原文

A small, black hair man with a freshly tanned complexion and a shabby grey suit stood alone in the elevator. Coming back to work after a vacation was always a depressing business. Fergus Kelly had been pining for his little hotel room in Santa Barbra almost immediately. Well that, and the hot So Cal sun, and the coast and the food... but mostly, he had to admit, it was not being here, in his crummy office job with broken air con and a terrible boss-

Fergus, shifting from one foot on to the other as the elevator travelled up to the marketing floor, paused mid-thought. Oh, that was right. His boss had been sacked. He’d gotten a text from his friend Sam about a day into his vacation. The third boss to go in a year. He silently clenched his fist and smiled. Rob had been an awful manager, somehow even worse than the two he had succeeded. He wouldn’t be missed by the staff, that was for sure, the Vernon Dursley lookalike tyrant. After a moment of quiet satisfaction, another thought hit Fergus. There would be a new boss waiting for him this morning. The fourth boss. He remembered reading that in Japan, four was an unlucky number, much like thirteen in the west. Fergus’s fist unclenched, and he cracked his knuckles, one after the other.

When he got to his floor he tried to gauge the mood of the room. Heads were down, workers either typing away or talking on the phone. This wasn’t a clear indication of anything really-work had just started after all. He checked his watch; it was just after nine. He hurried over to his computer. Sam was already typing away at the next computer. He was a thin, gangly man, like a scarecrow that had brushed up well. He grinned at Fergus as he sat down and mouthed a “hello.” This was a bad sign. Sam was usually a little work-averse, happy to chat and skirt the line with what he could get away with at work. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet.

“Good to be back.” Said Fergus, pulling his office chair up to his desk and flashing his friend a smile. Sam immediately looked around before raising a finger to his lips.

“Shhh! Wade will hear us.” He whispered, before pointing to his screen. He had surreptitiously brought up a little notepad on screen. Nodding, Fergus did the same, before typing a message:

“This is kinda weird.”

“New boss, and she’s a total battle-axe. Not to be effed with.”

“I thought you said Wade? Did you mean Wade Lambert?”

“He’s the boss’s assistant. Poor guy.”

“Assistant? And Wade’s a dick”

“Yeah, but…you’ll see.” Fergus’s brow furrowed. He tried not to type too loud as he tried to understand what was going on.

“You’ll s-”

That was all Sam managed to type before a door pushed open, and out walked Wade Lambert himself, looking decidedly unhappy. He barged past a few startled looking co-workers. As luck would have it, he happened to make eye contact with Fergus, and stopped in front of him. Wade was a large man with a black goatee and dark eyes. He was gruff and blunt, the sort of person who took rudeness for honesty. He had never liked Fergus, and the feeling had been mutual. The big man looked down at the smaller co-worker, and sneered at him.

“Bad luck, Fergus. You’re up.” He said, tilting his head at the open door. It leads into the manager’s office.

“Eh?”

“I quit. Boss wants a new assistant, and you’re it.”

“But-“

“I’d get in quick if I were you. She’s something else…”

Wade promptly pushed past the baffled office worker, before storming right out of the room. Everyone working craned their heads, watching the burly grump make his exit. Then, slowly, all heads swivelled until they were facing Fergus. It had gotten very quiet all of a sudden. He felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead.

“Tough luck, man.” Said Sam, shaking his head. “Hope she’s a little easier on you than Wade.”

“Jesus, Sam, who did we hire, Cersei Lannister?”

“I don’t watch that show.”

“You’re letting me down here, Sam.”

“Don’t panic, man, just don’t be a tool like Wade. Play it smart, keep calm, ok?” Fergus took a few deep breaths to pump himself up. “OK, anything I should know before I go in?” he asked. Sam hesitated.

“Nah, she’s just kind of a jerk. You can deal with that though.”

“You’re right. I eat jerks for breakfast.”

“That sounds unhealthy.”

“Please respect my lifestyle choices. OK, here I go…” He got up, walked a few yards, then stopped.

“And you don’t all have to watch me go, you’re making me nervous!” he said, addressing the room at large. Everyone present suddenly got back to work, the sound of keyboards chattering filling the air. Taking another deep breath, Fergus cautiously approached the door to the manager’s office and knocked on the door. There was no reply.

“Hello?” he said. It occurred to him that he had forgotten to ask the new boss’s name. Well, too late now. He poked his head in through the door. “I was told that you would be-“

He gasped. Then he put his hand over his mouth, not knowing how to react. Sitting on a comfortable looking swivel chair was a woman, dressed in a buttoned up grey suit and skirt combination. She had a sizeable bust, with a hint of a red bra poking out towards the centre of her chest. This was the biggest and most obvious clue that the new manager was female, as she was missing her head. Where a human head should have been, there was only a metallic looking disc sitting on her neck stump, a green light flashing occasionally. Her arms and legs were also totally absent; her suit jacket didn’t even have any sleeves, and her skirt was tucked in underneath her hips. She sat perfectly still, betraying no sign that she had even heard Fergus enter the room, her chest rising and falling the only sign of life. This was the dreaded new boss?

He stood there, halfway inside the room, looking at the living torso who had apparently terrorised the office these past two weeks. Fergus look back out at the office, looking for some sign that he had just fallen victim to an elaborate prank, but everyone had their heads down, working away. He walked into the manager’s room, shut the door behind him, and walked up to the chair’s occupant. She still did not move. Could she even talk? Did she even have any senses?

“Can you hear me?” he asked. There was no reply. Fergus started to feel faintly ridiculous. What was he supposed to do here, tap Morse code onto her shoulder and hope for the best? Feeling like he had no other option, he gently reached a hand out and, taking care not to startle her, patted his new boss on the shoulder. There was a palpable reaction; she squirmed very slightly before going still again. Then there was a vibrating noise on the desk to her side. Fergus saw a small, cheap looking mobile phone, the sort of cheap throwaway ones you used to see. He went over an picked it up. There was a new message:

Hmph. You took your time. Name?

The letters showed up in that exact style: heavy and bold, black lettering on a white background. Fergus looked at the screen, then back at the woman in the chair. He stared had at her. Had she just sent him a text? A few seconds later, the phone vibrated again, signalling a new message.

Hello? Urgh, the last guy did this as well. Yes, I’m talking to you, you dolt. Text me back.

The messages were coming far faster than any normal human could text by hand. Not having time to sit and ponder the mechanics behind it, he quickly fumbled out a reply.

“Hello my name is Fergus” he texted. He only had to wait a few seconds for a reply.

You’re my new assistant. From now on, I say and you do. Got it?

“Yes”

Good. Now go get me a coffee. Black.

Fergus hesitated. There was an obvious question to ask here… his fingers worked around the keypad again.

“Sorry but how do you drink?”

Through my butt.

“Really?” he texted back. The torso wiggled in her seat as a reply was sent to the cell phone.

No, obviously not you absolute dolt. There’s a hatch on my collar. Pour it down there, genius. Chop chop! Consider yourself under review!

Bewildered, Fergus stumbled out of the manager’s office, heading past his co-workers. As he passed his old desk, he heard a snigger.

“Thanks for the heads up, Sam”

“Hahaha. Well there was no head to give you a heads up about.”

“Piss off.”

A quick trip to the coffee machine later, Fergus sped back to the office with a fresh cup of black coffee. He picked up the phone in one hand and texted out a quick message.

“ok bk got ur coffee” he text. Then he put the phone down, although not fast enough to avoid the latest message.

Never type like that again. Now let me have that caffeine hit.

Putting the cup down for now, he walked over to the limbless, headless woman in the chair, examining her collar. There was, it turns out, two holes on top. One was covered with a mesh, and he could see it moving and rippling. He put a hand over it and felt her warm breath. The other hole was covered by a hatch, as she had said. He pressed a small grey button and it sprung open. Looking down it, he saw the dark red of her throat. He marvelled for a second and what he was seeing. It felt oddly intimate, peering down the open throat of a woman he’d only just met…

The phone vibrated again, spurring him into action. “Yeah, yeah…” he said to himself, grabbing the cup of now slightly cool coffee. He carefully poured some of it down the little hole, watching it disappear into the darkness. The torso twitched a little, and there was another message from the cell phone.

Don’t just tip it down my throat at once! It’s hot!

“Sorry!” blurted out Fergus, before remembering that his boss was effectively deaf. He quickly texted an apology before slowing the pace of his pouring down. There was no visible tongue, which meant that she probably couldn’t even taste the coffee- as she had said, this was probably just a caffeine hit for her. Was this how his day was going t go? Standing over a quintuple amputee-which was a thing now apparently- and pouring drinks down their neck? As it turned out, that was as peaceful as things got.

Now start up my computer. If you can even manage that. We’ve got work to do.

She shifted around in her seat, as if getting comfortable. Then she sent another text.

You’ve not even asked my name. How rude.

Crap, I totally forgot! Thought Fergus, before hastily grabbing the phone.

“Apologies. What is your name?”

Karen. Karen Clyne.

“Hello Karen.”

Is the computer on yet?

“It’s starting up”

Tell me when it’s on, then. And don’t call me Karen. I’m your boss, remember?

“Yes, Mrs Clyne.”

Ms. Clyne. Pull me up too, I feel like I’m about to slide off this cheap chair. Actually, mental note: order better office chair.

No wonder Wade only lasted two weeks of this…

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