Humancorp Incorporated Page 26

  Sean cringed.

  “Okay, never mind,” Conroy said, rolling his eyes. “Let me put it another way. You’re probably familiar with the libertarian ideal of a hero capitalist - the person who pursues a vision with personal drive and genius and takes risks to build up a corporate empire - the Rockefellers, or the Carnegies or the Steve Jobses, or the Elon Musks.”

  “I know those people,” Sean said with excitement. “Their names are on buildings!”

  “Yeah, some of them,” agreed Conroy. “Do you think this is what they want?”

  He gestured his hand towards the Humancorp Incorporated complex.

  “A company that makes everything and milks its employees for every hour and dime so the CEO can buy another private zeppelin? No. Of course not. This isn’t what I wanted either. When Arnie and I were a young man and a young donkey, camped under a bridge and selling off our organs for firewood, we wanted to be rich. Who doesn’t? But more than that, we wanted to build a company that would change the world - that would build the better fake edible poker chip, or suicide pill, or turbodonkey. That’s the kind of spirit that led me to invent the technology to produce people - not because I wanted to exploit them, but because I wanted to push the boundaries of progress forward.”

  Sean scratched his head.

  “What’s your point?” he asked in confusion.

  “Let me put it yet another way. Why do we put up with men like Richard Dinero?”

  “You mean drug-addled jerks?” asked Sean.

  “Yes, billionaires,” said Conroy. “People who have more wealth than they possibly need while others starve and despair, and who exploited the starving and despairing to get it. Why do we, as a society, again, put up with them? It’s because we trust that they will do something useful with their money. We believe that they’ll build the better mousetrap, or the cheaper lightbulb, or create charities, or dig a batcave and put on a stupid costume and fight crime. We don’t do it so they can do what Richard Dinero did, and use their vast wealth to try to organize society to serve themselves.”

  Sean continued to stare blankly at Conroy.

  “You still don’t get it, do you?” Conroy complained.

  “Sorry,” Sean said sheepishly. “I had my brain shocked twice today and I’m still feeling a little off balance.”

  Arnie snorted and stamped his hoof.

  “Arnie says, ‘And I’m a donkey, but you don’t hear me complaining about it,’” interpreted Conroy. “The point is this, Sean. Money is great! I love money. But if you let someone like Dinero, who only cares about money, take over, he’s going to enrich himself at the expense of everyone else. Innovation and all the things that actually push humanity forward are hard. Lying, cheating, stealing, politicking, and bribing your way to ever greater wealth are way, way easier, and if you let morally bankrupt Dinero start to make decisions, society will in its turn end up fiscally bankrupt, for his benefit alone. This is a cautionary tale. I’m telling you this, because now you are the CEO of Humancorp Incorporated. Don’t be like Richard Dinero, the man who thought life was cheap and you personally weren’t valuable enough to stick your finger up his frog’s butt.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do,” Sean said cheerily. “I’ll work everyone to death for my own benefit if I want.”

  Conroy shrugged his shoulders.

  “Suit yourself,” he said. “At least I tried. Note that we will hang you from a lamppost as a dictator if you don’t do as I say, though.”

  “On the other hand, you make some very compelling points,” said Sean. “You’re right! I’ll treat everyone with respect and dignity from here on out, at least until I figure out some way to give orders from where you can’t get me.”

  “Close enough,” Conroy said.

  The ride on the donkey cart ended, and Sean hopped out.

  “Well, I’m off,” said Conroy.

  “Wait, before you go, tell me something,” Sean said. “How are humans made?”

  Conroy broke into a small smile.

  “It’s just like Dinero told you,” said Conroy. “We make them with robots. We could never entrust humans with something so important.”

  Conroy touched his finger to his forehead, as if tipping an invisible hat, and Arnie pawed the ground. Then, there was a bright flash of blue light and cart, driver, and donkey all disappeared, leaving Sean standing alone outside of the front doors of the corporation that he now commanded.

  Sean looked out over the grassy lawn for a minute or two, then turned and trudged indoors.

  Epilogue

  Sean rode the elevator up to what was now his office.

  “I have delivered you to your chambers, oh benevolent and merciful master,” the elevator voice said in supplication.

  Walking into his office, Sean spotted Candace, who was scribbling furiously at her desk with a pronounced scowl on her face. Her scowl deepened when she saw him.

  “I’ve finished calculating your net wealth, Mr. Woods,” she said, thrusting a piece of paper at him. “You are now richer than God.”

  “That sounds very blasphemous,” Sean said, scratching his head. “No, wait. Jesus gave up all his worldly possessions, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, but he put them all in his father’s name,” said Candace.

  “Well, thank you very much, Candace,” Sean said respectfully.

  “Wait, you know my name?” Candace said in astonishment.

  “Yes, and I also know that you’re an accountant, not a secretary,” Sean said.

  “That’s incredible!” Candace said in amazement. “You’ve never known that before!”

  “I’ve turned over a new leaf,” Sean said. “I just met a donkey cart driver, and I think he told me I’m supposed to be nice to people now. I don’t know. I didn’t really follow what he was saying. Anyway, starting today, we’re going to make some big changes around here. From now on, employees will only be required to work one shift! And we’ll give them proper healthcare! And pay them all minimum wage! And stop feeding them to alligators!”

  Candace gaped at Sean in astonishment, then scooped up a calculator and did some quick arithmetic.

  “But that could reduce your net wealth by as much as...” She scribbled down some numbers. “Twelve dollars!”

  “I don’t care,” said Sean.

  “My goodness,” Candace said. “You really have turned over a new leaf! That’s incredible. I’ll tell everyone right away!”

  “Okay,” Sean said. “And you can go home for the night. It’s okay. I’m not going to waste any money. I just need to make one phone call.”

  Obviously flabbergasted, Candace scooped up her coat and moved to leave.

  “This is incredible,” she muttered to herself as she went.

  Sean ambled over to his desk, where he found Winston sleeping quietly beside the desk. Careful not to disturb him, Sean rolled the chair back, then scooped up the phone and dialed a few very familiar numbers.

  “Begonias are the devil’s daffodils!” screamed a voice on the other end. “Satan’s sunflowers! Beelzebub's buttercups! Lucifer’s lilacs!”

  “Hi, Dad,” Sean said. “Could you put Mom on? I’m calling for her.”

  “It’s our garden-sympathizing son,” wailed Rodney.

  There was a pause and the sounds of Pearl wrenching the phone away from Rodney.

  “Hello, Sean, dear,” came her maternal voice.

  “Hi, Mom,” said Sean, his excitement audible. “Guess who got promoted on his first day?”

  (Finis. The Humancorp Communications Department wishes to inform you that a message to the reader follows on the next page. Reading it is mandatory, as it will reprogram your brain in a manner most favorable to the corporation.)

  Message to the Reader

  Dear Reader,

  Begonias! Begonias everywhere!

  Ehem. Excuse me. Congratulations on reaching the end of Humancorp Incorporated. Sadly, in spite of your excellent performance as a reader of this book, the compa
ny has decided to terminate you as a reader. It’s nothing personal. The CEO just decided his dog needs your salary more than you do.

  In slightly more seriousness, I hope you enjoyed reading Humancorp Incorporated as much as I enjoyed writing it. It represented a departure from the You Are Dead series (my other comedy series which, if you didn’t know about before now, you should check out). I tried to keep it looser and, if possible, even crazier than the You Are Dead series, and I made a lot of other artistic choices, like restraining the use of the third person and tangents. However, I did make the potentially unforgivable mistake of trying to give it some meaning, which is always a perilous undertaking, as you never know who might be lurking angrily behind you with dissenting opinions and a whacking stick.

  If you liked Humancorp Incorporated, I have good news! I might possibly consider writing a sequel in the series at some point in the future. On the other hand, if you didn’t like it, keep in mind that neither the book nor I am real, and you just hallucinated all this due to a stress-induced mental breakdown, and there is no need to try to hunt me down in my office in the janitorial bunker at Humancorp headquarters.

  But if you did enjoy the book, maybe you can help me out a little! You could review this book and share it with your friends. I rely on writing for my income, and I have struggled to get the word out about my novels. Just a little help from you could mean worlds to me. Since reviews are my only potential source of feedback, I also find them invaluable for my future writing.

  I have written a large number of other books, some comedic, some serious. They are all available on Amazon and other online retail outlets, and you can find them by searching my name.

  Best,

  --Andrew Stanek

  PS: If you want to join my mailing list, go to http://eepurl.com/bhTc9H. I send out notices about my writing and sometimes give out good stuff, like free books and advance copies of my new novels to people on the list. I won’t send you spam. You can contact me at StanekBooks@gmail.com if you just want to talk to me about something.