John Quo joined Babbitry Incorporated straight out of college and felt lucky to have done so. In the abysmal economy getting any job was noteworthy, let alone assistant manager of TBS reporting at a company such as Babbitry Inc.
His first day he was shown his cubicle introduced to his team and told about the TBS reports. It would take him two weeks to get a computer with access to do what he needed.
When he finally got his laptop and began to work he found the world of TBS reporting overwhelming. He had a team of twenty to support a user base of about eighty-five consumers of the TBS reports. In essence he had a hundred and five bosses. And the reports were perplexing. There were so many numbers and so many ways to slice and dice them that John couldn't make heads or tails of any report. Nonetheless there was always someone that wanted some variation of a TBS report done ASAP. And whenever he would have his team deliver the report version they had asked for the requestor would always come back with "This isn't what I asked for!" Being a good assistant manager John engaged his boss, Bill.
"Yeah, they do that." Bill said in a tired voice when John complained about being thrown under the bus for the tenth time in a week for doing exactly as he was asked.
John asked for guidance. "Just don't be late. The TBS reports are very important." was all Bill said.
"I was thinking of having them document exactly what they want on the report before I accept a change request." John posited.
Bill just laughed and said, "Yeah, have fun with that."
John was undeterred. Bill was just an loser who didn't care about anything.
John spent the next two days building a change request form. What ended up happening was that people would come and ask for more changes and when John poinited them to the change request form they'd simply not fill it out. John refused to have his team make any changes without any filled out forms. That lasted a day.
"Why didn't you make the changes that Jenny asked for?!" John's director yelled at him.
"She didn't fill out a form." John replied.
"What form? Why does she have to fill out a form?" The director jabbed.
"Because every time she asks me to make a change we make the change and then she complains that we made the change she was asking for."
"No forms!" The director screamed and continued. "You might not appreciate how important these TBS reports are, but they are VERY important.If you get in the way of them you will have a very short stay at Babbitry Incorporated."
John left the office dejected. He sulked through the parking lot to his car, opened his door, climbed in and nearly had a heart attack. In the passenger seat was a disheveld old man in a thread bare suit. His long white beard ran over a tatter red tie. On his lap there was an old suitcase.
"I am not here to harm you John Quo." The old man said.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my car?" John stammered.
"You work on the TBS reports don't you John? That was a good bit with the change request form." The old man said.
"What? How do you know about that?"
"The TBS reports are very important John. Nothing happens with them in secret."
John froze for a few seconds. The man knew about the TBS reports. He probably wanted a copy of them. They were so important John bet that Babbitry's competitors would do anything to get them.
"I wont give you access to the TBS reports." John said feigning bravery.
The old man laughed, the laughs rattled in his chest. "I don't want your reports John." He said when the laugther subsided.
"What do you want?"
"You're a good kid John. Just out of college wanting to do the right thing. That bit with the change request form was a smart move. I want to help you John." The old man said.
It was John's turn to laugh. "What could you do to help me?"
"See this briefcase?" The old man gestured to the case on his lap, "Any idea what's inside?"
"No."
"It's the original design specifications for the TBS reports." The old man whispered after looking around to be sure there was no one around.
"Those designs are out on the company sharepoint."
"Have you read those? They're full of technical jargon and confusing diagrams. They're intentionally obfuscative. You've seen them. You know they're undescernable."
John had to admit the old man had a point.
"These are the original design specifications. They tell exactly how the reports were designed and what they really do. All. Right. Here." The old man said tapping the brief case at each of the three last words for emphasis.
"So what? You built the reports?" John asked.
"No that was Van Tutte."
"The CFO?"
"Yes. Van Tutte. He brought in a consulting firm to build the inital release. And these were their documents."
"OK, so why give them to me?"
The old man shifted the case and held the handle end up to John's face exposing the lock.
"This lock can only be opened by Van Tutte's case key. He keeps it in his supply closet. I need you to go in and get it." He said.
John knew the closet. He could do it. John reached out a hand and quickly took it away.
"Wait. What do you care?" John asked
"You think you're the first assistant manager of TBS reporting? I devoted twelve years to those damned reports and when I started to suspect what they were really for they demoted me. They fired me the day I managed to steal this case. I'm fairly certain I know the truth but I just need proof. Proof you can get me."
John thought about his options. He knew that if he did not take the briefcase he would end up like the old man next to him. Always wondering what was in it. John closed his hand on handle.
Getting to the Van Tutte's supply closet was surpringly easy. He simply told Van Tutte's secretary that he needed some supplies for a special TBS report requirement. The secretary let him in without question. The key was hidden under a red stapler exactly where they old man had told him. Eagerly John unlocked the case and pulled out a manilla envelope full of papers.
"TBS Reporting Specifications." The title page read.
John began to flip through the pages, his eyes widening with each new page. T.B.S. was defined in bright red letters. Total BullShit screamed at John from the paper.
"I see you've done me the favor of returning my briefcase to me Mr. Quo." A voice snapped John's attention.
John looked up, "Cosi Van Tutte." He said acknowledging the CFO standing in front of him by name.
"Now if you'll just hand it over."
"Total Bull Shit. TBS Reports. You just made it all up." John said anger growing within him. Months he had endured yelling, shame, scorn and being made to feel an idiot for reports that meant nothing.
"Yes. I did." Van Tutte said playing with his company badge at his belt. He'd pull out the badge on a string and let it snap back. Pull it out and let it snap back.
"Why?"
"Power Mr. Quo. I needed to be promoted by our lovely Scheisse, our lovely CEO, wouldn't promote me. He said that I didn't have enough subordinates."
"So you created an impossibly complicated report that no one could dicipher just to pad your team? You're terrible."
"Terrible Mr. Quo? I'm a job creator. Your job being one of them, actually."
"But it's worthless. You're wasting stockholder money."
"Have you seen our financials Mr. Quo? They're very strong. Thanks largely to my leadership. View the TBS reports as part of my salary."
"When the company starts doing badly you'll be gone."
"Will I Mr. Quo? Why then all I have to do is come up with a simpler report that only takes five people to support and lay off the TBS reporting team and I'll be a hero. As a matter of fact I'll probably get promoted to CEO for saving the company so much money." Van Tutte said.
"No you wont. I have your secret. I'll tell everyone." John said holding the design documents to his chest.
"And that is why you must die." Van Tutte reached for his security card at his belt and pull it away from it's holder showing a thin garrotting wire.
John grabbed the red stapler, sprung the bottom away and began firing staples at Van Tutte's face. Van Tutte screamed and grabbed at his face. John pushed past the man and ran out into the cubicle farm beyond. He found security waiting for him. He tried to fire more staples at the guards but he was all out. He turned and ran.
"TBS stands for total bullshit! TBS stands for total bullshit!" John screamed clutching the design specs to his chest.
John didn't see the security guard that tackled him. Nor did he see the wastebasket that knocked him unconcious in the fall.
Patient Quo awoke in a hospital room with a splitting headache. On his chest was a pink slip. He didn't need to look at it to know what it was. In the corner of the room was the dishevled old man that had given him the case.
"So?" The old man asked.
Quo rubbed his head, "It stands for Total BullShit." He replied with a groan.
"I knew it!" The old man said with a little jump of victory and then tossed a bag full of clothes at John.
"Ow! What was that for?" John asked.
"The cops are with Van Tutte right now, they'll be coming to arrest you any minute. We need to get you out of here." The old man said like he was explaining to a five year old.
"You want me to escape from the hospital while the cops are looking for me? Why would I do that?"
The old man walked towards Quo and set down something on the bedside table. A bright red stapler.
"Escape to take down van Tutte." The old man said.
Quo grabbed the red stapler, looked at the old man and uttered two words.
"Let's go."
His first day he was shown his cubicle introduced to his team and told about the TBS reports. It would take him two weeks to get a computer with access to do what he needed.
When he finally got his laptop and began to work he found the world of TBS reporting overwhelming. He had a team of twenty to support a user base of about eighty-five consumers of the TBS reports. In essence he had a hundred and five bosses. And the reports were perplexing. There were so many numbers and so many ways to slice and dice them that John couldn't make heads or tails of any report. Nonetheless there was always someone that wanted some variation of a TBS report done ASAP. And whenever he would have his team deliver the report version they had asked for the requestor would always come back with "This isn't what I asked for!" Being a good assistant manager John engaged his boss, Bill.
"Yeah, they do that." Bill said in a tired voice when John complained about being thrown under the bus for the tenth time in a week for doing exactly as he was asked.
John asked for guidance. "Just don't be late. The TBS reports are very important." was all Bill said.
"I was thinking of having them document exactly what they want on the report before I accept a change request." John posited.
Bill just laughed and said, "Yeah, have fun with that."
John was undeterred. Bill was just an loser who didn't care about anything.
John spent the next two days building a change request form. What ended up happening was that people would come and ask for more changes and when John poinited them to the change request form they'd simply not fill it out. John refused to have his team make any changes without any filled out forms. That lasted a day.
"Why didn't you make the changes that Jenny asked for?!" John's director yelled at him.
"She didn't fill out a form." John replied.
"What form? Why does she have to fill out a form?" The director jabbed.
"Because every time she asks me to make a change we make the change and then she complains that we made the change she was asking for."
"No forms!" The director screamed and continued. "You might not appreciate how important these TBS reports are, but they are VERY important.If you get in the way of them you will have a very short stay at Babbitry Incorporated."
John left the office dejected. He sulked through the parking lot to his car, opened his door, climbed in and nearly had a heart attack. In the passenger seat was a disheveld old man in a thread bare suit. His long white beard ran over a tatter red tie. On his lap there was an old suitcase.
"I am not here to harm you John Quo." The old man said.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my car?" John stammered.
"You work on the TBS reports don't you John? That was a good bit with the change request form." The old man said.
"What? How do you know about that?"
"The TBS reports are very important John. Nothing happens with them in secret."
John froze for a few seconds. The man knew about the TBS reports. He probably wanted a copy of them. They were so important John bet that Babbitry's competitors would do anything to get them.
"I wont give you access to the TBS reports." John said feigning bravery.
The old man laughed, the laughs rattled in his chest. "I don't want your reports John." He said when the laugther subsided.
"What do you want?"
"You're a good kid John. Just out of college wanting to do the right thing. That bit with the change request form was a smart move. I want to help you John." The old man said.
It was John's turn to laugh. "What could you do to help me?"
"See this briefcase?" The old man gestured to the case on his lap, "Any idea what's inside?"
"No."
"It's the original design specifications for the TBS reports." The old man whispered after looking around to be sure there was no one around.
"Those designs are out on the company sharepoint."
"Have you read those? They're full of technical jargon and confusing diagrams. They're intentionally obfuscative. You've seen them. You know they're undescernable."
John had to admit the old man had a point.
"These are the original design specifications. They tell exactly how the reports were designed and what they really do. All. Right. Here." The old man said tapping the brief case at each of the three last words for emphasis.
"So what? You built the reports?" John asked.
"No that was Van Tutte."
"The CFO?"
"Yes. Van Tutte. He brought in a consulting firm to build the inital release. And these were their documents."
"OK, so why give them to me?"
The old man shifted the case and held the handle end up to John's face exposing the lock.
"This lock can only be opened by Van Tutte's case key. He keeps it in his supply closet. I need you to go in and get it." He said.
John knew the closet. He could do it. John reached out a hand and quickly took it away.
"Wait. What do you care?" John asked
"You think you're the first assistant manager of TBS reporting? I devoted twelve years to those damned reports and when I started to suspect what they were really for they demoted me. They fired me the day I managed to steal this case. I'm fairly certain I know the truth but I just need proof. Proof you can get me."
John thought about his options. He knew that if he did not take the briefcase he would end up like the old man next to him. Always wondering what was in it. John closed his hand on handle.
Getting to the Van Tutte's supply closet was surpringly easy. He simply told Van Tutte's secretary that he needed some supplies for a special TBS report requirement. The secretary let him in without question. The key was hidden under a red stapler exactly where they old man had told him. Eagerly John unlocked the case and pulled out a manilla envelope full of papers.
"TBS Reporting Specifications." The title page read.
John began to flip through the pages, his eyes widening with each new page. T.B.S. was defined in bright red letters. Total BullShit screamed at John from the paper.
"I see you've done me the favor of returning my briefcase to me Mr. Quo." A voice snapped John's attention.
John looked up, "Cosi Van Tutte." He said acknowledging the CFO standing in front of him by name.
"Now if you'll just hand it over."
"Total Bull Shit. TBS Reports. You just made it all up." John said anger growing within him. Months he had endured yelling, shame, scorn and being made to feel an idiot for reports that meant nothing.
"Yes. I did." Van Tutte said playing with his company badge at his belt. He'd pull out the badge on a string and let it snap back. Pull it out and let it snap back.
"Why?"
"Power Mr. Quo. I needed to be promoted by our lovely Scheisse, our lovely CEO, wouldn't promote me. He said that I didn't have enough subordinates."
"So you created an impossibly complicated report that no one could dicipher just to pad your team? You're terrible."
"Terrible Mr. Quo? I'm a job creator. Your job being one of them, actually."
"But it's worthless. You're wasting stockholder money."
"Have you seen our financials Mr. Quo? They're very strong. Thanks largely to my leadership. View the TBS reports as part of my salary."
"When the company starts doing badly you'll be gone."
"Will I Mr. Quo? Why then all I have to do is come up with a simpler report that only takes five people to support and lay off the TBS reporting team and I'll be a hero. As a matter of fact I'll probably get promoted to CEO for saving the company so much money." Van Tutte said.
"No you wont. I have your secret. I'll tell everyone." John said holding the design documents to his chest.
"And that is why you must die." Van Tutte reached for his security card at his belt and pull it away from it's holder showing a thin garrotting wire.
John grabbed the red stapler, sprung the bottom away and began firing staples at Van Tutte's face. Van Tutte screamed and grabbed at his face. John pushed past the man and ran out into the cubicle farm beyond. He found security waiting for him. He tried to fire more staples at the guards but he was all out. He turned and ran.
"TBS stands for total bullshit! TBS stands for total bullshit!" John screamed clutching the design specs to his chest.
John didn't see the security guard that tackled him. Nor did he see the wastebasket that knocked him unconcious in the fall.
Patient Quo awoke in a hospital room with a splitting headache. On his chest was a pink slip. He didn't need to look at it to know what it was. In the corner of the room was the dishevled old man that had given him the case.
"So?" The old man asked.
Quo rubbed his head, "It stands for Total BullShit." He replied with a groan.
"I knew it!" The old man said with a little jump of victory and then tossed a bag full of clothes at John.
"Ow! What was that for?" John asked.
"The cops are with Van Tutte right now, they'll be coming to arrest you any minute. We need to get you out of here." The old man said like he was explaining to a five year old.
"You want me to escape from the hospital while the cops are looking for me? Why would I do that?"
The old man walked towards Quo and set down something on the bedside table. A bright red stapler.
"Escape to take down van Tutte." The old man said.
Quo grabbed the red stapler, looked at the old man and uttered two words.
"Let's go."
