“That stupid bitch!” roared Mike as he stormed into his office bouncing the door on its hinges and kicking the rubbish bin across the floor spreading rubbish everywhere.
Jimmy looked up in shock at the outrage and nearly spat his coffee across the table. He’d never seen Mike so mad.
“What’s going on?” Mike asked.
“That stupid bitch,” Mike repeated as he pointed towards the main office also known amongst the drivers as Bullshit Castle, “has made me redundant because I refused to pick up her bloody kid when I passed the little prick hitchhiking last week.”
“What? She can’t do that!”
“Well, of course that’s not the reason she threw up, even she’s not stupid enough to try that crap.”
“She still can’t afford to get rid of you, not since she pushed John and Paul out. You’re the only bloody mechanic servicing a forty truck fleet. How the bloody hell can the stupid bitch make you redundant?”
“She fed me some bullshit about moving too an outside service agent to cut costs. She reckons she can sell off all the workshop gear, off load the staff and that’s going to save the company money. The only reason this place needs to save money is so Megalomania Mole over there can keep her cozy little beach house and keep driving that bloody Mercedes.”
“Mate I’m sorry, is there something the Magsy can do?” Replied Jimmy, referring to the Union Representative supposedly put in place to fight for the worker’s rights.
“Nah, Magsy the useless prick was there while the bitch fired me; Union says they’ve done everything above board.” He paused for several seconds, “Honestly mate I’m a little relieved. I never wanted to lose my job but working in this place has become a nightmare since Megalomania Mole took over.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Mike thought about it for a few seconds and replied, “I dunno, but I guarantee nothing other than serious maintenance issues are getting fixed over the next four weeks. I’ll keep the trucks safe, I’ll keep them on the road and I’ll look after the drivers but anything else can go to hell in the same hand basket as that bitch over.”
Mike had managed to surf the web, download a heap of music on the company internet connection, make a few calls to mates about possible jobs and have an extended lunch break by mid afternoon when he spotted Tracey making her way towards the workshop. ‘Probably delivering the redundancy papers,’ Mike thought as she entered the workshop and headed straight for his office.
“The redundancy starts in four weeks not today, therefore you should be fixing that truck instead of sitting on your arse on company time?” Tracey grumbled as she flicked her hand towards the red Kenworth parked over the open mechanics pit.
Mike remained silent as Tracey threw the paperwork down on his desk nearly spilling his coffee. “If you can spell your name sign those and return them to the office by tomorrow and maybe you’ll get to see out your four weeks you lazy shit!”
As she turned and walked away Mike called out. “If you keep that over paid fat arse out of my workshop then maybe I’ll do some work, lord knows someone around here has to. Since you and your cronies took over Bullshit Castle the only work you’ve done is work out new ways to piss off the staff and cut corners.”
“How dare you speak…”
“How dare I speak the bloody truth?” Mike interrupted.
The shock at being spoken to in such a way could not be hidden. Because working at Oven’s Transport was her first management role, a role she’d brought with her inheritance rather than earned, she didn’t really have any experience in dealing with staff but she was sure employees shouldn’t speak to management in such harsh tones. That combined with the fact that she had never been quick with comebacks meant that she had no idea how to react to Mike’s outburst. But Mike did.
He rose from his chair, exited his office and made a beeline towards his workshop bench. He then reached for the shelf above the bench grabbed the old jam jar of diesel he’d been using to soak grime off some nuts and bolts and turned towards Tracey, who was still standing like a fox caught in a search light in the middle of the workshop.
Faking a trip as he approached her was all part of Mike’s act and he did his best to stay upright while holding onto the jar ensuring its direction was correct. The well aimed contents splashed over Tracey’s cream jacket and her white blouse leaving a wonderful dark brown stain. The liquid then dropped down onto her tight black leather skirt before dripping onto her white nylon stockings and white designer high heels.
As the dirty liquid that didn’t soak into Tracey’s clothes dripped onto the floor at her feet Mike stumbled to an upright position, held back a smile and said, “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”
“You did that on purpose you moron. You’ve just ruined a $1500 outfit.” growled Tracey as she tried in vain to wipe away the mess staining her clothes.
“It was an accident.” Mike replied as innocently as he could manage.
“You’ll pay for this mess you dickhead.” Tracey screamed as she stormed towards her office.
“Working for the Megalomania Mole I’ve already paid for it!” But she was well out of ear shot and Mike was laughing heartedly.
By the knock off time Tracey had delivered Mike an invoice for $1500, claiming that her outfit was totally ruined and he was required to pay for it. It was at that time Mike decided that Tracey was going to pay and pay a lot more than the value of some overpriced outfit that made a woman look like a cheap hooker.
Finding her house wasn’t an issue, Mike drove past it most nights on his way home from work but seeing her son leave in a cab on his second drive by was pure luck, luck which Mike was not going to pass up.
It was dark by the time he’d parked his ute and walked the several blocks back to Tracey’s house. He stood at the end of the driveway for a few seconds surveying the area, then crept towards the lounge room window. The vertical blinds had been left slightly open and he could see inside but what greeted him nearly had him gagging.
He saw was Tracey in all her glory bent over, hands on knees, gasping for breath. Her spandex body suit hugged her oversized hips and flabby legs. She wore a G-string over the body suit which was wedged firmly in her butt crack and there were damp patches of sweat in spots Mike didn’t want to think about. She looked like she’d just finished a workout although from the look of her Mike was sure that whatever had happened it wasn’t working out.
In the glow from the window Mike did a quick search through the garden bed beside the driveway and selected three small rocks, he then made his way to the front door. There was no security door so Mike crept up the two porch steps, banged loudly on the middle of the wooden door, then darted for cover behind the hedge bordering Tracey and her neighbors’ driveways.
Immediately after the porch light illuminated Tracey opened the door. Seeing nobody standing before her she stepped out onto the landing and looked around. The first rock hit her left shoulder. Mike quietly cursed his aim, then in quick succession the second and third struck, one in the chin and one in the center of her forehead.
They weren’t large rocks but they were enough to break the skin and peering low through the hedge Mike could see there was something he could only assume was blood trickling through Tracey’s fingers as she held her forehead.
Tracey cursed loudly into the darkness and although she looked around her front yard she saw nothing. Remaining crouched behind the hedge and hoping Tracey’s outburst did not alert the neighbors’ Mike smirked and held back his laughter. After less than a minute a pissed off Tracey disappeared back inside still holding her head. The moment Mike heard the door shut he made his move, staying low and in the shadows he darted across the neighbors’ yard and back to his car.