Scoreboard

 

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Scoreboard

“Let me introduce you to our newest VP of Operations, our very own Justin McKlusky!”

Applause erupted as Justin made his way to the microphone, shaking hands and flashing his award-winning smile as he waved to friends.

No one clapped louder than Rattson.  After all, that was his boy. And he couldn’t have been prouder if it was his own spawn.  Justin was going places, and this was just the beginning. 

Granted, McKlusky was the youngest VP the Titus Corporation had ever seen, but with Rattson by his side, there were endless possibilities.  Wasn’t that Kennedy bloke 43 when he became President and Jobs was only 21 when he started Apple?  Naturally, Rattson would have to let the Leadership determine McKlusky’s new trajectory.  But look at those people out there; they love him. 

Suddenly, Rattson felt a chill over his right shoulder. He turned to see Mussman leaning in.  “Abaddon wants to see you in the Board Room.  Follow me.”

“Abaddon?  Me?  Why?” asked Rattson.    

As Mussman entered the elevator, it hit Rattson.  Of course Abaddon wanted to see him; he just made McKlusky the region’s hottest property.  Maybe we’re both destined for even bigger things.     

During their other worldly descent, he wondered what he should expect.  Sharp fingers of fear started taking hold. What if they want a speech?  

Mussman held the door open to reveal a packed Board Room.

“Come in Rattson, we saved a seat just for you,” said Abaddon smiling.

Rattson sat at the end of the table as every demon turned to face him. 

“The Titus Corporation is on the brink of becoming a major player in the world economy.  And Rattson here was instrumental in getting McKlusky positioned to assume the CEO’s mantle when he retires in a few years,” said Abaddon.

“So let’s look at McKlusky’s credentials, shall we?  He was born a nobody in some backwater town and given a mediocre education.  Yet Rattson steered McKlusky toward people who not only found him a place at Titus but helped him side-step a few rungs on the corporate ladder.  That’s when he hit our radar.  Needing some guidance, we found your Possession the perfect wife to keep him occupied while we could progress with Our Plan.  And then, out of nowhere, he dumps her.” 

“But you always say, ‘No wife leads to workers’ strife,” interrupted Rattson.

“OUR Plan did not include McKlusky, nor his little friend in Ethics, dethroning the two VPs I personally placed there 12 years ago to embezzle the entire R&D budget.  Do you know who has control of the Executive Suite now?” 

Abaddon hits a button and the Scoreboard jumps to life:  Home 6; Enemy 8.  “That’s right, the Enemy, in all his shinning glory!”

“I hate saint lovers,” Krampus says as he snaps off one of Rattson’s horns and begins eating it. 

“Krampus, since McKlusky’s still a babe in the corporate woods, why don’t you take over his Possession?”

“Done,” said Krampus, chewing.   

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