A weekly occurrence of a dramatic nature
This is late. I need to do better.
Although I like the play itself. But schedules must be kept, or bitchslaps must be bestowed.
Mr. Astoria - I deal with a lot of people who hate me. Company functions, press releases, I get all sorts of questions about our business practices. Why's employee pay so low. Who do I get 300 mil a year. Do we use sweatshops. How can we sleep at night. My answer is always the same. Do you have shoes? Yes? Did they cost an arm and a leg? No? So shut the fuck up. It takes a well-run business, with leaders paid what they deserve, to bring you inexpensive goods and if you're going to complain about it then try to do it yourself. And go barefoot until you turn a profit.
I'm surrounded, too, by people, also wearing shoes, who want to undermine me. My assistant Bill is the one who keeps inviting journalists to our press conferences. Lamont, my shit-eating VP, thinks he should have my job and doesn't care if he kills the company to get it. Ed Hunt, the Fed official who monitors my company, keeps raising his rates. And when my wife hears that the company's made fifty billion dollars, she wonders why she doesn't get twenty-five. No, not wonders. Nags and complains. Whines and guilt trips and never gives me a moment's piece of ass.
Well I didn't claw my way to the top of the food chain to get eaten by a bitch and a pack of weasels. The American people are counting on me for footwear, thousands of Indonesian children are counting on me for jobs, and I'm counting on me for millions of dollars. No, when they all arrive for dinner this evening, they'll all find the shoe on the other foot.
Mrs. Astoria - I don't think I ask for a lot. I just think that I ought to be rewarded for the contributions I that I make to the world. And what I give the world is hope. People around the world need something to relieve the constant drudgery of the working world. Something to wish for, even if it's a star they'll never reach. And, really, that's what I am. I'm beautiful, I'm young, I don't have to work at all, and my husband makes millions of dollars. It's a wonderful life.
Of course, don't tell anyone, but it's not really perfect. The problem is my husband. He just takes his work so seriously and he never stops thinking about it. I mean you'd think that if you had a house with fifty rooms and a pool you might at least look at all of them, or even spend some time in more than two. No, it's all work. More work to earn more money to just sit on while you work even harder, not sharing hardly any with your wife. And not working out, either, which you could really stand to do. I look good for him, after all.
The money's all lost on him. Money is supposed to be enjoyed. That's what drives our economy and makes our nation great, is greed. But not just greed. Lust for life. Lust for your wife when you get home from work at midnight doesn't cut it. Life and money are meant for the people who enjoy them every second of the day, who use them to the fullest, who live for the moment and never invest. I do that. And my husband doesn't. So, really, I don't deserve a mere half, cause he'd never use his half. I deserve it all.
Lamont - I believe that prejudice is the greatest obstacle to progress that the world has ever seen. We should open our eyes to the truth, see the talent and potential of those around us, but instead we blind ourselves, continuing to do things the way we always have, never daring to think of change.
Sadly, perhaps the best example of this is my boss. He's been CEO for fourteen years, and he acts like he'll stay there forever. Not that he didn't do a good job when he started. But that's a while back, and he needs to understand succession. The CEO isn't the only person in the company. There are VPs and board members, too. I've been doing my best to help him understand, of course, but he's getting slower as he gets older.
When I took over athletic shoes I had to overhaul the whole department, because it was a dinosaur. I swear, they'd hardly started using bronze tools when I started. Change was necessary. But what do you suppose the old Cro-Magnon Executive Officer does the instant we have a minuscule drop in sales? Kicks me off the project. He gets it into his head that I'm after his job and rather than let the times change he tries to stop me.
But you're too late, old man. We've put up with the musty loafers of your leadership for too long. Tonight the winds of change begin to blow. And they'll knock you off your feet, old man.
Ed - The government regulates a lot of things. Businesses, ecosystems, people. They all work the same way. There's a balance to maintain. It's delicate, and it's always changing, but it's vital. I keep the balance because it's good for everyone. I keep corporations going, but I keep them in check. It's like an engine. You need to drive it but you need to keep the combustion on the inside. We use oil to keep it running smoothly, which makes things messier, but keeps them going.
And that's precisely what a bribe is. It's the oil of the economy. You see corporations will do whatever they have a mind to do unless something stops them. Laws and rules try, but companies can flow around them. They can't flow around me. They will always pay a small fine to save a huge pile of money, and the fines are all small. I can charge enough to dissuade them.
Unfortunately, they're getting harder and harder to dissuade. Before long I'll be taking a bigger risk than them. And they know it, or at least the CEO does. Either he really likes breaking the law or he's trying to throw me off. And that won't do, either one.
Sometimes you can't fix the engine. Or you outgrow the shoe. No use crying about it, you just have to ditch the old and bring in the new. Because the balance of the system is more important than one person. Or four.
Hit Man - I believe that what I do is an important service. There are a lot of jobs out there that most people won't do because they're squeamish. Garbage man. Sausage maker. Brain surgeon. But these things need to be done professionally. Otherwise we'd all be dirty idiots. Without any sausage.
Take the Astorias, for instance. Mr. David G. Astoria III is convinced that his wife is demanding, spoiled, uppity, and too old. Mrs. Constance Astoria, meanwhile, is certain that her husband is stingy, selfish, consumed by his work, and too old. They hate each other, but they could both lose a lot of money by getting divorced. And yet if they keep on going the way they're going, they'll try to kill each other, and that could be awfully messy.
I keep things clean. Lamont Eccleston wants to bump off his boss, Ed Hunt wants to off the higher-ups before they rat him out for bribery, and Mr. Astoria wants to silence them both. I can tie up all of these loose ends with an elegant knot. Admittedly, I'm going to kill all of the people who hired me. But they paid in advance, and that's bad business.
Yeah, nobody likes to watch sausage being made. They prefer to just enjoy the result and not think about the grisly process. But if you don't watch it being made, you don't really know what you're eating, do you?
Bill - Mr. Astoria asked that I come to another dinner event. And by asked, I mean demanded even more intently than usual. Come listen to his circle talk about how important they all are, how much they contribute to the economy, how the media all hates them even though they all do Murdoch's dinner on Thursdays. Every tongue sharp enough to cut flesh, every heart hard enough to cut diamond, all of them so well-heeled you want to put a boot up their asses.
I was halfway there when I let myself admit how much I hate them. I mean, that it wasn't just boss complaining but real honest disgust. I mean, they talk about helping others, helping the economy, but it's all about them. They talk about shareholders cause they have stock options. They cut costs and pocket the difference, saying we need to pay them enough to keep them, like we want to.
Not a one of them has ever actually worn our shores. You can say they're doing good for everyone, fueling the economy, maybe, but I can't live for distant people I'll never see anymore. Especially when it means eating dinner with those windbags. I've gotta live for the people around me, the people I love. And I've gotta live for myself. So I'm going home. I hope they enjoy their dinner without me because, really, they deserve each other.
Although I like the play itself. But schedules must be kept, or bitchslaps must be bestowed.
Mr. Astoria - I deal with a lot of people who hate me. Company functions, press releases, I get all sorts of questions about our business practices. Why's employee pay so low. Who do I get 300 mil a year. Do we use sweatshops. How can we sleep at night. My answer is always the same. Do you have shoes? Yes? Did they cost an arm and a leg? No? So shut the fuck up. It takes a well-run business, with leaders paid what they deserve, to bring you inexpensive goods and if you're going to complain about it then try to do it yourself. And go barefoot until you turn a profit.
I'm surrounded, too, by people, also wearing shoes, who want to undermine me. My assistant Bill is the one who keeps inviting journalists to our press conferences. Lamont, my shit-eating VP, thinks he should have my job and doesn't care if he kills the company to get it. Ed Hunt, the Fed official who monitors my company, keeps raising his rates. And when my wife hears that the company's made fifty billion dollars, she wonders why she doesn't get twenty-five. No, not wonders. Nags and complains. Whines and guilt trips and never gives me a moment's piece of ass.
Well I didn't claw my way to the top of the food chain to get eaten by a bitch and a pack of weasels. The American people are counting on me for footwear, thousands of Indonesian children are counting on me for jobs, and I'm counting on me for millions of dollars. No, when they all arrive for dinner this evening, they'll all find the shoe on the other foot.
Mrs. Astoria - I don't think I ask for a lot. I just think that I ought to be rewarded for the contributions I that I make to the world. And what I give the world is hope. People around the world need something to relieve the constant drudgery of the working world. Something to wish for, even if it's a star they'll never reach. And, really, that's what I am. I'm beautiful, I'm young, I don't have to work at all, and my husband makes millions of dollars. It's a wonderful life.
Of course, don't tell anyone, but it's not really perfect. The problem is my husband. He just takes his work so seriously and he never stops thinking about it. I mean you'd think that if you had a house with fifty rooms and a pool you might at least look at all of them, or even spend some time in more than two. No, it's all work. More work to earn more money to just sit on while you work even harder, not sharing hardly any with your wife. And not working out, either, which you could really stand to do. I look good for him, after all.
The money's all lost on him. Money is supposed to be enjoyed. That's what drives our economy and makes our nation great, is greed. But not just greed. Lust for life. Lust for your wife when you get home from work at midnight doesn't cut it. Life and money are meant for the people who enjoy them every second of the day, who use them to the fullest, who live for the moment and never invest. I do that. And my husband doesn't. So, really, I don't deserve a mere half, cause he'd never use his half. I deserve it all.
Lamont - I believe that prejudice is the greatest obstacle to progress that the world has ever seen. We should open our eyes to the truth, see the talent and potential of those around us, but instead we blind ourselves, continuing to do things the way we always have, never daring to think of change.
Sadly, perhaps the best example of this is my boss. He's been CEO for fourteen years, and he acts like he'll stay there forever. Not that he didn't do a good job when he started. But that's a while back, and he needs to understand succession. The CEO isn't the only person in the company. There are VPs and board members, too. I've been doing my best to help him understand, of course, but he's getting slower as he gets older.
When I took over athletic shoes I had to overhaul the whole department, because it was a dinosaur. I swear, they'd hardly started using bronze tools when I started. Change was necessary. But what do you suppose the old Cro-Magnon Executive Officer does the instant we have a minuscule drop in sales? Kicks me off the project. He gets it into his head that I'm after his job and rather than let the times change he tries to stop me.
But you're too late, old man. We've put up with the musty loafers of your leadership for too long. Tonight the winds of change begin to blow. And they'll knock you off your feet, old man.
Ed - The government regulates a lot of things. Businesses, ecosystems, people. They all work the same way. There's a balance to maintain. It's delicate, and it's always changing, but it's vital. I keep the balance because it's good for everyone. I keep corporations going, but I keep them in check. It's like an engine. You need to drive it but you need to keep the combustion on the inside. We use oil to keep it running smoothly, which makes things messier, but keeps them going.
And that's precisely what a bribe is. It's the oil of the economy. You see corporations will do whatever they have a mind to do unless something stops them. Laws and rules try, but companies can flow around them. They can't flow around me. They will always pay a small fine to save a huge pile of money, and the fines are all small. I can charge enough to dissuade them.
Unfortunately, they're getting harder and harder to dissuade. Before long I'll be taking a bigger risk than them. And they know it, or at least the CEO does. Either he really likes breaking the law or he's trying to throw me off. And that won't do, either one.
Sometimes you can't fix the engine. Or you outgrow the shoe. No use crying about it, you just have to ditch the old and bring in the new. Because the balance of the system is more important than one person. Or four.
Hit Man - I believe that what I do is an important service. There are a lot of jobs out there that most people won't do because they're squeamish. Garbage man. Sausage maker. Brain surgeon. But these things need to be done professionally. Otherwise we'd all be dirty idiots. Without any sausage.
Take the Astorias, for instance. Mr. David G. Astoria III is convinced that his wife is demanding, spoiled, uppity, and too old. Mrs. Constance Astoria, meanwhile, is certain that her husband is stingy, selfish, consumed by his work, and too old. They hate each other, but they could both lose a lot of money by getting divorced. And yet if they keep on going the way they're going, they'll try to kill each other, and that could be awfully messy.
I keep things clean. Lamont Eccleston wants to bump off his boss, Ed Hunt wants to off the higher-ups before they rat him out for bribery, and Mr. Astoria wants to silence them both. I can tie up all of these loose ends with an elegant knot. Admittedly, I'm going to kill all of the people who hired me. But they paid in advance, and that's bad business.
Yeah, nobody likes to watch sausage being made. They prefer to just enjoy the result and not think about the grisly process. But if you don't watch it being made, you don't really know what you're eating, do you?
Bill - Mr. Astoria asked that I come to another dinner event. And by asked, I mean demanded even more intently than usual. Come listen to his circle talk about how important they all are, how much they contribute to the economy, how the media all hates them even though they all do Murdoch's dinner on Thursdays. Every tongue sharp enough to cut flesh, every heart hard enough to cut diamond, all of them so well-heeled you want to put a boot up their asses.
I was halfway there when I let myself admit how much I hate them. I mean, that it wasn't just boss complaining but real honest disgust. I mean, they talk about helping others, helping the economy, but it's all about them. They talk about shareholders cause they have stock options. They cut costs and pocket the difference, saying we need to pay them enough to keep them, like we want to.
Not a one of them has ever actually worn our shores. You can say they're doing good for everyone, fueling the economy, maybe, but I can't live for distant people I'll never see anymore. Especially when it means eating dinner with those windbags. I've gotta live for the people around me, the people I love. And I've gotta live for myself. So I'm going home. I hope they enjoy their dinner without me because, really, they deserve each other.