"Boss, we have a problem". He looked up from his newspaper, turned the radio down slightly and stared disapprovingly at the talker. In the doorway stood a man with bulging biceps and beady eyes. His bald head glinting slightly under the fluorescent lighting.
"What is it"? he snapped in reply.
"Your going to want to see this". The Boss rose from the small chair, dropped his paper on the table and followed the large man out of the makeshift office. Outside the door there was a metal staircase leading down to the warehouse floor. The warehouse itself was entirely empty apart from a small huddle of suited men stood around a rather uninterested looking individual. The Boss clunked his way down the metal stairs, crossed the void of the warehouse and broke into the huddle with a sigh.
"So, what's the fucking problem"? The bald man who'd collected the Boss looked at the five men who made up the huddle. His fierce eyes said it all and the huddle dispersed. The bald man and the Boss were left alone with the uninterested looking man. He was sat on a metal chair, tied up. He wore a button down shirt, a fetching blue and white pin stripe, black trouser and a pair of black brogues. On the floor, next to the full brogues, lay a car battery. Attached to the car battery was a dimmer switch with two cables running off, tipped with two small crocodile clips. An empty bucket lay on it's side a little way to the right of the man. He was soaking wet, his shirt undone but still covering him and he was trying to blow his wet hair out of his eyes.
"We have a problem with our usual torture method boss", the bald man huskily replied."What sort of problem", with that the bald man opened the wet mans shirt to reveal two inward pointing nipples.
"See, we can't crocodile clip those. They go in", the bald man stuck his finger into the nipple cup to prove his point.
"So tape them on, where's the fucking problem"?
"We didn't bring any tape", the bald man timidly replied.
"We didn't...".
"I fucking heard you", the Boss cut him off "why wouldn't you bring any tape"?
"We always bring it and never use it".
"Complacency, this is why I wanted us to all go on that training and bonding weekend in Wales", the Boss said, more to himself than anyone else.
"Sorry Boss". They looked at each other, then at the wet man who suddenly seemed interested.
"What about his fingers", the Boss asked.
"They're too fat for the clips".
"I don't have any", the wet man said with a sympathetic shrug. The Boss nodded toward the wet mans balls and frantically moved his eyes between balls and the bald man. The bald man exhaled, interwove his fingers and stretched his hands out in front of him, four of the fingers clicked. The Boss nodded in approval, finger clicking was cool. The bald man looked into the wet mans eyes and apologised for what he was about to do, the wet man curled his mouth up as if to say 'what you gonna do'? The bald mans hand slowly unzipped the wet mans trousers and he pulled them off.
"What do you know, he doesn't have any", the boss said, tilting his head to the side to look at the oddity from a new perspective. "We could crocodile clip his... no it's bigger than his fingers".
"Couldn't even clip the skin", the bald man added "the things tighter than a finely furnished sofa".
"Nicely put", the wet man approved. The Boss turned the bucket over and sat on it. He rubbed his stubbly chin and tried to think.
"I've got it", the bald man said as he placed the crocodile clips onto the mans ears.
"Of course", the Boss said, clapping a hand to his forehead and chuckling slightly "why did you go for the balls first you gay"?
"But... Boss, that was your idea".
"Right", the Boss said rising from the bucket and clapping his hands together "I'm off to finish todays crossword. See what you can get out of this guy then call the adventure training place in Wales, a nice team building trip is just what we need". The gaggle of thugs behind him sighed in unison.
"Sure thing Boss" the bald man said.
"Just one more thing", the Boss shouted when he was halfway up the stairs "twelve letters, starts with M"
"What's the clue", the wet man asked.
"Treat cruelly at the Mall", the Boss said with a shrug.
"Maltreatment", the wet man said, smiling.
"Maltreatment... thanks". The Boss walked back into his office, the word fit perfectly with the letters he already had. He wrote it down and turned the radio up full blast, Electric avenue, he loved that song.
Uploaded 08/30/2011
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