and now for something not that different
Dear readers of Eames the Liar, for your entertainment, the incredibly ridiculous epilogue.
This is rated S for Stupid.
Archy enjoys sitting behind a desk, enjoys having subordinates and especially enjoys having a view. Tokyo is a wild city, and not his favorite place in the world, but it’s good to have stability again for the first time in he doesn’t know how long. The main trick is learning Japanese, but most of these people are ridiculously bilingual (at least) already, and more often than not he finds himself treated to his mother tongue.
This is a preferable business, conducting appalling acts of corporate espionage with Cobol and the like, keeping watch over the slow but satisfying dissolution of Robert Fischer’s once great empire, occasionally doing favors for the idiots who got him in this position. Saito is clean and judicial, his works much more elegant than those of Lenny or his ilk could have ever been, and best of all, Saito likes Archy. Archy is tougher and meaner than most of the people he’s ever employed, and he gets shit done in a big damn hurry. Sometimes they have small inter-office competitions that none of the underlings know about, things like who can slap the most inept inferiors in a single work week, etc.
Archy, of course, also runs things like the purchasing of enormous bodies that aren’t ordinarily purchased, like airlines and governments and countries.
Saito knocks on the door today and enters without waiting for a response, because he doesn’t need to.
“Mr. Archibald,” he says genially. “How’s business?”
“Business is booming, sir,” says Archy. “As they say.”
“Very good,” says Saito. “Listen, I’d like to give you your bonus a little early this year.”
“Oh?” Archy can’t say this is bad news.
“Yes-due to its unconventional nature, that it is more the result of a business negotiation than a financial reward, I think now is the appropriate time.”
“Sir?” Archy feels like he should stand up. He does.
Saito hands him a contract, which is beautiful in its incongruous simplicity.
“I am proud to present you with the Most Serene Republic of San Marino,” he says, “whose purchase was just finalized last week.”
Archy accepts the paper with solemnity, maintaining an air of professionalism as always. “Domo arigato,” he replies with a practiced, if slightly imperfect, accent.
Saito just nods and smiles. This is the beginning of a beautiful and incredibly corrupt friendship.
And, because that isn't enough, artistic evidence of the je ne sais quoi of it all, by the comparably ridiculous avalonauggie:
I don't know what else to say.
This is rated S for Stupid.
Archy enjoys sitting behind a desk, enjoys having subordinates and especially enjoys having a view. Tokyo is a wild city, and not his favorite place in the world, but it’s good to have stability again for the first time in he doesn’t know how long. The main trick is learning Japanese, but most of these people are ridiculously bilingual (at least) already, and more often than not he finds himself treated to his mother tongue.
This is a preferable business, conducting appalling acts of corporate espionage with Cobol and the like, keeping watch over the slow but satisfying dissolution of Robert Fischer’s once great empire, occasionally doing favors for the idiots who got him in this position. Saito is clean and judicial, his works much more elegant than those of Lenny or his ilk could have ever been, and best of all, Saito likes Archy. Archy is tougher and meaner than most of the people he’s ever employed, and he gets shit done in a big damn hurry. Sometimes they have small inter-office competitions that none of the underlings know about, things like who can slap the most inept inferiors in a single work week, etc.
Archy, of course, also runs things like the purchasing of enormous bodies that aren’t ordinarily purchased, like airlines and governments and countries.
Saito knocks on the door today and enters without waiting for a response, because he doesn’t need to.
“Mr. Archibald,” he says genially. “How’s business?”
“Business is booming, sir,” says Archy. “As they say.”
“Very good,” says Saito. “Listen, I’d like to give you your bonus a little early this year.”
“Oh?” Archy can’t say this is bad news.
“Yes-due to its unconventional nature, that it is more the result of a business negotiation than a financial reward, I think now is the appropriate time.”
“Sir?” Archy feels like he should stand up. He does.
Saito hands him a contract, which is beautiful in its incongruous simplicity.
“I am proud to present you with the Most Serene Republic of San Marino,” he says, “whose purchase was just finalized last week.”
Archy accepts the paper with solemnity, maintaining an air of professionalism as always. “Domo arigato,” he replies with a practiced, if slightly imperfect, accent.
Saito just nods and smiles. This is the beginning of a beautiful and incredibly corrupt friendship.
And, because that isn't enough, artistic evidence of the je ne sais quoi of it all, by the comparably ridiculous avalonauggie:
I don't know what else to say.