By R. John Quisenberry
Director Ngoyen looked down on the aborted luncheon with a gleam in his eye. His body had transformed in the most pleasant ways. The stiffness in his knee had almost gone totally by the time he woke up. With newly keen ears, he heard his general manager organize the management team. He would be useful in whipping this sad crew of wastes of flesh into a truly fantastic team! Looking down at the thickening flesh of his hands, he thought to himself, I will make these lazy Americans into warriors! Our division will be special! This change is my path to the CEO’s office! Thinking about these fantasies, he drew down his favorite office decoration. It was a perfect reproduction of an ancient sword from feudal Japan. It was so light in his hands now! Right then and there, he began belting the scabbard in place at his waist. He would take care of the terminations himself!
The whimper of his secretary intruded on Mr. Ngoyen’s reverie. She had become such a submissive, callow thing since lunch. She had brought up a nice spread of food from the steam tables before anything could be overcooked by the clods distributing it. By the time his inferiors got to the food, it was limp and unappetizing. Overcooked swill was fine for them. She had brought herself some as well. After all, serving him should have rewards over and above the glory of his company. He had rested his eyes for a bit. Tired as he was by the great burden of responsibilities, he could be excused for taking a small rest. But Ms. Tien had dozed off as well. He had found it his responsibility to chastise her. He was sure the bruises would not be visible. He had been careful not to visibly mark her throat, but now she knew her place. A warm feeling filled him as he contemplated how he had helped her be a better employee. He knew now that the soft and indulgent way he had been before was wrong. Soon, he would help all of his employees the same as he had helped Ms. Tien…