Chapter 156 - My Little Sister System (Part 1)

Somedays, I can't even remember life before the CEO invasion.

It's like a nice, pleasant dream that you wake up from--the details of which are all still fresh: so profoundly rich, and vivid and real, lingering in your mind like the tune of a happy song, as you go about your morning routine--

And then, suddenly, it's gone. Not just faded, but completely wiped from all memory...

Now, imagine: on top of that, aliens are invading. They take your super hot girlfriend, to convert her into their own form of legal tender. They drag you out of your house, and make you their slave; though, not the "dressed in rags, dragging a ball and chain" variety, toiling away in some mine—as you might be thinking—but rather in a suit and tie, working as an ordinary salaryman in their cold, soulless mega-corporations.

My name is Archie Doolittle, and this is the story behind the Hell my life has become.

...

...

It's dark, with only faint slivers of light streaming in thrrough gaps in the closed blinds. Quiet, save for the soft whirring of the central air conditioning.

I am just waking up from a nap at a desk in a small conference room.

My eyes are stil blurry. I feel like shit.

Last night, I was up way too late drinking.

My head hurts. I think I'm gonna--

Suddenly, just as I'm holding back the urge to puke, the door opens and I see my cubicle mate, Florian, standing in the light of the doorway.

He looks super fuckin' pissed.

"Archie!" He snaps at me in a raised whisper.

"The assessment is today!"

I roll over, turning my back to him with a yawn.

"Eugh! Turn off that stinkin' light..."

"Can't you just let a guy who's lost everything self-medicate in peace?"

He growls. "Quit screwing around, moron!"

"They're coming up to our floor next!"

Greaaaat. Florian is here--at it again, with his constant shrewing...

He's always on my friggin' ass!

I could swear the CEO took all the babes, but aparently not--because I've never met another man who bitches this goddamn much in my entire damn life!

He even looks scrawny, for a supposed man, wears glasses...what a NERD.

"I bet you're actually a girl in disguise."

He's visibly blushing, all cute and flustered--his already shrill voice becoming even higher pitched, as I flimsily attempt to grab at his chest--in search of evidence for my claims.

"ARCHIE! Quiet being a jackass!"

"Eh. Maybe I'm just feeling lonely, and fantasizing..."

"Lonely, and drunk off your goddamn ass!"

Somehow—I don't know exactly how, because I'm totally smashed—but somehow, he manages to coax and half-carry me out of the room and down the hall.

The CEO Corporations, on the inside, appear just like any other generic officespace: Workers are seperated into a hivelike array of cubicles bathed in sterile, fluorescent lighting, with plaster-white walls and bland, grey carpeting.

Instead of there being windows, however, we're provided with a collection of large display monitors, constantly cycling through slideshows of the same twenty or so photographs depicting other CEO buildings--monolothic and grandiose, shiny black rectangular-shaped mega-skyscrapers--set in bizarre, alien landscapes, which I can only assume represent the countless other planets they've encountered.

Our hands are busied with endless piles of paperwork to attend to, concerning the ongoing business dealings of the CEO fucks, both locally and intergalactically. Stuff like trade agreements with the governments of planets far beyond our Solar System, called these...weird ass names--I couldn't pronounce, even if my life depended on it.

Everyone is standing solemnly at their chairs when Florian and I make it back to our cubicles.

We follow suit, albeit I struggle not to slouch.

Jesus...is it hot in here, or just me?

Florian is casting angry eyes at me from beyond the partition.

To which, I mouth back at him: "FUCK OFF."

The elevator doors slide open.

At once, everyone in the room tenses up, as a studly Korean-looking guy with slick hair and a tidy suit strides in, flanked by a pair of hotties in short cheongsams, with pale white faces and red colored cheeks.

Naturally, he's our CEO; and also, he's a CEO.

Which means, although he may look normal, know what's really hiding under that crisp, clean disquise...

And as for the girls...

I think they're ordinary human girls, he brings here solely to flaunt them at us. What a dick!

"G Company!" The CEO says, throwing out his arms and beaming his fraudulent little face off. "It's that exciting time of the month again, when we gear up for a fresh start!"

He pauses--as if expecting us to give a response, or something. We don't.

Meanwhile, I'm staring at one of the girls he brought with him. She's staring back at me, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes--totally giving me the bedroom eyes.

The CEO proceeds to stride down the aisle in front of the cubicles, giving a speech:

"G company has always been an...underdog."

He chuckles, showing his sparkly teeth.

"I was pleased, enough, by the fact that we didn't have to use the furnace even once in last month's assessment!"

The girl blows a kiss at me with her palm.

Winking, I am on the verge of sending her one back in return--but just then, the pacing CEO happens to be crossing her path, casting me an inquisitive glare, so I quickly stop.

Whew. I don't think he saw me.

My relief is only short-lived, however, as the girl I was just making faces with...

Whispers into his ear, pointing a finger at me!

He turns, meeting my gaze--and that's when I know I'm totally screwed.

Breathing deeply, I stand as straight and tall as I can manage through my intoxicated delirium, as he approaches my cubicle--sizing me up with what I would call a "shit-eating grin." I'm a pretty tall guy, so the top of his head only reaches up to my chest.

"Mr. Doolittle." He says, pausing to sniff at the air--screwing up his face.

"Oof! I can smell that you've been drinking."

"Yessir." I grumble in reply. "That'll be a demerit, I know."

"You've always been quite the character, haven't you?" He sharply retorts, with a not so subtle hint of agitation. "Somehow always staying one step ahead of a trip to the furnace."

I give a stiff nod, resisting a growing urge to crack up--because he's right.

There really is a method to my madness.

I keep track of my demerits, adjusting my rebellious behaviors accordingly so that I never risk punishment--beating them using their own bullshit system, in essence.

The CEO shifts his attention from me, toward my cubicle wall.

I watch, drawing back with baited breath.

There's something I have posted on my wall he must never touch.

"Ah, who is this in the photograph?"

He plucks a single, polaroid photograph from my wall, showing it to me: A head shot of a young woman, with wispy blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, wearing an ugly green sweater. The photo was taken at a restaurant, as she's staring dreamily at the photographer with a saucy spaghetti noodle drooping out of her puckered lips.

"Millicent." I answer softly, as beads of warm sweat are pouring down my face.

"She...was...my fiancee."

"I see, I see."

He sets the photograph on the table.

"A hundred dollars."

I glance at him warily. "What?"

He sits on top of my desk, maintaining that cheap, friendly allure.

"When we convert your species' women into currency, it's decided according to their appearance." He explains, matter-of-factly, as if he's teaching me about cloud cycles. "A more attractive woman is worth more."

"My estimated value for your woman IS, when adjusted to local currency..."

His eyes bear a sinister glean, not seen prior.

"A hundred dollars..."

"Just going by the face alone."

Something snaps inside me, and I lose all reason.

My reaction is immediate--

I rear my fist, and I clock the bastard across his face--

His lifeless robotic head detaches from the shoulders, through the amazing force of my gargantuan power--sent flying across the room, as my co-workers cheer--

The two babes in cheongsams flock to my side, breaking out in vapid giggles.

Having defeated the CEO: they're MINE now.

Florian steps forward, opening his shirt to reveal an impossibly large pair of--

"She's quite beautiful. I'm sure you miss her."

I am brought back to reality.

The CEO is still standing. Still owning a head. Still insulting my kidnapped fiancee.

I look him over, contemplating my response.

...then, I sock him in the jaw.

He falls back, knocked unconscious by the blow, and everyone is freaking out.

Did I...actually just do that?

There isn't a moment to spare, so I run like Hell while those traitorous trophy girls the CEO bastard brought with him were still busy screaming, and Florian is just sweating there—looking like he is about to have a goddamn heart attack.

Man, I'm so fucked now, but it sure felt good...

I sure hope I can live lone enough to find the last woman on Earth to have grandkids with, so I can tell them all about it!