Assington
02-05-2005, 07:43
I was fortunate enough to be given almost free reign when it came to doing a piece of English assessment. During a drunken pondering session, I decided to come up with a short story satire of my job as a produce boy in Coles Supermarket.
Enjoy. And if you feel up to it, write a satire of your own job.
_______________
A Welcome End
Monday was meant to be a good day, a relaxing day. Alas, this was not to be for young Frank Rage, produce boy at the local Coles supermarket. Dismay ravaged his barely bearded face as Frank negotiated with the store manager, his horribly irritating boss. Finally agreeing in resignation, Frank slammed the phone down as if he were attempting to hammer his boss through the phone line. Dragging himself back into his room, Frank donned his loathsome Coles uniform, consisting of a long sleeved blue shirt, long black pants, black shoes and a black Coles hat. Irritated beyond measure that he was awake before the sun, Frank stalked into his humble car and began the eerie drive towards work.
Five painful minutes later found Frank standing outside the sealed staff entrance of the local Coles supermarket, waiting for someone to open the door. Eventually the door burst open, almost collecting Frank as it arced outwards and slammed the wall next to it. A troll like man stood before him, his beady eyes glaring from behind a thick brow and hooked nose that somehow reminded Frank of a rat. “Frank!”, he exclaimed, “Good to see you’re on time for once. Here’s the deal. No one else in the department can make it today, so you are the only staff member in Fresh Produce and you’ll be doing a twenty-four hour shift. Since you’re the only one in today, you can’t have any breaks either.” Aghast at such a prospect, Frank stared at the manager for several minutes before stumbling into a protest, “But… the union won’t allow this!”
“Bugger the union. The new government laws passed meant we could abolish the union and do whatever we like.” Physically shaken from his manager’s words, Frank could see he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Sighing in resignation, he eventually replied, “Oh well, at least I get public holiday pay.” The manager merely looked back at him with a malicious grin, something had him delighted. “Actually… due to budget restrictions we can only pay you five dollars an hour.” Frank couldn’t help but go pale as the feeling of being slapped with an iron gauntlet came over him, stinging with an unlimited fury. Before Frank could say anything, the manager yanked him inside and slammed the door, locking it firmly. And so at five a.m., Frank Rage found himself at work starting off what would be a heinous twenty-four hour shift and being paid below minimum wage for it. Could it possibly get any worse?
Four arduous hours later found Frank standing amongst bunks as he gazed upon the wall case and surrounding bunks, admiring the results of his effort over the last four hours. Whilst he may be irritated beyond all measure, Frank had completely filled all shelves, cut up everything necessary and gone through everything, removing waste. It was perfection; pure labour had created something great. With the clock striking nine, the massive front doors were opened and the sub-human being known as the customer was allowed to enter. Frank loathed the customer with a passion. Unfortunately he could do little but watch in stark horror as the filthy creatures plunged their fists into stocked carrots, ripping out those from the bottom and sending others off in every other direction. Lettuce was thrown on the floor, tomatoes stood on whilst still upon the shelf. It was a massacre, the most horrendous event Frank had ever witnessed. He couldn’t believe such a thing could happen, the customers were especially ferocious today. Pulling his nerves together, Frank began to wander through the battlefield of his department but was soon stopped by the human rat once again. “Frank! What the hell is this? I was considering allowing you a five-minute break, but not anymore. The store is crap, what have you been doing? You’re pushing it Frank… pushing it. You’ve got to be the worst employee in this entire store!” Finished with his rant, Ivan stormed off on some pointless errand, like the rodent he was. Almost crying in dismay and disgust, Frank continued to survey the damage, his left eye uncontrollably twitching with the fury of a teased dog.
Attempting to reconstruct the tomatoes once again after hours of attempts, Frank found himself confronted by a particularly gruesome customer. This one attempted to look down on him from a physically lower position and glared with an abnormally spiteful expression. After a brief stare down, a nasal voice emerged, “You. This tomato is rotten!” Taking the tomato in his hand, Frank examined it before giving it back. “No it’s not. There’s nothing wrong with it.” Somehow offended, the customer shook her decaying head as she brought the tomato closer to Frank’s face and squeezed, projecting the inside of it onto his face. “I told you it was!”, screamed the filthy urchin. Wiping his eyes clean, Frank shook with spite as he looked down upon the woman, “Let me get a better one for you.” Disappearing out back for a few moments, Frank quickly returned with a large green object within his hand, more commonly known as a watermelon. Even more furious, it screamed at him, “That’s not a tomato!”. Smiling sadistically, Frank nodded, “No, but it will have to do…”. With those words, Frank pulled the watermelon over his head and plunged it forwards with a vengeful speed, his face contorted in rage as he cracked it directly on top of her vile head, plunging her into the depths of unconsciousness.
The day had passed with more stressful interactions, resulting in Frank’s wrath being delivered many times as he smote the foul beasts known as customers. Eventually the doors slammed shut and Frank was left alone, the only staff member in the store. Hours passed as he received the load of stock for the next day, working well into the morning to put it away. At this stage, Frank found himself operating in a zombie like state, fuelled only by pure rage, as his brain no longer functioned efficiently. Curses escaped Frank’s lips as he examined the massive amount of lettuce the manager had ordered. It was far too much, but of course Frank had to stack all the filthy boxes. And so Frank endured hours of the minus fifteen-degree temperature within the fridge to stack the entire load, piling several towers up to the roof. The task was finally completed and Frank gave the shelving holding lettuce and broccoli a kick of dominance, unsuspecting of retaliation. Screaming in horror, Frank could do nothing as he was pinned to the cold cement by hundreds of kilograms of lettuce and broccoli, the booming collapse echoing throughout the empty store.
With several key organs crushed, the most irritating being collapsed lungs and near zero water leaking all over him, Frank knew he would die within this realm of rage and suffering. The store was closed today due to car park renovations, no one could hear his gurgles. As he lay there, blood flow slowing due to sub zero temperatures within the fridge, Frank couldn’t help but smile as he considered one thing. He would never have to work again, he was free from the horrid employment of this institution that tortured him so and made him endure the beastly customers. As the darkness reigned in over his conscious mind for the last time, one thought dominated all others. Freedom.
Enjoy. And if you feel up to it, write a satire of your own job.
_______________
A Welcome End
Monday was meant to be a good day, a relaxing day. Alas, this was not to be for young Frank Rage, produce boy at the local Coles supermarket. Dismay ravaged his barely bearded face as Frank negotiated with the store manager, his horribly irritating boss. Finally agreeing in resignation, Frank slammed the phone down as if he were attempting to hammer his boss through the phone line. Dragging himself back into his room, Frank donned his loathsome Coles uniform, consisting of a long sleeved blue shirt, long black pants, black shoes and a black Coles hat. Irritated beyond measure that he was awake before the sun, Frank stalked into his humble car and began the eerie drive towards work.
Five painful minutes later found Frank standing outside the sealed staff entrance of the local Coles supermarket, waiting for someone to open the door. Eventually the door burst open, almost collecting Frank as it arced outwards and slammed the wall next to it. A troll like man stood before him, his beady eyes glaring from behind a thick brow and hooked nose that somehow reminded Frank of a rat. “Frank!”, he exclaimed, “Good to see you’re on time for once. Here’s the deal. No one else in the department can make it today, so you are the only staff member in Fresh Produce and you’ll be doing a twenty-four hour shift. Since you’re the only one in today, you can’t have any breaks either.” Aghast at such a prospect, Frank stared at the manager for several minutes before stumbling into a protest, “But… the union won’t allow this!”
“Bugger the union. The new government laws passed meant we could abolish the union and do whatever we like.” Physically shaken from his manager’s words, Frank could see he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Sighing in resignation, he eventually replied, “Oh well, at least I get public holiday pay.” The manager merely looked back at him with a malicious grin, something had him delighted. “Actually… due to budget restrictions we can only pay you five dollars an hour.” Frank couldn’t help but go pale as the feeling of being slapped with an iron gauntlet came over him, stinging with an unlimited fury. Before Frank could say anything, the manager yanked him inside and slammed the door, locking it firmly. And so at five a.m., Frank Rage found himself at work starting off what would be a heinous twenty-four hour shift and being paid below minimum wage for it. Could it possibly get any worse?
Four arduous hours later found Frank standing amongst bunks as he gazed upon the wall case and surrounding bunks, admiring the results of his effort over the last four hours. Whilst he may be irritated beyond all measure, Frank had completely filled all shelves, cut up everything necessary and gone through everything, removing waste. It was perfection; pure labour had created something great. With the clock striking nine, the massive front doors were opened and the sub-human being known as the customer was allowed to enter. Frank loathed the customer with a passion. Unfortunately he could do little but watch in stark horror as the filthy creatures plunged their fists into stocked carrots, ripping out those from the bottom and sending others off in every other direction. Lettuce was thrown on the floor, tomatoes stood on whilst still upon the shelf. It was a massacre, the most horrendous event Frank had ever witnessed. He couldn’t believe such a thing could happen, the customers were especially ferocious today. Pulling his nerves together, Frank began to wander through the battlefield of his department but was soon stopped by the human rat once again. “Frank! What the hell is this? I was considering allowing you a five-minute break, but not anymore. The store is crap, what have you been doing? You’re pushing it Frank… pushing it. You’ve got to be the worst employee in this entire store!” Finished with his rant, Ivan stormed off on some pointless errand, like the rodent he was. Almost crying in dismay and disgust, Frank continued to survey the damage, his left eye uncontrollably twitching with the fury of a teased dog.
Attempting to reconstruct the tomatoes once again after hours of attempts, Frank found himself confronted by a particularly gruesome customer. This one attempted to look down on him from a physically lower position and glared with an abnormally spiteful expression. After a brief stare down, a nasal voice emerged, “You. This tomato is rotten!” Taking the tomato in his hand, Frank examined it before giving it back. “No it’s not. There’s nothing wrong with it.” Somehow offended, the customer shook her decaying head as she brought the tomato closer to Frank’s face and squeezed, projecting the inside of it onto his face. “I told you it was!”, screamed the filthy urchin. Wiping his eyes clean, Frank shook with spite as he looked down upon the woman, “Let me get a better one for you.” Disappearing out back for a few moments, Frank quickly returned with a large green object within his hand, more commonly known as a watermelon. Even more furious, it screamed at him, “That’s not a tomato!”. Smiling sadistically, Frank nodded, “No, but it will have to do…”. With those words, Frank pulled the watermelon over his head and plunged it forwards with a vengeful speed, his face contorted in rage as he cracked it directly on top of her vile head, plunging her into the depths of unconsciousness.
The day had passed with more stressful interactions, resulting in Frank’s wrath being delivered many times as he smote the foul beasts known as customers. Eventually the doors slammed shut and Frank was left alone, the only staff member in the store. Hours passed as he received the load of stock for the next day, working well into the morning to put it away. At this stage, Frank found himself operating in a zombie like state, fuelled only by pure rage, as his brain no longer functioned efficiently. Curses escaped Frank’s lips as he examined the massive amount of lettuce the manager had ordered. It was far too much, but of course Frank had to stack all the filthy boxes. And so Frank endured hours of the minus fifteen-degree temperature within the fridge to stack the entire load, piling several towers up to the roof. The task was finally completed and Frank gave the shelving holding lettuce and broccoli a kick of dominance, unsuspecting of retaliation. Screaming in horror, Frank could do nothing as he was pinned to the cold cement by hundreds of kilograms of lettuce and broccoli, the booming collapse echoing throughout the empty store.
With several key organs crushed, the most irritating being collapsed lungs and near zero water leaking all over him, Frank knew he would die within this realm of rage and suffering. The store was closed today due to car park renovations, no one could hear his gurgles. As he lay there, blood flow slowing due to sub zero temperatures within the fridge, Frank couldn’t help but smile as he considered one thing. He would never have to work again, he was free from the horrid employment of this institution that tortured him so and made him endure the beastly customers. As the darkness reigned in over his conscious mind for the last time, one thought dominated all others. Freedom.