A Short Story (Bean)

Well , just because I had the time here goes. Turns out I couldn't post it in the layout that it's intended so here is a basic version. As has been mentioned before, Al once suggested that I just type 'anything that comes into your head rather than nothing at all'. This was quite a few years ago when I was attempting to write a book and complained of "writers block". Apparently some say there is no such thing. Anyway it ended with a collection of made up on the spot short stories. I never knew what was going to happen myself as I typed.

The pictures are a recent addition that I dabbled with using a mix of 3d software and stuff ... since I cant draw in real life.

I think I must have had thoughts of the various crap various jobs I have had as I did this particular one.

Anyway, if you would like a power nap then read on.

BY BEAN STRANGEWAYS

'Excuse me? I don't think you're allowed in there,' said the young man.
'What do you mean?' replied the other man.
'I think you'll find it's for staff only: there's a notice on the door.'
'Yes, I can see the notice thank you.'
'Okay then. I just thought I'd tell you.'
'That's very considerate of you, but actually I work here,' said the second man, his hand grasping the door handle.
'Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise,' replied the young man embarrassedly, and then added, 'What do you do here?'
'I boss.'
'Excuse me?'
'I'm The Boss.'
'Really?' laughed the first man, 'Are you having me on?'
'No,' replied the second man, 'I can assure you that I am The Boss and that I am certainly not having you, nor anyone else, “on”. It's Brian isn't it?'
'Uh, yeah. How did you know my name?' asked Brian.

'It's my duty. Well, I must be getting on.'
'Hey! Hang on.' Brian called out.

The Boss dropped his hand from the door handle and sighed, 'Yes? What is it?'
'Er, could I have a word with you, especially since you're the boss and all.'
'Very well. What is it?' The Boss asked, turning to Brian.
'Well, I was wondering if you could maybe loosen my shackles a bit.'
'I don't think that's an option,' replied The Boss matter-of-factly.
'What do you mean?' whined Brian. 'My wrists and ankles are really sore. The metal digs in.'

'Well in that case let me rephrase myself,' said The Boss. 'No.'
'But why must they be so tight? Coming to think of it, why am I shackled to the wall in the first place?'

The Boss stepped in front of Brian and peered down closely at his face. 'You are joking aren't you?' he said.
'Er, no,' replied Brian, averting his eyes from The Boss' piercing stare.
'You mean you really don't understand?'
'Well, no, not really.'
'Not even an inkling?'

Brian was silent for a moment. 'Well, maybe a small inkling.'
'And what is that small inkling?' asked The Boss, straightening up in front of Brian.
Well,' replied Brian, 'It's the heat and flames that suggest something.'
'And what exactly do the heat and flames suggest, Brian?'
'That I'm being punished?' asked Brian looking up at The Boss.
'Well done!' exclaimed The Boss, 'You are being punished. Which brings us back to the loosening of the shackles. It can't be done or it wouldn't be the correct punishment you see.'

Brian looked around and then looked at the red hot floor. 'I'm in Hell aren't I?' he said softly.
'Yes.'
'So if you're the boss then you must be…er…'
'Yes?' prompted The Boss.

'You must be that Beezlyblub bloke.'
'Beelzebub, the Devil and many other names. Yes that's correct but you may address me as Sir'

Despite the heat Brian's face turned pale. 'Well, Mr Beezlyblub … Sir, why am I here?'
'You don't know that either?' asked The Boss.
'No. No one told me.'
'If you don't know why you're here then maybe your punishment isn't severe enough,' suggested The Boss neatly expressing his unique ideology.

Brian thought hard. 'I remember bits of my past.'
'Good, and what can you remember?' urged The Boss.
'Er, I lived with my mum even though I was thirty-two, but that was because she had arthritis and needed help around the house.'
'Well, you're not here because of that are you?'
'Um...' pondered Brian, 'I helped out at the homeless shelter on weekends?'
'No, it wasn't that,' sighed The Boss who was now looking at his fingernail, 'What else?'
'I wrote a book called The Art Of Being Nice and gave the royalties to charity?'
'No! No!' snapped The Boss, You're in Hell! What action do you think earned your passage here?'
'I don't know!' wailed Brian, 'I even went to church every Sunday, I'm a religious man!'

The Boss brought his face close to Brian's and said quietly, 'Don't mention The War. If you do that again I'll quite happily remove your head in one fair swoop.'

Brian quickly turned away, eyes shut, bracing himself for some kind of physical attack. A few moments later he looked up at The Boss who had stepped backed. With a concerned expression Brian decided to ask, 'Isn't the term ‘one fell swoop'?'
'Yes,' admitted The Boss, 'But I can say what I like…believe me.'
'Look,' whimpered Brian resignedly, 'I really can't remember why I was sent here, honest.'
'Well, think harder, you worthless fool,' sighed The Boss.
'I can't!' cried Brian, 'I really can't remember! I shouldn't be here! My name is Brian. Surely nobody called Brian goes to hell?'

The Boss thought for a moment and scratched his chin. 'A rather weak, but nonetheless plausible supposition,' he said.

The Boss waved his hand briefly and a small disgusting creature ran to his side. It looked up at him with red runny eyes. The sores that covered its face were weeping over its ghoulish skin. The Boss looked down at it. 'Frank, I want you to get the file on Brian Winters for me.'

Frank looked behind him and then back at The Boss with a blank expression.
'Yes I'm talking to you Frank,' said The Boss. 'The file. Go and get it.'

As the information reached Frank's brain, his eyes widened. He then excitedly scuttled off into the flames.

The heat was causing Brian to sweat as he looked at The Boss with a pathetic expression. 'I'm sure I would have remembered if I'd done anything wrong.'
'Well, we'll soon see,' replied The Boss.
'But shouldn't you know?' asked Brian.
'No, not really. I can't be expected to know everything. That's why we have paperwork.'

Frank scuttled back with a file clutched in one of his claws. He was panting hard and made a bubbly sound. The Boss took the file. 'Thank you Frank, you can go now.'
Frank stood there looking vacant.

'I said you could go now,' repeated The Boss.
Frank stood there and started to dribble.
The Boss sighed. Frank exploded.
'I really hate having to say things more than twice,' said The Boss
'That wasn't very nice of you,' said Brian.
'Don't you tell me what's nice and what's not. I'm highly qualified in that area. I also expect the best from my staff so don't start telling me how to do my job either,' sneered The Boss.

The Boss flicked through the file. Brian strained his neck to try and see.

'Hmm,' said The Boss, 'Frank, are you sure that…?' he stopped mid-sentence as he remembered that Frank was no longer.
'What's the matter?' asked Brian.
'Well,' replied The Boss sheepishly, 'There seems to have been a slight clerical error.'
'What?' asked Brian.
'Yes,' said The Boss. 'Sorry about that. A slight mix up. You can go.'
'What, just like that?'
'Yes.'
'You're not going to keep me here for eternity?'
'Good grief no,' retorted The Boss. 'You haven't done anything wrong enough to earn the right to be here at all.'
The shackles fell from Brian's limbs.

'Well, that's very kind of you,' said Brian, rubbing his wrists and carefully stretching his back.

'Yes it is isn't it,' agreed The Boss 'But “hell hath no fury...” as they say.'
'Do they?' asked Brian who was beginning to fade.
'Apparently,' said The Boss
'Where do I go now?' asked Brian, his voice becoming fainter.
'Beats me,' replied The Boss, turning to walk away. 'That's not my area.'

And then Brian was gone.