Misfire Fill: "Deathwish"
Fandom: Portal
Rating: T
Summary: An employee is drawing unflattering pictures of his boss. Caroline straightens him out.
Notes: Original misfire post is here. I don't actually know if it's a misfire or just a random dick post, and I don't care -- it gives hardass!Caroline a chance to be a hardass.
Disclaimer: Portal and all associated characters belong to Valve. I just borrow them for my own sick pleasure.
“CAROLINE!”
She recognized the murderous tone in his voice and cringed. Whatever this was about, it could not be good-and straightening it out would probably be her responsibility. No use avoiding it. She steeled herself for an explosion and poked her head into his office. “Yes, Mr. Johnson?”
“C’mere, Caroline.” She approached his desk cautiously. Her boss was shaking with barely-suppressed rage. In his hand he held a piece of paper in a death grip. He brandished it in her face. “What the hell is this?”
She took the paper from him to have a look: it was a crude sketch of what looked like a troll of some sort, bearing the caption Cave Johnson is such a dick. A little speech bubble poked out of cartoon Cave’s mouth: “Black Mesa kicks my ass.” Her heart sank. Uh oh…
“I found that in the green room.” His eyes flashed as they met hers. “What the hell is the meaning of this? Is someone trying to make a laughingstock of me?”
“Of course not, sir, it just looks like an immature joke, that’s all-”
“A joke? You call this a joke? Do I look like I'm laughing, Caroline?” His face was turning purple with fury. “I want the person responsible found, and I want him fired! This! Instant!”
“Sir, maybe-”
“THIS INSTANT, D’YOU HERE ME?” he bellowed. “GET ON IT! NOW!”
“Yes sir, Mr. Johnson.” She fled the room as quickly as she could and slumped against the wall outside. She didn’t know who the culprit was-but she could make a pretty good guess.
She found her prime suspect by the coffee machine, showing another piece of paper to a pair of colleagues and grinning like the arrogant ass he was. The clicking of her heels on the tile floor warned the group of her entrance, and their sniggering ceased. Two of the three maintained nondescript poker faces-the third went white when he saw her, then blushed bright red.
She wanted to see what was on that paper.
The probable culprit kept his cool the best. He greeted her with a winning grin. “Hi there, Caroline.”
“Hello, Ray.” She mirrored his flimsy smile as she approached. “May I have a look at that?”
Before any of the men could react she snatched the paper away. It was another illustration-this one of a curvy female caricature being menaced by a cartoon penis the size of her torso. The tiny clipboard in her hand and the speech bubble coming from her mouth-“Gee, Mr. Johnson, I love science!”-gave the figure’s identity away.
It was all Caroline could do to keep from ripping the drawing to shreds in his face. She restricted herself to a barbed comment: “Well. Aren’t we the artist today.” A flush crept into the guilty man’s cheeks. “And I’m guessing you’re also behind the little masterpiece that Mr. Johnson found in the green room?”
“Well-y’see, Caroline-”
“Ray,” she began patiently, “I have covered for you more times than I can count. I have tried being civil. I have tried being reasonable. Nothing seems to get through to you-so I’ll make this your final warning.” Her tone became sharp and dangerous. Even in heels she was a good few inches shorter than him, but somehow she managed to stare him down. “If you put one more goddamn toe out of line, you worthless imbecile, I swear I will tell him every single thing you’ve ever done wrong. And then I will take a shameful amount of pleasure in shipping what’s left of your sorry ass home to your mother in a matchbox. Do you understand me?”
He gulped and nodded.
“Do you understand me?”
“Y-yes ma’am.”
“Good.”
She settled her smile back in place and started to go. Trying to save face in front of his friends, he muttered at her retreating back, “Crazy broad.”
He muttered it a little too loudly.
She paused and turned back to look at him, still wearing that shark-like smile. “You know, Raymond, we’ve really wasted your talents by keeping you in sales. I think you’d do much better in robotics, don’t you? They can always make use of creative people, especially ones who don’t mind… risky behavior. I think I’ll recommend you for a transfer right away.” Before he could respond she continued, “Of course, you’ll have to be careful down there-some of those military androids can get a little trigger-happy. Just be sure not to set them off.”
This time her exit was followed only by silence and openmouthed stares.
Rating: T
Summary: An employee is drawing unflattering pictures of his boss. Caroline straightens him out.
Notes: Original misfire post is here. I don't actually know if it's a misfire or just a random dick post, and I don't care -- it gives hardass!Caroline a chance to be a hardass.
Disclaimer: Portal and all associated characters belong to Valve. I just borrow them for my own sick pleasure.
“CAROLINE!”
She recognized the murderous tone in his voice and cringed. Whatever this was about, it could not be good-and straightening it out would probably be her responsibility. No use avoiding it. She steeled herself for an explosion and poked her head into his office. “Yes, Mr. Johnson?”
“C’mere, Caroline.” She approached his desk cautiously. Her boss was shaking with barely-suppressed rage. In his hand he held a piece of paper in a death grip. He brandished it in her face. “What the hell is this?”
She took the paper from him to have a look: it was a crude sketch of what looked like a troll of some sort, bearing the caption Cave Johnson is such a dick. A little speech bubble poked out of cartoon Cave’s mouth: “Black Mesa kicks my ass.” Her heart sank. Uh oh…
“I found that in the green room.” His eyes flashed as they met hers. “What the hell is the meaning of this? Is someone trying to make a laughingstock of me?”
“Of course not, sir, it just looks like an immature joke, that’s all-”
“A joke? You call this a joke? Do I look like I'm laughing, Caroline?” His face was turning purple with fury. “I want the person responsible found, and I want him fired! This! Instant!”
“Sir, maybe-”
“THIS INSTANT, D’YOU HERE ME?” he bellowed. “GET ON IT! NOW!”
“Yes sir, Mr. Johnson.” She fled the room as quickly as she could and slumped against the wall outside. She didn’t know who the culprit was-but she could make a pretty good guess.
She found her prime suspect by the coffee machine, showing another piece of paper to a pair of colleagues and grinning like the arrogant ass he was. The clicking of her heels on the tile floor warned the group of her entrance, and their sniggering ceased. Two of the three maintained nondescript poker faces-the third went white when he saw her, then blushed bright red.
She wanted to see what was on that paper.
The probable culprit kept his cool the best. He greeted her with a winning grin. “Hi there, Caroline.”
“Hello, Ray.” She mirrored his flimsy smile as she approached. “May I have a look at that?”
Before any of the men could react she snatched the paper away. It was another illustration-this one of a curvy female caricature being menaced by a cartoon penis the size of her torso. The tiny clipboard in her hand and the speech bubble coming from her mouth-“Gee, Mr. Johnson, I love science!”-gave the figure’s identity away.
It was all Caroline could do to keep from ripping the drawing to shreds in his face. She restricted herself to a barbed comment: “Well. Aren’t we the artist today.” A flush crept into the guilty man’s cheeks. “And I’m guessing you’re also behind the little masterpiece that Mr. Johnson found in the green room?”
“Well-y’see, Caroline-”
“Ray,” she began patiently, “I have covered for you more times than I can count. I have tried being civil. I have tried being reasonable. Nothing seems to get through to you-so I’ll make this your final warning.” Her tone became sharp and dangerous. Even in heels she was a good few inches shorter than him, but somehow she managed to stare him down. “If you put one more goddamn toe out of line, you worthless imbecile, I swear I will tell him every single thing you’ve ever done wrong. And then I will take a shameful amount of pleasure in shipping what’s left of your sorry ass home to your mother in a matchbox. Do you understand me?”
He gulped and nodded.
“Do you understand me?”
“Y-yes ma’am.”
“Good.”
She settled her smile back in place and started to go. Trying to save face in front of his friends, he muttered at her retreating back, “Crazy broad.”
He muttered it a little too loudly.
She paused and turned back to look at him, still wearing that shark-like smile. “You know, Raymond, we’ve really wasted your talents by keeping you in sales. I think you’d do much better in robotics, don’t you? They can always make use of creative people, especially ones who don’t mind… risky behavior. I think I’ll recommend you for a transfer right away.” Before he could respond she continued, “Of course, you’ll have to be careful down there-some of those military androids can get a little trigger-happy. Just be sure not to set them off.”
This time her exit was followed only by silence and openmouthed stares.