“Mr. Hibery?” A child of eighteen stands at my secretary’s desk. *He leans against the widow of his office* Now look at that poor soul. She probably had to go through all the bureaucratic bullshit that came with graduating at a local community college. Go to class, go work your ass off, and here’s your piece of paper. Now go get a fucking job little girl. I’ve never had to worry about that. Daddy’s money has gotten me off quite well, though the old bat never knew how to brand. Hibery Incorporated. With a name like that I half joked that we needed to sell blueberries at uncle’s farm.
Pity that the old boy hasn’t died of a heart attack though He is quite useless. I have no tolerance for useless things. You do as you must, or you go the way of the dinosaur. It isn’t hard math; it is simple Darwinian evolution at best. I need to change the name immediately.
My secretary, Miss Mayers, is a kind woman in her thirties. Now, when fucking a secretary, three traits are necessary. They must be dependable, controllable, and best of all, manipulative. This last trait has entitled her to raises, and an increased stake in, me of course. *He opens the door and steps out of his office.*
“Oh, good afternoon Martha.” Notice, *he smiles* how the intern left my secretary and is now walking out. “Miss!” *he catches up to her*
“Mr. Hibery, I assume?” *he shakes her hand, a smile creeping on his lips*
“Why yes, one and the same! Call me Matt! And you are?” My southern accent has always captivated others. It’s why this lobbyist organization has lasted as long as it has. “Shall we go into my office?”
“Yes sir.” *They walk into the office as Mr. Hibery sits down*
“Take a seat ma’am.” She does, and I notice her eyes. They are catlike. Interesting.
“I’m here to discuss the Hillbrand Liquor deal we struck with Hibery Incorporated.”
“Yes of course.” Watch, this is where the magic happens, boys and girls.
“My employer, Mr. Jefferson, is prepared to make you a generous offer.” She passes me a written contract.
“You want me to lobby the United States Congress, to lower the national drinking age, from twenty-one, to five
“Mr. Jefferson believes this is a growing untapped potential market we need to explore. To do so, we have added fluoride to the alcohol. We believe this is a goldmine, Mr. H-
“I told you to call me Matt, and, I do as well!” I tell her, shaking her hand. “I’ll get right to it.”
Attempting to convince aging men in the United States Congress, that five year olds need alcohol, at first seems a little difficult. Take Gerald Gardner, for example. 60 years of age. He led me into his office, fuming.
“You want me, to believe, that alcohol will help five year olds in kindergarten.”
“I know how ridiculous that sounds sir.”
“You’re damn right it’s ridiculous! How the hell can you sleep at night Matt!”
“It’s not like they have to drink a case of the damn thing Gerald! They just take one small bottle, and call it a night. We give our 13 year olds drinks all the time at home.”
“We supervise them!”
“Gerry, come on, it’s not like we don’t supervise them while they brush their teeth. What’s the difference, we just give them a simpler way to brush their teeth with parental supervision.” I pass him a note and he nods.
“I suppose so.”
Five months later, I found out that my efforts were a success when the “Federal Fluoride Initiative” passed unanimously in the Senate. Senator Gardner stated, “The alcohol ferments the fluoride onto the teeth, via the hops, creating a self-brushing solution that everyone can enjoy with Hillbrand brand alcohol.”
If I can convince the lawmakers of this country to pass beer for five year olds, I can tame a whore on Facebook easily. I’ve texted her instructions. We're meeting tonight
“Meet me at the alleyway between Green and Fowl. M”
This will be quite fun, won’t it. Just watch.