The Sweet Release of Death

The Secret Plot of Junior & The Golden Boy

05/26/2010 12:53 PM Filed in:The Douche Chronicles

Two glasses. That’s what it took to “kill the pain” or “take the edge off” (insert favorite alcoholic excuse here) to rid myself of the filth of the douche maneuvers that were carried out on Monday at Corporate Land. I wasn’t drinking to forget, oh no way Jose. I was drinking to calm myself down so I could write this post for you all. I figure if I keep this up, I’ll be asking for donations from you to help pay for my impending liver transplant. What sent me to the saving graces of my beloved Merlot? A douche maneuver so sleazy, it would make Massengill stand up and take notice. You see, there’s a co-worker of mine, a sassy little spitfire that sits outside my darkened hovel of despair, she handles a minutia of paperwork for one of our large corporate clients. It’s a thankless, grueling and on more days that I’d like to admit, a suicidal thought-inducing exercise of futility. Like I mentioned previously, That Girl is a spitfire. And with that being said, she calls it like she sees it. She suffers no fools and God bless her for it!

Well, a few months ago, a son of one of Corporate Lands execs, came into the cold, evil fold. Junior was placed right next to That Girl to be teamed up on the corporate account, and there lay the failure of the US collegiate educational system. Apparently Junior wasn’t taught how to deal with assertive women, instead, he relied heavily on the patented frat house response of “fucking bitch!” when let down or cornered by a dominant female. To say that sparks flew and love was in the air when these two collaborated was akin to saying that Nancy Kerrigan really digs Tonya Harding. Oh, don’t get me wrong; there was plenty of emotion flowing in the 16-square foot Cage of Cubicle Disdain. One emotion that was as constant as a Lady Gaga wardrobe change was desire. The desire pent up in That Girl to plunge a dull ruler into Junior’s neck repeatedly in a Seattle’s Best Coffee fueled murder spasm.

Eventually Junior couldn’t handle That Girl’s logic anymore and requested a sitting with The Golden Boy to go over his frustrations with That Girl. Golden Boy (One of Douchedom’s elite soldiers) was all ears for Junior and set about planning and scheming for Operation Coddle. Their mission: replace That Girl. Covert interviews were conducted in a remote meeting room deep in the bowels of Corporate Land, unbeknownst to That Girl. As secret and sleazy as these meetings were, they were not secret enough, and That Girl’s front-office operatives caught a whiff of the douchey exploits of Junior and the Golden Boy.

Now as the partners-in-douche were going about their evil, passive aggressive ways, That Girl was also planning and scheming her own devilish mission. Her motive was pure. Its deliverance, liberating. That Girl was securing financial backing for Operation Get The Fuck Out of Here! Luckily, the Gods of High Finance and Higher Learning had granted her a green light to her mission just as her front operatives picked up the scent of douchyness. She will beat them to the punch. Come Monday, That Girl delivered her two-sentence “fuck you I’m out of here, sucks to be you.” resignation letter, exposing the douchy exploits of Massengill’s finest backstabbing sleazoids.

A smile now resides where a frown once was. The tears have dried and the spring has returned to her step. I’ll miss That Girl…yes indeed. Maybe she’ll send me racy and totally inappropriate photos of her having fun in Collegeville. One can hope. And what of Golden Boy and Junior? Their homoerotic frolicking continues on, poisoning the office with their bitter vinegar stench. Character… you either have it or you don’t. One thing is for certain, its not made by Massengill.

Tags: Douche, Massengill, Merlot, That Girl, Lady Gaga,