Chapter 1: Horace
Chapter 1: Horace
Horace couldn’t handle life any more.
“And get the f**k out of my sight, you good-for-nothing temp!” the man screamed in his face. The man, in this case, as in, the man. His boss.
It was the final straw. He quickly threw his personal things in a box and promptly emptied his office space.
“Are you gonna just let him talk to you like that?” a female voice said next to him.
He spun around, still shoving things in his box. She was gorgeous, with a perfect neckline that she made sure to show by raising her nose high. “What? Who are you?”
“I’m Superbia. Now, back to our topic. Are you just gonna let him talk to you like that? The boss? He fired you already, didn’t he? Why are you taking it like a p***y?” She twirled a finger in the air, as if pointing at the whole situation.
He leaned on the box. “I’m sorry lady, I haven’t seen you here before. You must be new. If you are, I’m deeply sorry for you but I hope you get more out of this hellhole than I had. Now, as for you calling me a p***y…”
She had full, red lips. She popped them, breathing out and repeating the word, “Pussy.”
“Now look here you-”
“Oh, look, there’s some spine left in you after all. Now point that thing where you should.” She deflected his comeback and pointed a manicured finger at the boss’s office.
Horace had no clue what was happening. What he did know was that the pretty, annoying lady had a point. What was he so afraid of? Getting fired again? Getting yelled at? The boss had terrorised his existence for so long that he might as well be a p***y.
No.
Horace squeezed his fists and stormed into the boss’s office.
He stood up, holding a phone in hand. “Are you still here? Horace Cadmus, since you’re too thick to get this through your skull: You’ve been fired!”
He turned back to the phone, thinking the matter over.
Horace swallowed and stepped forward, then pressed the phone’s button to end the call.
“What are- Horace! That was an important phone call-”
“I want a letter of recommendation from you.” Horace said calmly, and planted his feet.
His former boss chuckled. “A letter of recommendation? I wouldn’t recommend you as a plug to my waste management service. If I told you to stay there and keep the s**t in with your worthless carcass, you’d find a way to spray them all over the place.”
It wasn’t funny. It was just mean, and not even clever, as comebacks went. Horace gritted his teeth and didn’t budge.
“Get the f**k out of my sight before I call security,” the boss waved him away, pressing numbers for a call.
Horace wavered. He was about to leave. He had given his last stand, right?
He saw the pretty blonde sitting on top of his desk, going through his things, chuckling with what she found. He knew exactly what she was laughing about. It was his action figures. They were toys, but Horace liked to keep them around. Especially the female ones.
Horace pressed the button and cancelled his ex-boss’s call again.
He was furious. “Now, you worthless s**t, I’ll kick you out myself!”
“I’m gonna tell people about Evie.”
The boss’s wrath evaporated. He mumbled a few sentences, then hurried and shut the door. “There’s nothing to tell. You’re bluffing.”
“Oh, there is. You see, I’m friends with Evie, and she told me everything. Not that she needed to, I have eyes. I saw your s****l advances. But I have your dickpics here, the ones you sent her.”
The boss went pale. He sat down on his big-boss chair.
Horace swiped his phone and logged into Evie’s Agora account. “I have her password. She won’t mind me doing this, actually, I believe it will lift a weight off of her. There you go, nice and hairy.”
The boss recognised the picture. It was what he saw every day as he looked down and relieved himself.
“Timestamped and everything. Proof of s****l advances during the time she was working here, in which you made her life a living hell. Do I really need to spell out s****l harassment for you? Wait, this is very selfish of me!” Horace tapped his finger on the side of his mouth. “I’m only thinking of myself. Make those two letters of recommendation, one for me, one for Evie. She’s been out of work for two months now, the poor girl has been to fifty interviews already and no luck.”
The boss cleared his throat but otherwise stared, wide-eyed.
Horace leaned forward, propping himself up on the desk by his arms. “I don’t see you writing,” he said, snarling the words.