete sentences to be the acme of efficiency. I mean, who can be bothered to finish a sentence when time is money? It doesn’t matter if I know what I am talking about in these high stakes business calls…What matters is that I am a man of business, a man on the move, a real mover and shaker, a ladder-climber to the heights of profitable success… unlike my goldfish, Ford, who just floats around on his back all day. I sprinkle some food on him and notice that he’s getting a bit pudgy. Better scale your food consumption back another 13%, Ford, you’re letting your sloth and idleness become a life obstacle!
I throw random papers into a briefcase, issue another triumphant roar in the hall mirror of my opulent 2 million dollar home, and jump into my black BMW with the all-leather interior. Since it is an odd-numbered day, I play Bruce Springsteen at top volume. On even-numbered days I listen to the wisdom of right wing radio pundits. Well, look at this: I was able to shave off 2 minutes from my morning preparation schedule! I’m already 5% more efficient today! I’m so happy that I pull over and take a steaming victory piss in the nearest phone booth. Life is great for chargers like us!
I charge into the office and yell my good morning to the secretary. I ask her if I have had any calls, and immediately rush off before she can reply because I am just too busy! Once in my office, I throw piles of paper around with meaningful purpose, and call business contacts at random on three phones at once. Then we start video conferencing. I toss around my Nerf football and take a five-minute self-motivation break where I hoot and snort like I did back in college when I was a football star. I love making sport analogies with business, and I measure all my successes in life—increased production rates on the quarter, seamless business mergers, office temps I bang on my lunch hour, getting a clean bill of sexual health after a few too many prostitutes—as “life touchdowns”.
My co-champions visit me occasionally. Sometimes we speak only in numbers and speculate on new acquisitions. Other times we talk about sports or tell hilarious jokes about big-breasted women. My laugh is deep and loud, as 100% manly in sound as I am in body! Today we were having a problem: one of our new guys has dropped the ball on a new trade deal that would have seen our corporation increase its capital gains. He is a meek and small man, and frankly I think he may be a faggot. Not that I have anything against homosexuals, but in today’s high-paced environment, we need men! Strong, burly, white heterosexual males who have for so long best represented real power. Homosexuals are people, too, but perhaps they should do like other races and entertain us on Broadway, or serve us our power-sushi luncheons, or wear funny clothes for our drunken amusement. I tell the new guy that he’s fired. Of course, I drape a fatherly arm around his shoulders and give him a speech first, telling him that this is a merciless, cutthroat career. I make plenty of helpfully instructive references about how I succeeded, and how my dedication to the cash nexus allows me to be a benchmarker of victory. After I issue a few more business lingo maxims, I can him! We don’t wait for anyone…The Shuttle of success is rolling fast, and you have to sink or swim! A rolling stone gathers no dust, and the bird in the bush is two stones overdrawn, and…you get the idea.
Near to lunchtime, I have exactly three minutes to spare in order to rush out, thump my chest, and crack a joke with my co-champion associates. I punctuate the event by picking up the water cooler over my head and hurling it at one of the office temps. He suffered a concussion. We all share a big manly laugh! In our train of laughter, it’s time to go to Mimi’s for sushi and plenty of relaxing beverages. All of our lunches are working lunches since the business world doesn’t stop just because you need to eat, drink and carouse! Even as I stumble drunk into the lavatory with an underage prostitute to snort a few lines of victory powder, I’ve got my cell phone head set on to continue conducting affairs while my Mr. Jones is getting his motivational lick.
I return from my lunch hour pleasantly refreshed and ready to tackle the next round of riveting challenges. After I give a kindly slap on the ass of my secretary to promote office morale, I’m back to work, yelling confidently into the telephone with our contacts in Tokyo. I have to yell louder than usual since the Japanese are so far away and have difficulty with the language of business. But they know how to throw one helluva party!
By about two in the afternoon, I am obligated to give a presentation of our quarterly earnings report. Armed with a whole bunch of confusing bar graphs and pie charts, I vigorously utter nearly meaningful series of numbers and figures while making extended use of my fancy new laser pointer. While in the boardroom, one of our co-champion associates uses his own laser pointer and points it at my crotch for a few laughs. Now, now, Bobby, let’s not be pointing at my earning potential…Ho ho ho. The meeting is a success and I am congratulated with manly back slaps all around for how nifty and colourful my charts and graphs were. Presentation is the key to holding an audience. Never mind what it means. Business has nothing to do with deeper meanings, but if it looks swell…Meaning is for loser philosophers who drive buses or confused college kids who wear rags and don’t cut their hair. In the action-packed world of business, we don’t have time to figure out what it all means. Only losers and life-drainers do that.
Later on, we receive some representatives from the firm of Grab & Hoard Inc. After a round of manly handshakes, we strut around and puff our chests, mentally judging the quality of each others’ suits, watches, and ties. We immediately establish a business hierarchy according to who can bark the most impressive numbers the loudest, and guess who the alpha male is! I let out a victory hoot and throw over a few tables and chairs. The others tremble in recognition of my suzerainty and masculine power. In doing so, I gain exclusive future shagging rights with one of the sexy Grab & Hoard Inc. assistants. Life is tasty!
Well, it’s time to go home. It’s been a great and productive day! I have no idea what I did exactly, but I know that it was all in the noble duties of doing fantastic business. I’m feeling incredibly virile and invincible. On my way to my car, I for no reason other than to express my happy might and joy in the world, punch a homeless woman in the stomach and away I go. I motor along at 100 miles an hour dodging and weaving in the rush hour traffic. You’ve got to take life by the short and curlies, and only losers wait in traffic jams and lines. I take a quick pull from my in-car scotch bottle to continue my victoriously happy mood. I find it helps my driving as much as it increases my sexual prowess and business acumen. I also need it because today is my wedding anniversary, and my wife will probably expect her yearly moment of intimacy. She is gosh-darn lucky to have such a powerful go-getter like me as a husband! Her sister is lucky, too!
After she makes my dinner, and I regale her with my greatness, I take her off to the boudoir so that I can have my triumphant touchdown. I let out a few victory roars, thump my chest to reiterate my household dominance, and take a quick power nap. Once she is asleep in the guest bedroom, I slip away to cruise the town and invite prostitutes into my vehicle only to grace their lives with my immeasurable charm and leave them back at their standing stations once I have suitably used them for what was required.
Let me leave you with the secret of my success. You’ve got to growl your way to the top, stomp the throats of your rivals, and if you have to sleep with you best friend’s wife and sink him into financial ruin with a few white lies to the IRS, it’s only business. If you work hard like me, you as well can seize the golden testicles of glory! Savour those testicles because you earned them by the sweat of your brow and your shrewd instincts! Feel their firmness, their heavy masculinity in your hands! Nothing tastes so good as success!
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