Virgin and Vixen, his assistants placed neatly in the outer offices, replied as programmed: "Yes, sir! Indeed, sir!"
"Isn't this one helluva place to be?" marveled Executive Man. "I mean, how many people would kill to live a life like mine. Ha! Ha! I wonder people I did kill to live this life! Such success!"
"Yes, sir! Indeed, sir!" affirmed voices from the outskirts.
"You gotta believe me, no one could turn down a job like this. Mammoth money. Prestige that cannot be bought. Sitting atop the world like a god. Who could say no?"
A little more faintly: "Yes, sir! Indeed, sir!"
With that, Executive Man shut the door to his office. Every morning was the same: same speech, same affirmation, same sly grin as his soft, white hand clasped the doorknob. Only this time it was followed by a loud bang. Virgin and Vixen rushed in to see the lifeless body and the inevitable smoking gun.
Vixen looked down her nose. “Surprised he lasted this long.”
“I’ll call the janitors,” sighed Virgin.
There were two janitors and both were named Bob. Bob was not happy with the corporate news. “Another fucking dead body. Christ! Why can’t they do this at home? I hate cleaning this shit up. They’re fucking me! They’re fucking me, I tell ya!”
“We gotta do it, Bob,” insisted Bob. We just gotta! Or they’ll get us!”
“Least he didn’t splatter himself all over the concrete like that banking fucker.”
“See, Bob? It’s not so bad. We gotta do it or they’ll get us for sure!”
“Well, I’m tired of them fucking me! I’m gonna shoot a couple of them big shot bastards myself ‘n’ give them a taste of their own medicine!”
“OK, I’ll catch up with ya when I’m done. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Done what?” spied Bob. “You jerking off again??”
“Yeah, but I gotta. I just gotta. I got no choice!”
“Well, do it someplace where I don’t step in the shit this time!”
“I’m using my mop bucket.”
“Good. Then bring it to the top floor where I’ll be. They ain’t fucking me no more!”
Virgin looked up from her desk just in time to see the gun toting janitor steaming down the hallway. “Looks like Bob is going to knock off a couple more.”
Vixen was not be swayed from her punctuality. “Five o’clock! Outta here! Hope one of those perv janitors gets that body buried.”
“They’re not both perverts, “ defended Virgin. “Only one Bob is a pervert, the other is just a killer.”
“Whatever. Bob should feel better after he caps their asses. Lazy pricks waited all day to get started. I just don’t know what this world is coming to!”
Frantically rushing through traffic, Virgin arrived home at the expected time. Her husband and owner would be there already, conducting inspection. She shattered in the face of disapproval.
“Look at the cans! Look at the cans!” barked husband-fuehrer. “Is this what you call alphabetical order? Do you even know the alphabet?”
"Yes, sir! Indeed, sir!"
“I can’t stand chaos! Chaos screws up the world! Do you understand me?”
"Yes, sir! Indeed, sir!"
“Then fix it and get the paddle. And hurry! President Daddy is making a speech tonight! Ich bin ein husband!”
Virgin hastily re-arranged the pantry and retrieved the paddle in a childlike awe. “Reporting for punishment, mein kampf!”
“Now bend your bitch ass over! I’m really turned on!”
“Me too, sir!”
Further chastisement rained down with the swats. “And I hear your daughter is a slut and unhappy in her home. Why is it she jumps on every boner she sees, slut?”
“I can’t imagine why, sir. She knows all her Bible hymns by heart.”
“Did you ever actually think to tell her not to be a slut?”
“Oh, many times, sir! Ouch!”
“Then we’ve done all we can do. Let's go dutifully watch President Daddy's speech now and remember: no criticism!” Behind der husband-fuehrer whispered the sounds of sobbing. “Hey, who’s that crying? There’s no crying allowed here!”
“It’s the angel, sir,” informed Virgin. “She’s watching us again.”
“Well, whose side is that angel on? Why isn’t she looking out for that hussy daughter of yours? Tell that angel to mind her own business or I’ll be fucking her in the ass too!”
“Oh, my God! You’re such a god!”
The angel’s eyes drifted to a daughter with strategically torn jeans, revealing a tight and nubile body that all men craved. She also knew the ways of the paddle and wielded it well in the high school office.
“Bad principal! I saw you checking out my goods. I’d tell you to kiss my ass but I know you want to.”
“God, yes! God, I want your ass!”
“I own you, bitch! And I want you to think about my hot little bod the whole time you’re giving your speech on why you like corporal punishment so much. Pervert!”
“I’m out of control! I ache for those supple, firm breasts and tight, taut legs. Dear Jesus, have mercy. We must have discipline!”
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