by Nicholas Rasche
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\nIt was a slow day in my office, which was about typical. \u00a0Lately, they\u2019d all been slow days. \u00a0In order to pass the time, I\u2019d started to ascribe them personalities. \u00a0Monday was friendly, but a little pushy. \u00a0Tuesday was surly, Wednesday dull and Thursday and Friday had formed a tightly-knitted clique and tended to be a bit standoffish. \u00a0When I found myself abbreviating their names to Joe, Beth, Sally, Steve and Mark, I knew that I was in serious need of a distraction. \u00a0It wasn\u2019t too long after that that the Lord provided one. But then, in His infinite wisdom, He usually does.<\/p>\n
My name is Father Francis Blake, MBA, and I\u2019m a Corporate Exorcist.<\/p>\n
The client was a ferrety-looking HR rep from the insurance industry. \u00a0Name of Hollis, or so he said. \u00a0Hey, it wasn\u2019t for me to judge. \u00a0That was for our all-knowing and compassionate God to do. \u00a0I lit a cigarette and gestured to the empty chair sitting across from my desk. \u00a0My attempt to suggest by my nonchalant attitude that I was a highly sought after consultant with more clients than there were hours in Steve was slightly undermined by the inch-thick layer of dust on the chair, desk, calendar, filing cabinet and phone. \u00a0Still, I think he appreciated the effort.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s the problem, Hollis?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know quite how to begin, I mean, it all sounds so implausible, really, and I hate to\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
He stammered off into silence. \u00a0Luckily, I\u2019d seen this sort of thing before. \u00a0I reached underneath the desk and pulled out my portable screen. \u00a0Placing it between us, I gave him a quick blast of the old Latin.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026 In nomine patris. \u00a0Amen.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAmen,\u201d he echoed automatically.<\/p>\n
\u201cOK, my son. \u00a0Let me have it.\u201d<\/p>\n
That old-school confessional charm worked its magic, and he spilled. \u00a0Seemed that the Financial Operations Department had been having troubles for months. \u00a0The usual signs \u2013 low morale, missing office supplies, the discovery of the decapitated body of a mail clerk in the copy room \u2013 but the alarm bells had really been raised at last week\u2019s team meeting. \u00a0HR had been able to obtain a copy of the minutes.\u00a0 Hollis passed them through the grill.\u00a0 I examined them.<\/p>\n
– Minutes of previous meeting read. \u00a0Chair asked if minutes were accepted.<\/p>\n
– Minutes accepted (unanimous)<\/p>\n
– Business arising from minutes of previous meeting:<\/p>\n
(1) Need to formulate clear policy re: tea room cleaning roster. \u00a0Referred to committee.<\/p>\n
(2) Conquest of earthly realms for the glory of our Dark Lord.<\/strong><\/p>\n (3) Information packs for display at W.A.F.P. conference arrived. \u00a0Volunteers requested to man booth.<\/p>\n \u201cW.A.F.P.?\u201d<\/p>\n Hollis looked up, startled.<\/p>\n \u201cUhh… Worldwide Association of Financial Professionals, Father. \u00a0It\u2019s an industry body.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s all?\u201d<\/p>\n He looked confused. \u00a0I prompted him.<\/p>\n \u201cWe Appreciate Fiery Perdition?\u201d<\/p>\n No reaction.<\/p>\n \u201cThe secret password of the Ancient Order of Satanic Comptrollers? Who from since the dawn of time have plotted to\u2014 \u00a0Oh, forget it. \u00a0Go on.\u201d<\/p>\n No-one appreciates traditional wisdom anymore.<\/p>\n Hollis coughed and continued.<\/p>\n Soon after the meeting in question, things had taken a serious turn for the worse in Financial Operations. \u00a0The receptionist had begun greeting all visitors with a painful and often disfiguring volley of staple-gun fire, incoming calls had been diverted to a mysterious voicemail message that, played backwards, directed the caller to investigate the services offered by the website www.yourmothersucks*****inhell.org, and the Internal Audits Team had arrived unannounced at midnight at the Chief Financial Officer\u2019s house and asked some extremely personal questions about his children\u2019s virginity before departing with his youngest daughter muttering darkly about the need to \u201csacrifice for the good of the company.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe also think the Accounting Department has been turned into zombies… but of course, it\u2019s difficult to tell,\u201d Hollis concluded, his face a mask of despair that was illuminated by the faintest ray of hope as he raised his head and looked me in the eye.<\/p>\n \u201cSo, Father…\u00a0 Do you think you can help us?\u201d<\/p>\n I reached into the left-hand desk drawer for my flask. \u00a0After sucking back a hit of non-vintage communion wine I offered it to Hollis. \u00a0He declined.<\/p>\n \u201cHollis,\u201d I said, \u201cI won\u2019t lie to you. \u00a0Your company has been deeply infiltrated by the Prince of Lies. \u00a0Even now, the infection is working its way through your org chart. \u00a0It may have even reached the Board, or\u2014\u201d\u00a0 Instinctively, Hollis crossed himself.\u00a0 \u201c\u2014Yes, even the CEO himself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHerself,\u201d he timidly ventured.<\/p>\n I shuddered. \u00a0\u201cThen may God have mercy on us all.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut will you take the case?\u201d<\/p>\n He was persistent. \u00a0The rent on the office was three months overdue. \u00a0And, after all, I had a vocation.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll need a spare conference room, an overhead projector, six candles and a leather-bound copy of your Mission Statement. \u00a0And you\u2019d better give me half an hour to brief Security.\u00a0 This could get ugly.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/br> Amid the muttering and the sound of shuffling feet, a guttural voice rasped out.<\/p>\n \u201cFool! \u00a0Your pitiful God is dead!\u201d<\/p>\n I gave them an authoritative glare to mask my nervousness. \u00a0There\u2019s nothing like being the only thing standing between the exit and a dozen demonically possessed accountants, systems engineers, actuaries and assorted administrative personnel to make you reflect on the difficulties of the consultant\u2019s life.<\/p>\n I nodded to Hollis, who stood at the back of the room shaking. \u00a0A lucky shot from one of the guys from tech support had sprayed his suit coat with rather lurid-coloured vomit, and he was apparently feeling worse for the experience. \u00a0He managed to change the slide.<\/p>\n A wail broke out from the assembled mob.<\/p>\n \u201cNow,\u201d I continued, \u201cas you can see, the Vatican Consulting Group identifies four key points constituting the Crucifix of Empowerment. \u00a0Buy-in… Pro-activity… Continuous improvement… and, most important of all…\u201d \u00a0I grabbed the receptionist by the hair and pressed the Mission Statement against her forehead.\u00a0 \u201cHave fun!\u201d<\/p>\n She gave a high pitched squeal. \u00a0I felt the sweat beading on my brow. \u00a0I was getting too old for this game.\u00a0 Still, it was too late to stop now.<\/p>\n \u201cHave fun! \u00a0Have fun! \u00a0The power of Christ compels you!\u201d<\/p>\n She slumped to the floor. \u00a0The security guards approached and dragged her out of the conference room.<\/p>\n Eleven more to go. \u00a0It was going to be a closely-run thing. \u00a0I only had ten slides left. \u00a0Perhaps it was time for a change of approach.<\/p>\n \u201cAll right,\u201d I said, lighting the censer and letting them have a dose of incense. \u00a0\u201cTime for a little role-playing exercise. \u00a0You,\u201d I said, peering at the nearest employee\u2019s nametag, \u201cAzphodel the Vile, would you mind getting up here?\u201d<\/p>\n Shooting me an angry glance from his glowing red eyes, Azphodel \u2014 otherwise known, as I later found out, as Daryl from Accounts Receivable \u2014 got to his feet to a thin smattering of applause.<\/p>\n \u201cOK. \u00a0Now for this exercise, I\u2019m going to be a customer with a problem and I want you to try and achieve a resolution that satisfies all parties. \u00a0I\u2019ll give you a minute or two to prepare.\u201d<\/p>\n I left him steaming \u2014 quite literally, as an acrid vapour was rising from his body and slowly filling the room with an almost unbearable rankness \u2014 and whispered my instructions to the security guards.<\/p>\n \u201cAll right. \u00a0Ready?\u201d<\/p>\n He let loose a string of Etruscan obscenities, but I could tell his heart wasn\u2019t really in it.<\/p>\n \u201cHere we go then.\u201d \u00a0I took a deep breath and began weaving the censer around him.<\/p>\n \u201cI took out a home and contents policy a month ago in spiritu sancti <\/em>with coverage for fire in excelcis deo <\/em>theft gloria mundi gloria domine <\/em>and flood in nomine patria<\/em>. \u00a0With a total assessed value not less than $100,000 in nomine Jesus<\/em> but not greater than $500,000 ave Maria<\/em> am I entitled to claim depreciated premium deductions for the previous financial year without affecting my entitlement to claim in event of accident occurring during the designated 90 day cooling off period gloria in excelcis deo<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n Smothered in incense and battered with Latin, the confused Azphodel the Vile \/ Daryl from A.R. did exactly as I expected and sought guidance from his master, casting his imploring gaze on \u2013<\/p>\n \u201cHollis?\u201d<\/p>\n The mild-mannered HR rep smiled impishly and unfurled his vast, batlike wings. \u00a0His voice boomed like thunder and dripped like honey.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, my fine meddlesome priest. \u00a0You\u2019ve bedevilled \u2014 if\u00a0 you\u2019ll excuse the phrase \u2014 me for the last time. \u00a0Welcome to your deathbed! \u00a0Minions! \u00a0To work! \u00a0A tasty virgin\u2019s soul to the first one that brings me his head!\u201d<\/p>\n A little overdone, I thought, but the Dark One\u2019s predictable propensity for hyperbolic grandstanding had won me valuable time. \u00a0I smashed the censer over Azphodel\u2019s head, breaking it open and sending plumes of thick smoke spiralling to the ceiling, where it combined with the demon\u2019s own foul vapours to bring about a downpour.<\/p>\n God\u2019s own pure, cleansing rain. \u00a0Or, at least, a sprinkler system I had secretly arranged to have filled with holy water earlier in the afternoon. \u00a0It never pays to show all your cards too early.<\/p>\n The shrieking and howling of the Financial Operations Department rose to an ear-piercing crescendo and suddenly ceased as eleven bodies simultaneously hit the tastefully-carpeted floor, leaving me and the Beast that called itself Hollis locking gazes across the mist-filled atmosphere of Conference Room B.<\/p>\n I won\u2019t say that the old heart didn\u2019t race. \u00a0But the rush of pure adrenaline that comes from staring the embodiment of wickedness in the eye is what got me into this game in the first place. \u00a0I had the Lord on my side. \u00a0Plus two heavily-armed security guards named Flaherty and O\u2019Shaunnesy. \u00a0I pulled out my Mace of Righteousness.<\/p>\n \u201cOK, boys,\u201d I cheerfully urged the products of four hundred years of ruthlessly dogmatic Catholic education. \u00a0\u201cLet\u2019s get him.\u201d<\/p>\n I was right, of course. \u00a0It got ugly.<\/p>\n <\/br> \u201cExcuse me. \u00a0Are you an employee?\u201d<\/p>\n I turned around. \u00a0Staring at me with an attitude so glacial as to be under severe threat from the encroaches of global warming was a painfully well-dressed young couple. \u00a0The woman had spoken. \u00a0I exhaled a thin plume of smoke in her direction.<\/p>\n \u201cNot any more, my daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh. \u00a0Well, anyway, you can\u2019t smoke here.\u201d<\/p>\n Her companion smirked and snorted simultaneously, a difficult feat to accomplish but one which did nothing to raise him in my estimation.<\/p>\n \u201cJust call Security, Fiona,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cI will.\u201d<\/p>\n To spare them the inconvenience of a long wait, I dropped the cigarette and ground it beneath my feet.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019d better not leave that butt there, either. \u00a0It\u2019s illegal.\u00a0 And disgusting.\u201d<\/p>\n Patiently, I bent down, picked up what had until recently been a perfectly good three-quarters of a cigarette and tossed it into a nearby bin.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s better.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, Fiona. \u00a0Before he asks us for some money. \u00a0Besides, we\u2019ve got a meeting with Jeremy in five.\u201d<\/p>\n With one last withering glance, they turned, locked step, and strolled into the building.<\/p>\n The fight against evil is ever-present and never-ending. \u00a0All victories are ultimately Phyrric, fewer and further between for an old warhorse like myself, and hot on their heels inevitably comes the letdown of life as we know it. \u00a0In the end, there\u2019s nothing you can do but accept the facts, and move on.<\/p>\n On the other hand, I still had the mace.<\/p>\n I turned around and followed them to the lift. by Nicholas Rasche It was a slow day in my office, which was about typical. \u00a0Lately, they\u2019d all been slow days. \u00a0In order to pass the time, I\u2019d started to ascribe them personalities. \u00a0Monday was friendly, but a little pushy. … Continue reading
\n\u201cNow, what makes a team effective? \u00a0Any ideas?\u201d<\/p>\n
\nStanding outside the corporate offices of Grossman, Gaynes, Mammon & Son, watching the ambulance pull away with Flaherty safely, if obliviously, stored in back, the faithful O\u2019Shaunessy by his side, I puffed on my cigarette meditatively. \u00a0True, the Lord of Lies had been routed, in at least his most recent manifestation \u2014 the Hollis-thing was now a rapidly melting pile of pitch-black goo that was probably going to pose all kinds of problems for the night cleaning shift \u2014 but the struggle of Good versus Evil is eternal. \u00a0Even in the hour of our triumph, we \u2013<\/p>\n
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\nNICHOLAS RASCHE<\/strong> is a writer and performer based in Melbourne, Australia. His fiction has appeared in journals including Island, Going Down Swinging, and The Famous Reporter. He has written and appeared in numerous theatrical productions, most recently \u201cSupermanchild\u201d (with Lisa-Skye Ioannidis) at the 2010 Melbourne International Comedy Festival.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"