The linen suited cylindrical woman stomped her piggish foot again, raising her voice on the phone to an ever-higher pitch. “I KNOW you don’t’ know where she is, I’m telling you to get off your ass and FIND her! She didn’t’ disappear in to thin air.”
That fucking whore stole from me, and she has to be found and punished for her betrayals!
“Don’t make me talk to you manager!” the cylindrical woman screamed into the phone.
There was a time when everyone’s male manager was eager to talk to Carol Anne, when even placating an angry and waspish woman such as her self was considered and excellent opening to get closer and eventually into her bed. A time when she used her sex and her looks as a scalpel to carve out the finest cuts of any opportunity. Now all she had was her rage, her volume and her unwavering reputation for exacting eventual revenge upon any who dared to cross her. But one does not fight upon the field of battle with the weapons you wish you had, or even the ones you used to have, no you fight them with the weapons you do have.
Carols Ann’s gradual descent from hotly desired and pursued prospect, through ageless and into her current near invisibility had come as a complete and total surprise to Carol Ann, and to this day she had not really adapted to the changes. She was always a carrot and stick kind of woman, so when the carrot ceased to be temping, the stick was always there.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Today was a day for the stick. A day of the stick. Carol Ann was the stick personified.
Everything I can do in the short term, is done. It’s time for long term offense.
“Sharon get…” dammit. The shame burned her again. Betrayed, and she was such a good judge of character. I should have known she was too good to be true.
First, an email to Personel requesting a temp, until she could get her new Sharon out of the pipeline.
Carol Ann Grabbed the phone, it was time to lean on one of her old friends.
“Hey there, Carol Ann here, how’s it going! You are still on the design committee, right? chairing it next! Acting assistant? Even better. I need you to do me a small favor.”
“Yes, Yes, I Know we broke up years ago, but it’d be a shame if, say, a stranger were to share tales of our times together with your wife? I seem to remember you being very keen on taking photos of us together, in delicate situations. Be a shame if some of those were leaked as well.”
“Ah, you changed you mind you will be able to help me! Excellent! Somehow, I just knew you would. I need to talk to you about Garabals new magic types and his new Magus on Devona. I Need you to put the brakes on any positive changes and start tightening the screws, I want everything re-examined and nerfed to total uselessness. I want that bastard so weak that he begs for help opening a soda! Start with everything you can change without needing approval, then move onto the big stuff.’
“Right, Right, thanks I appreciate your assistance on the matter.”
Soon Carol Ann was flipping through a book and dialing again.
“Hey there, Carol Ann here, how’s it going! You are still on the design committee, right?”