Giant Solidarity G/T

Chapter XLVI. Human Experience

*After this shorter entry, one more full chapter, then the epilogue! Home stretch!*

Mr. Rhitta sent an HR rep to my cubicle later that morning to brief me on my promotion. I was still expected to finish out the week at my current paygrade, but starting the following Monday, I would be on payroll at Senior Humorist Copyeditor. Some jargon to do with how long the "onboarding process" took, but that was fine with me. More time to liquidate my belongings, since I'd be moving from my constricted cubicle to a commodious office one floor up, which had been getting dusty for eight months. They gave me the key to the carpeted office, and it was twice the size of my bedroom. Crystal and Harley would not stop congratulating me all through our lunch. It was over our meal break at noon, that I discussed my mischievous plan with Harley, and his human girlfriend with whom he shared his manicotti.

         "I call it Operation Downsize," I told them, while we were huddled around Harley's cubicle.

         "I approve!" chirped Crystal, wiping tomato sauce from her face, sitting beside Harley's stapler. "Do it! Just let me watch, please!"

         Initially, Harley was more skeptical. "Look guys, I dislike Petra as much as you, but isn't that a bit too far?" He licked his plastic fork clean of cheese, appearing unsure. "She got fired, isn't that enough?"

         "Well you tell us Harley," said Crystal, austerely. She stood with her hands on her hips, and ironically stared down her boyfriend, while looking up at him with a challenging expression, as if he'd forgotten when their anniversary was. "Is being fired enough punishment for the crime of locking your girlfriend in a ferret cage, and forcing her mouth shut with a paperclip?!"

         "Okay, I gotcha," said Harley, raising his hands in defeat. Hilariously, he appeared almost fearful of the tiny woman's wrath. Who wouldn't though? He nodded, saying "I'm in."

         We took the latter half of our lunch hour to pay Petra a visit. Two janitors walked out of her old office, each carrying a large cardboard box as we approached. With relish, I saw they'd already removed her nameplate from the frosted glass on the editor's office door. Already, she was about three-quarters moved out. As we entered, she was tossing personal effects into another box, clearing off her old desk. I felt vindictively victorious seeing all the imprints in the carpeting from removed objects and dusty outlines of picture frames and posters from the wall.

         Our former boss scoffed, as she turned around and saw us entering. "For the love of Thor, what're you two... three, doing here? Come to gloat?" She turned her back, seizing her ill-gotten Continental Journalism award off the bookshelf and dropping it in her box atop some manilla envelopes and reference books.

         "Gloating isn't really my style, Petra," I said, shaking my head, dropping Crystal on my shoulder for a high vantage point. "We just came to say goodbye."

         "Sure, you did," snarled the hateful giantess, drinking from a tumbler of brandy on her near spotless desk. A decorative decanter containing the same brandy was visible in a box beside her desk.

         "Drinking at the office, Petra?" asked Harley, after she resumed packing. He picked up the glass and sniffed it.

         "What the fuck have I got to lose now?" she snapped, slamming a stack of binders onto the desk. "Cut to the chase. What do you want."

         "We were just wondering who our new boss is gonna be," I added, fully enjoying salting her wounds.

         Immediately her hands trembled in anger at my question. "You know who the Assistant Editor is... was. Amanda's taking over this office when she gets back from vacation."