Isobel Asks The Internet

XXXVII - The Misinformation Campaign

We spread falsehoods in order to prevent an infernal partnership from coming to fruition. Was there more that we could have done?

Hey everyone!

So, the other day I was sat in my office, going over some paperwork for the upcoming soft-launch of a voice-activated water fountain system that we were in the process of installing at various strategic locations throughout the supermarket when I got a call from Marceline. She told me that there was a woman standing at the complaints desk who was insisting on making a complaint. I shouted "ugh" SO loud; usually Britney would be working on the desk, but we had been forced to close it as she had taken some time off to attend her older sister Tiffany's 87th birthday. Unfortunately, Britney is an instrumental component to the everyday running of the store, and I would now have to direct my own invaluable attention towards this particular vexation.

While I was en route to the complaints desk, I spotted the duty manager Trisha, who had just come back from a month-long vegan slam poetry and improv retreat, so I decided to stop to and chat to her before I had to face the customer in question. As we were chatting, I noticed some staff from the homeware department moving some full-length mirrors into a different section of the section (in order to make way for a voice-activated water fountain). I realised that, I could now see the complaints desk and, by extension, a strikingly familiar-looking woman who was waiting besides it through the mirror. I rounded off my conversation with Trisha, before approaching the reflection shown on the glassy surface. To my horror, I begun to realise who the woman at the complaints desk looked like...

... it was RHONDA.

I knew that to approach her outright would be to walk along a precarious path (whilst wearing heels). I debated asking an employee to go and deal with her for me, but if they were to injured by Rhonda then that would be an insurance liability. I would have to face her myself, but in some sort of cunning disguise in order for her to not recognise me.

I knew that I would have to clothe myself in an outfit that, usually, I would not be seen dead in, so I headed to the freezers to pick out something from the DISGUSTING Autumnwear range that we had hidden in there instead of retailing it in our fashion department. I thought that the pumpQUEEN spice latte dress would be a touch too brazen, so I opted instead for a distasteful orange business lady suit with brown polka dots. On my way out of the freezers, I ran into Vix who complimented my new outfit, and I knew that I had made the right choice.

Next, I knew that I would have to change my general appearance. I visited the cosmetics department where an employee named Elke often did demonstrations. I explained the dire situation to Elke, and she agreed to contour my face so as to present a different (and less elegant) bone structure than my own. She made SUCH an amazing suggestion that we should swap name badges. I did warn her that wearing my name badge could place her in the realms of mortal peril should the situation with Rhonda escalate into violence, however she had a radio nearby to her where she could call Nigella for back-up if needed. Anyway, I found a blonde curly wig nearby that I could wear to further obscure my appearance.

My look was almost complete, however I knew that one vital component was missing; footwear. I made my way to the corresponding department to review my options. One thing was for sure, under no circumstances could I be wearing heels. I did, however, see a pair of knee-length, black faux leather boots which looked like they would be satisfactory, so I applied those to my feet. I gave myself one final check in the mirror to ascertain that I looked suitably clownish, and then bustled over to the complaints desk embodying my new persona as Elke.

"Good afternoon madam, my name is Elke and I am the..." I suddenly realised that I could not say that I was the store manager, as that would DESTROY my otherwise impenetrable ruse, so I said that I was the "acting manager who is covering for Isobel while she's at an award ceremony for contributions to the international community". Rhonda looked disgruntled at my pleasant introduction, and told me that she had been waiting for 25 minutes, as if Elke had not been previously made aware of the situation. She then went on to query me as to our selection of garden equipment, and wanted to know if we still stocked the selection of rattan garden furniture that we had premiered at Mavis's funeral.