The office space was jammed between a micro-brewery and shuttered wig store. When Lyle and May first toured the place she had imagined getting hammered on cheap IPA’s and breaking into the wig store to find something suitable for Lyles enormous pumpkin head. Sadly the reality of onboarding their atypical workforce had left little time for boozing or fashion montages
“So, under past work experiences you have : Thief of dreams.”
May spun the resume around to face Karl’s side of the desk, so they could read the offending section.
“Does that seem like a legitimate job to you, Karl? Even figuratively it makes you sound like a shitty high school teacher. But literally, Karl, if I have to explain why we are paying eighty grand to someone who used to…literally, steal dreams…do you think that will be seen as a legitimate expense?” Said May.
Karl glanced at the resume, its red rheumy eyes were impossibly large and made a slucking noise when moving about the socket. Karl was unused to brightly lit rooms and people yelling at it, not because of it. The small tan girl, tattooed and imperious, would not look away.
“I thought this was mostly for internal use, so I figured I would be transparent…and then maybe you’d, like, corporatize the language “ said Karl.
When May agreed to help set up the call centre she understood that Lyle’s special projects would need extra administrative help, but she was finding their selective incompetence, at tasks that they did not want to do, quite challenging.
“Yeah, I’m not your fucking ghost writer, Karl. And even if I was, “Thief of Dreams” is not a job description, it’s a prog-rock band. Break it down into a list of actionable skills and capabilities and I will create a plausible work history around that.” said May.
Karl nodded in compliance. May slid the resume towards it.
“So why don’t you take this back, and if the next one could sound less like a pedophiles suicide note that would be super. ” said May.
Karl grabbed the resume, its hooked claws clattering on the desk, and slunk out of the office. May pressed button one on the intercom.
“Lyle, if you’ve got a minute I’d love to chat.” said May.
There was a long silence before Lyle’s rich baritone replied.
“Is it a right now thing, May? I’m swamped here.” said Lyle.
“Yes it’s a right now fucking thing, Lyle.” said May.
“Go ahead.” Said lyle.
May arranged the notes she’d prepped for this conversation.
“Lyle, what the fuck is Karl?” said May.
Lyle had a couple of false starts before flowing into his patter.
“I get it, Karl and Stewart are non-traditional hires, with backgrounds and appearances that can be jarring, but I think it’s best to focus on what they need to do to get better, not what they are…or what they may have done in the past.” said Lyle.
May wrapped the silver talisman that she’d made around her fist, and bit the inside of her cheek. She would not be swayed by sweet words or Lyle’s pace.
“Stewart is fine. I also don’t know what Stewart is, but I don’t give a fuck, because Stewart can follow basic instructions and doesn’t hide in the breakroom closet… and grab at my ankles when I am making coffee. But I’d like to know who, or what, I am dealing with in regards to Karl.” said May.
Lyle failed to respond. May pushed the issue.
“Lyle, is Karl the fucking boogieman? Or a boogieman?” said May.
Lyle cleared his throat over the intercom and began to dissemble.
“Karl is not male, in the classical sense, but yes some of its behaviour, in a natural setting, might line up with certain elements of that myth”
May drummed her fingers on the solid oak desk. It was the one request that Lyle had fully followed through on.
“Does whatever the fuck Karl is…eat children? Because I am pretty morally flexible, but I do have a line.” said May.
Lyle spoke quickly and comfortingly.
‘Ummm, it’s not unprecedented, but that almost never happens. I mean, it can, but a lot of things would have to go wrong…and that is in a natural setting. These guys we are bringing in are…well, I don’t want to say civilised, but they are city mice. They don’t shit where they live.” said Lyle.
May pressed the talk button hard enough it left an angry red square on her thumb.
“Mice shit all over the place, all of the time, uncontrollably. It’s how people get the fucking Hanta virus. Did you bring me diseased mice, Lyle?”said May, loudly.
“Of course not. They’re like that mouse from the Green Mile: super smart, kind of magical, and loyal to the one that feeds them. Look, I’ll handle them, just sort out the upfront h.r. stuff and you will only be dealing with the regular folks on a daily basis.” Said Lyle.
“Okay, I am rolling with this, for now. But I would appreciate a more detailed heads up on potential problems in the future.” said May.
“Absolutely, May. Completely reasonable. There is another guy I’m talking to tonight…but I think we might be best keeping him in a work from home setup for special projects. But if there is ever need for overlap I’ll bring you into the loop.” said Lyle.
May disconnected the call and paced around her office. Lyle had somewhat lived up to his end of the bargain so she was coping, but if he didn’t hire her a competent, human, admin by the end of the week she would be seeking other opportunities.
***
***
ACT One
Part Ten: Epilogue
Part Nine
Part 8
Part seven
Part Six
Part Five
Part 4
Part Three
Part Two
Part One