Lick Your Neighbor by Chris Genoa

Silas is, or was, a big wig at the company doesn’t mean you can do whatever the hell you want. Why, Hank Ferdue himself put that provision in the handbook. More than anything else on this good green Earth, Hank loved to end his conversations with a kind, heartfelt ‘Best.’”
    Ted got up and walked over to the massive portrait of Hank Ferdue hanging on his office wall. It was the kind of portrait a member of the royal family would commission.
    Ted looked up at Hank Ferdue’s shiny bald head and droopy eyes and made the sign of the cross. “Are you calling Mr. Ferdue, God rest his gorgeous soul, a fucking retard?”
    “I never said that!”
    “You implied it. And what about Hank’s father, William Ferdue?” Ted moved over to the portrait next to Hank’s. “With his regal mustache and fiery eyes. Is he a fucking retard too? And William’s father?” Ted moved on to the third and final portrait on his wall. “The Great John Ferdue, Dale. Founder of the company? Or fucking retard?”
    “All I said was…” Dale trailed off as he stared curiously at the portrait of John Ferdue. He had seen it many times before in Ted’s office, but today it looked different to him.
    “Dale? Something wrong? Your eye is kind of twitching a bit there.”
    “John Ferdue is dead, right?” Dale asked.
    “What the hell kind of question is that? He founded the company in 1903. Yes, he’s dead. Been so since 1949.”
    Dale went over to the painting to get a closer look. “Are you sure? He looks exactly like this guy who was in my bedroom this morning.”
    “What guy?”
    “A farmer. I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy.”
    “I’ve been to John Ferdue’s grave, Dale. I’ve felt the cold earth over his coffin, laid flowers on his tombstone, and traced my fingers over the inscription ‘Life is for the birds.’ The man is dead.”
    Dale looked at the painting again. “It’s definitely him. He threatened to unleash some hellhounds on me.”
    “Great, Dale. That’s just great. So according to you, not only was John Ferdue a retard, he’s also some sort of zombie farmer. Well I’ve heard enough of your vicious slander on the good name of Ferdue.” Ted opened his office door and pointed out. “I want you to go back to your desk, and think about what you’ve done. Think about the people you’ve let down. Your co-workers. Your family. Your country. Your God. Do you even have a God, Dale? Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Just get out of my sight. Hopefully some space and time will help us both heal.”
    When Dale got back to his cubicle there were two brief memos on his desk.
Your work is shoddy and your constant lying is not in line with Ferdue company policy. This is your final warning on this matter.
Pissing on the office plants to save time, while not explicitly against company policy per se, is unacceptable. And disgusting. Stop it.
    Dale also had a new email.
    ____________________
From: Ted Yacker
To: Dale Alden
Subject: FREE CANDY, PIE AND HUGS!!!
 
Dale,
Just kidding about the free candy, pie, and hugs. Just wanted you to read this message ASAP.
Anywho, you’re fired.
Best,
Ted
PS - Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours
    ____________________
From: Dale Alden
To: Ted Yacker
Subject: Re: FREE CANDY, PIE AND HUGS!!!
 
Ted,
Come again?
Best,
Dale
PS - Ditto
    ____________________
From: Ted Yacker
To: Dale Alden
Subject: Re: Re: FREE CANDY, PIE AND HUGS!!!
 
Dale,
See Julie in HR for explanation.
Best,
Ted
PS - Thank you. Give my regards to your wife and son.
    ____________________
From: Dale Alden
To: Ted Yacker
Subject: Re: Re: Re: FREE CANDY, PIE AND HUGS!!!
 
Ted,
I’d rather speak with you if that’s all right. How bout I swing by in 10?
BEST,
Dale
PS - Will do.
    ____________________
From: Julie Smith
To: Dale Alden
Subject: Urgent
 
Dale,
See me immediately.
Best,
Julie
    ____________________
From: Dale Alden
To: Julie Smith
Subject: Re: Urgent
 
Julie,
I’m kind of busy. How about first thing