Spaghetti Marketing
by Randolph O. Mann
Linda screamed into the phone, "Randy, We need to talk!”
“I will be right in there, Boss!” Quickly Randy returned his phone to its cradle and grabbed his note pad, pencil and Linda’s morning coffee before scurrying past Courtney’s empty desk and into Linda Browne’s private office.
Linda was livid. “Nephew or no nephew, Randolph, you have really gone way too far this time! I am appalled and I do not care if this costs me my position here at T. Winston, INC. This kind of abuse is totally uncalled for and I am putting my foot down! I demand a full and adequate justification for this! Or one of us is losing their job. So, Mister Randolph, what do you have to say about this?”
“To say about what, Ms. Browne?”
“Don’t play that ‘innocent card’ again, Randy. Just explain why my secretary is totally naked and glued to my brand new mahogany desk."
A quick pivot of Randy’s head established that his wildest imaginations had achieved substance as he gazed upon a sight that had only been the subject matter of wishful conjecture around the water-cooler in the break room. The wicked smirk that enveloped Randy’s maw betrayed his enthusiasm upon discovering the naked female frame of sweet Courtney straddled across Linda’s brand new Traditional Hardwood U-Shaped Executive Workstation.
Randy sighed, “May the gods be praised!”
An excruciatingly measured assessment of lovable Courtney’s erotically sited fixtures confirmed that she was indeed an immovable victim, presently revealed and securely attached to both the stylish wooden countertop and the prized Persian carpet-runner. Fastened with superglue at the soles of her feet and the palms of her hands, the endearing Courtney was displayed in an extremely vulnerable circumstance and clad in only the flush from her awkward experience. Randy’s meticulously slow examination was designed to ingrain Courtney’s totally nude image into his mind’s eye. Barefoot and ‘Coppertone’ tanned from her head to her toe, pretty Courtney sported alabaster silhouettes delineating everywhere her razor had recently visited while outlining the surreptitious regions where swimwear can usually be expected to be found.
Courtney snarled, “Take a picture Randolph. It will last longer.”
“I am sure it would, and the negatives would also serve as persuasive stimulus for blackmail too, my lovely. Thank you for the naughty suggestion, Courtney.”
“Linda! For God’s sake you have to stop him, please!”
Randy chided, “Now, now, Courtney. Let’s leave Divine Intervention out of this.”
Linda ordered, “Randy, behave yourself! Courtney is amply bothered by this unfortunate episode.”
“Ok, But how in the heck did this ever happen?”
“How did this happen? Listen, Mister, that is the question I brought you in here to answer. I know this has to be one of your ‘strip-off scams’.”
“I only wish! Unfortunately this is not my work, but I am impressed! Who ever pulled this off is good! Really good! I am a fan!”
“What do you mean, ‘not your work’?”
“Exactly that! I am not guilty of flaunting this ‘sexy thing’ in this manner, although, if I had ‘stuck it' to Courtney like this, I guarantee it would have cost those depraved individuals in the Shipping Department a fortune. Such maladjusted chaps would have happily parted with some ‘serious change’ for an encore presentation of this ‘charming piece’ undressed. All I can tell you Linda, separating Courtney from her threads in this way would have scored some ‘big time’ bucks.”
“Then if you did not victimize Courtney, who did?”
Courtney objected, “Hey you two, I am right here and can hear everything you guys are saying!”
Linda replied, “Sorry Courtney, we meant no harm, its just...you know? We are only trying to get to the bottom, I mean..."
“Oh never mind, Linda! Just get me detached before everyone at T. Winston, INC gets wind of this and makes excuses to stop in for an eyeful.”
“Ok Randy, if you did not pull this off then who did?”
“Dammed if I know, Linda.”
“Well, just give us your best guess then.”
“If I were to speculate I would say a ‘Copycat-Skinner’."
“There are more like you out there?”
Courtney screeched, “Eeeewe!”
Randy said, “This ‘perp' is not in my league by any stretch of the imagination, but yes, there are others.”
While the full impact of Randy’s statement registered, both Linda and Randy stared in awed wonder upon pretty Courtney’s out of the ordinary predicament, admiring the brilliance such an undertaking would involve. Upon closer observation they found Courtney’s lovely ensemble was plastered all about the office in a very sticky burlesque fashion that ultimately left the embarrassed Courtney fully exposed and firmly affixed in her bowed pose.
Courtney pleaded, "Hello, could I get a little help here?”
“Randy, if we have dueling ‘Skinners’ this is a problem. I need your best deductive reasoning concerning as to who might be responsible for this abuse.”
"I do have some thoughts.”
“Then could you please enlighten us, ‘Sherlock’.”
“That would be elementary ‘Doctor’. This recklessness was obviously accomplished by a very calculating, seasoned, one hundred fifteen pound, quick-witted, spiteful, currently employed, left handed, female member of the T. Winston, INC south campus staff, with a chip on her shoulder.”
“How could you possibly know all that?”
“From my vigilant assessment of the objects found in this room."
Linda scoffed, “That is total BS, ‘Holmes’.”
Courtney added,“Ya, total bull shit!”
Randy pontificated, “Here, I will show you, my dear ‘Watson’. First off, by simply retracing Courtney’s morning ritual, we can infer the perpetrator’s familiarity with the existing office schedule in and around the Merchandising and Sales Department that allowed the application of a quick acting adhesive with such predicable accuracy. This type of workplace fluency could only have been obtained from a continuing daily association, and thus demonstrates our perpetrator’s extensive and contemporary employment history. Then when I found Courtney’s right glove was glued to the light switch where she was forced to abandon it after pulling her naked hand free I was able to deduce the perpetrator’s adroit improvisational skill in promptly adapting to the unexpected showers this morning, which anticipated the employment of foul weather paraphernalia.
"Next, based upon the ‘epoxy-resin-splatter-angle’ I spotted dripping from the inner office privacy door where Courtney was required to abandon her raincoat after pasting it in place when she nudged the door closed with her left elbow, I was able to utilize triangulation to establish the perpetrator’s height at about five feet six inches and justify my appropriately applied ‘southpaw’ moniker.
"With Courtney now deprived of her rain gear the perpetrator envisioned how our astounded secretary would hurriedly step around the new piece of office furniture before ‘parking’ herself in Linda’s chair to launch the computer. In so doing, Courtney would find the seat and back of her handsome shirt-waist dress simultaneously attached to the chair cushions in such an awkward fashion that a very shrewd woman could predict Courtney’s ‘abundant’ bust would provide the opportunity for her recently uncovered bra-cups to make contact with the pre-glued computer keyboard. Here they held fast during her struggles to extract herself from the limiting confines of her clothing.
"My understanding of Courtney’s angst upon losing custody of her dress and her supporting halter, which exposed her impressive mammary wealth, led me to consider the cramped access under Linda’s new workstation, where Courtney had naively glued her shoes to the carpet protector after sliding her shapely legs under the deck in order to make a predictable attempt to alert Security via e-mail. This detailed analysis facilitated my approximation of the perpetrator’s girth. It was from this rushed assessment of mass that I combined with my earlier presumed height and was able to infer a weight of 115 pounds.
"I believe that since she was now wearing only a glove and a flimsy pair of panties a panicky Courtney, true to form, would be required to rest her bottom upon the desk after standing and turning to inspect the high-backed chair that had ensnared her dress. Here Courtney would regrettably enmesh her lacy knickers into the middle of a waiting puddle of glue on this ink mat just as our vengeful perpetrator had planned.
"Clad in this skimpy ‘Michael Jackson one glove style’, Courtney unavoidably lost her sticky mitten when forced to reach between her spread legs in hopes of finding a pair of scissors with which to carve her escape from the confines of the frantic secretary’s now very ‘stationary’ underwear. After snipping away at the side panels of her frilly tap-pants a very naked Courtney would slide across and side-roll over the top of Linda’s new workstation before inadvertently placing her bare soles into the waiting pond of toluene-based, brain-cell killing, contact cement that would steadfastly affix a befuddled Courtney to the carpet in hopeless fashion.
"Trapped in this naked state just as the perpetrator had envisioned, Courtney would throw caution to the wind in attempting to summon help by stretching for the telephone on Linda’s new desk, unfortunately just out of her reach. The instability of Courtney’s shaky balance would make it an easy guess that she would overextend while grabbing for the phone, and thus unavoidably fall into the pair of loitering pools of superglue. And that is exactly how Katherine Webster intended for us to find poor Courtney displayed."
Courtney exclaimed, “Katherine? No shit, Sherlock! I hate her!”
Linda asked skeptically, “We are now to believe that you deduced all of that from what you observed in this office?”
“Yes ...and from the Instant Message I just received on my Blackberry from Katherine Webster, which claimed full responsibility for this crime and prematurely commiserated with me on the occasion of my sacking from T. Winston, INC."
The End