Gordon walked in the room casually. He knew that he was late, but then again, he didn’t really cared. He was Baxters right hand man, and Baxter was running the place. This made him a big deal. Also, nothing new was supposed to happen today. Just another day to kill. He was wearing yesterdays clothes, last weeks beard and last nights breath. His head was just one size smaller than it should have been. At least, that’s the way he was feeling. “Man, I should have not drunk the entire bottle…” he said to himself. He managed to get hold of a bottle of Solomons stuff. Nobody knew from where the man was getting his merchandise, but there was not much else to chose from. And last night Gordon was in the mood to kill some brain cells. So he went out to his favorite spot, sat down and started drinking. Now, he was paying the tax for it. But, it was nothing new to him. Certainly wasn’t his first time being hung over at work. As he walks by the desks, some people look up by the corner of their eyes, but they all know the drill, they do not say a word. Not that they would care to. Gordon opens the door to his small office, sits down behind the desk, puts his feet up the desk with his left over the right and tries to not to feel his head.
“Man, you look like shit.” Baxter is standing in the doorway. “I’m surprised that you are even vertical this early. Was it worth it?”
“mmm…. best entertainment in town…”
“Yeah… about a bottles worth….”
“ What, are you trying to off yourself? What’s in that stuff anyway?”
“Fuck if I know, but it knocks you out like a fucking train. Why, you worried?”
“Neah…. But if you do decide to leave this merry place, do me a favor and give me a heads up, will ya?”
“Deal…. So, is there something on today’s agenda or can I hit snooze for the day?”
“Donno, you tell me. A ship should come in this morning, the Bad Seed.”
“Ah yeah. Is that today? Forgot about that. The Bad Seed… now that’s name you look forward to. Hey, Toby!”
“….downstairs” answers somebody.
“Of course he is” mumbles Gordon as he picks up the phone and dials in a number. “Yeah, give me the turtle… Toby? There is a boat on today schedule, the Bad… ship, boat, like I care whats the difference… just get your ass up here and give us the rundown of it, OK?. And Toby? Make it sharpish.”
Ten minutes later Toby walks in the room reluctantly. He really does not wants to be there, but that is all right, the other two men don’t want him there either. So this will be fast.
“So? The Bad Seed?” asks Gordon somewhat impatiently.
“The Bad Seed. Ship. Brings regular supplies. Food, medical supplies, some spare parts, couple of guys for grunt work.”
“So nothing unusual” concludes Baxter.
“No, nothing unusual. Except for the other guy”
“What other guy?” asks Gordon, while he sits up straight.
“Some guy named Gruber. His name was not on the supply list but on additional note later on.”
“An additional note for somebody they sending over. Hm… That’s actually is somewhat unusual, wouldn’t you say Toby? Let me see that note.”
Toby hands over the paper to Gordon. As he starts reading it, Gordon seems to have difficulty comprehending some part of the text at first, but as he reads it again and again he just gets madder and madder.
“Toby, why haven’t you said anything about this before, huh?”
“You haven’t asked.”
Gordon is ready to jump over the table straight to the boys neck, his face is displaying multiple shades of red and purple. Baxter finds this scene both funny as hell and worrisome. But for the time being, it is the best show in town, so he just takes a step back and enjoys spectacle.
“You idiot! I swear to fucking God, I could kill you right now! I couldn’t care less that a frigging boat, or SHIP, comes with supplies. I don’t have to ask you about that. But when you get a paper like this, you don’t just sit on it! I can’t ask you about them because I don’t know that they will come, now do I? You come to me and tell me about them! Do you understand me you fucking moron?”
Toby nodded his head.
“Now get the fuck out oh here! And how many times do I have to tell you not to wear that fucking pod everywhere on your back. Put it the fuck down. Makes you look like an idiot. Not that your not.”
Gordon could have yelled a good ten minutes more if his head wouldn’t have hurt already like hell without this. Toby dragged his feet out of his office and disappeared somewhere. Gordon sat back behind his desk and started searching around in a drawer until he found a bottle of pills. He popped the bottle open and swallowed quickly two of them pills. Baxter was still watching, but his curiosity started to get the best of him.
“You know, you really should talk to some of the grunts. They could teach that snot a lesson or two.”
“Neah, already tried that. For some reason, they don’t want to touch him. Like he has the plague or something.”
“Don’t tell me now that somebody has this pussy’s back. He sure in hell can’t defend himself.”
“I don’t know and I don’t want to take the effort to find out. Eventually, I am going to beat the living shit out the turtle myself. Don’t care if somebody has his back or not. His ass is grass and I’m the lawn mower. “
“Good man.” said Baxter amused. “Now tell me, what gives?”
“You are not going to believe it. This Gruber character is to be our new warehouse manager. He is going to be in charge of our entire inventory. Everything that is on storage will go trough his hands.”
“You are absolutely right Gordon. I don’t believe you.”
“Well, here. Read it yourself.”
Baxter took the paper. But there it was, black on white. The new guy was there to stay and he was management material.
“What do you make of this?” asked Gordon.
“Must be some hothead that screwed himself royally. Like challenging some heavy name on the open. Otherwise it just doesn’t make sense to create a high level job here that isn’t even needed. Did we ever had a warehouse manager?”
“No, never. No need for one. If you put something there, you are in charge of it. Worked just fine until now. You know what this means, don’t you? Headaches.”
“Might be. A lot of people will be angry over this. We just might have to earn our keep for a change. Go out, meet this Gruber fellow. Size him up. Oh, and do me a favor. If you happen to run into Solomon, tell him that I would like a couple of pairs of his sausages.