It is entirely fictional, although since it deals with the sacking of somebody over comemnts on their web site, it obviously nods at Dooce. I have tried to be even-handed on the moral issues involved.
I would be genuinely grateful for comments before I submit it the BBC, especially on the fatal blog entry:
Well, that’s ruined my day. I got here bang on time (and therefore was the first in the office), to find a panicky email from Genghis Can’t, head of operations, calling me in to an emergency management team meeting this morning. No, I haven’t been admitted into the League of Very Ordinary Gentlemen of which said team is composed; he needed someone who could plug a projector into a laptop for his Powerpoint presentation, and since the company does not currently employ any monkeys trained for the purpose, it fell to me.
So I got to sit in on their deliberations as they faced the takeover crisis. The last to arrive was Teflon Man- nothing sticks to him. As they went through the Action Points from the last meeting, for his, he first denied that it had been assigned to him, and then blamed his staff for not having done it. He formed a partnership with Inaction Man, whose response to any question was to sigh and say “It’s not quite that simple…” The Silver Sofa was sat upon by everybody. He seemed more interested in my cleavage than in the discussion(understandable, perhaps, but the blatancy with which he was doing it was embarrassing, and totally gross). Eventually they agreed that the only solution to the takeover was for all staff holders of company shares to hold on to them, and they drafted a memo to be circulated to that effect. Being a young female in the room, they mistook me for a typist, so I had to write it for them. I was glad to escape back to my desk and get on with some real work, although now that I had seen our leaders up close, I didn’t give much for the long-term survival of the company.
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