%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Fiction >> Comedy >> ID #500851 |   |
| |||||||||||||
|
Phoenix Falling A company emerged from nowhere with virtually nothing to make it great and rose to the pinnacle of success. Then at the height of that success, it entered a death spiral into the nothing from whence it came. Left in its wake was only tragedy and wreckage among those who labored in it with a view of climbing the corporate ladder and/or invested their life savings in it to insure a comfortable retirement. It was a story that had heady success and tragic consequences. This is a fictionalized account of that fall. The characters in this story are not intended to accurately parody the participants in the real drama. They were simply innocent bystanders that got dragged into this story. ****** *** ****** The intercom on Mrs. Dragonfly’s desk, beeped to life. “Oh Miz Dragonfly.” “Yes, Mr. Lightenbug?” the executive secretary answered as she lifted the receiver from the cradle. “Mr. Bumblebee of FlyWell Wireless is coming by to discuss our merger. When he comes, get him a cup of coffee and let him cool his wings for a while,” said Lightenbug, the CEO and founder of MIC WorldBum. “Yes, sir,” she answered. “Now, he’s a little pushy. Likes to throw his weight around, if you know what I mean,” he warned. “He’ll want to come right in, but keep him there for a while. OK?” “Oh, I hate it when those pushy, arrogant, know-it-alls come flying in here,” she complained. “Don’t worry, Dragonfly, you can handle him. That’s why I hired you. You’ve got the wingspan to handle anybody,” he complimented. “Just give him some coffee and put him in his place.” “Yes, sir,” she responded returning the receiver to its cradle. Lightenbug turned his attention back to his work on his desk. As he leafed through a file, he noticed some of the early documents from the company. These were papers that went back to the beginnings. “Wow!” he thought, “I’ve come a long way. Who would have thought a schoolteacher could have leveraged a small sideline business into a mega-giant corporation doing billions of dollars in business on an international scale? Only me! I remember that little long distance company, LPPD, and how we fought to get it going. Now, we’re big and powerful and we’re going to control the communications world. A couple more mergers and we might take over Guatemala and then maybe France or Britain. I must be brilliant to accomplish all this. Hey, I got a light on my tail and it looks good. It turns heads and every time it blinks, it attracts business. I’m the man! I’m the bug! I’m the LIGHTENBUG!” “What is that smell?” he said out loud as the side door to his office began to open. “Oh, good Lord, Tumblebug, must you always be rolling that ball of, of, of…” “For crying out loud, Lightenbug. I’m a tumblebug and that’s what we do. Besides, I’m an accountant, too, and we accountants deal with this stuff all the time. You know, we count it, organize it, file it and spread it around on the proper forms,” he said. “Well, spray it with something,” suggested Lightenbug, holding his nose. “Make it not quite so obnoxious.” “There’s not much you can do to disguise it,” he said, “Besides, the smell is part of the attraction. It’s a chemical thing.” “Well, I’m glad it’s you and not me,” said Lightenbug, “I couldn’t stand that. Probably make my taillight go out. What do you need?” “I wanted to discuss some accounting decisions we’ve recently made,” he said. “Accounting decisions? I don’t know anything about that…uh…stuff. All I want to know is when can I buy a new sailboat, airplane, mansion and that stuff, so just handle it. I don’t think my air freshener is gonna last much longer with that ball of stuff in here. Go back to your office and handle it and, uh, take your ball of stuff with you.” When Tumblebug had left, Lightenbug got a large can of potpourri spray air freshener from the case he kept in his office and liberally fill the air with a different fragrance. Settling back down to reviewing some of the paperwork on his desk, he was brought back to reality by his secretary, Mrs. Dragonfly on the intercom. “Chairman of the Board, Mr. Centipede, to see you, sir.” “Centipede!” Lightenbug exploded. “Tell that long drink of water to put all his hands in his pockets and shuffle back under the rock from which he crawled.” ”I’ll do that!” said Centipede as he closed the door behind him. “Oh,” Lightenbug said hastily, “It’s you. I thought she said Millipede. Always good to have you drop by. Have you seen my new taillight? Watch how it blinks steadily.” “You can cut the hocus-pocus hypnosis stuff with me,” he said with an aura of superiority, “Besides, I have a brain in one of my feet or legs. What is this I hear about your planning to buy FlyWell Wireless. My God, man, you’ve already bought most of the communications companies.” “Look, Centipede,” said Lightenbug, his light quivering with emotion, “You and your ultra-conservative practices are going to kill the future of this company. We fly or we die. That’s the way of all insects. Well, all except you, but then you’re not an insect. You’re a worm!” “I’m a many-segmented predaceous arthropod,” responded Centipede. “Whatever. You’re still a worm to me,” rejoined Lightenbug. “What do you mean, me and my ultra-conservative leadership!” Centipede gasped, “Oh, no. It’s not me it’s you. You spendthrift! You’re going to bankrupt us. You must think you’re Bubba and the world is your Wal-Mart! You’re buying everything in sight. Do you think money grows on trees?” “Well,” Lightenbug started confidently, “I just talked with Tumblebug and you know he’s got his, uh, stuff together. According to the last reports, we are doing twenty billion in business, we’ve got over three billion in cash reserves and our stock is rising at $65 a share. In short, we got the jack, so cut me some slack, dude!” “We got the jack!” Centipede mimicked. “You weren’t raised in the south. You weren’t even raised in this country and you're trying to talk that do-dah, hillbilly, redneck vernacular?” ”Southerners are lovable and interesting, and their language endears people to them. Folks just luv to heah us talk. Sure you wouldn’t want to watch my light sloooowly blink on and off. You’re looking a little sleepy.” “For the last time, NO! I do not want to watch your light on or off, slow or fast. But hear this, we are NOT going to buy FlyWell, PERIOD!” he shouted. “Now that you got that out’n your system, let me tell you how the cow eats the cabbage,” he said softly. “Now, don’t be looking at me like a calf staring at a new gate. You are going to whip that bunch of Cockroaches you call a board into shape and approve the purchase of FlyWell. Now, I don’t care how you do it, but get in there, kick butt and take names. They’re not the big swamp cockroaches, but those little apartment cockroaches. You could make a meal with two or three if necessary to get your point across. For crying out loud, you’re a many-segmented predaceous arthropod! I don’t care how you do it, but as Nike says, “Just do it!” “How are we going to pay for this acquisition?” Centipede asked calmly. “We’ll give him a little cash and a little stock,” Lightenbug responded. As he turned and went out the door, he was muttering, “We’re going down the tubes. I can already hear the sucking sound.” No sooner had Centipede left than the intercom beeped again and Dragonfly announced that Mr. Bumblebee already had drank ten cups of coffee and was on a caffeine high; he’d better let him in. Lightenbug instructed her to send him in. “Lightenbug,” Mr. Bumblebee started as he entered, “What are you trying to do, squeeze me out of my own company?” “So good to see you Bumblebee,” Lightenbug said extending his hand and flashing his taillight. “Come, let us reason together. Surely we can settle this amicably.” “Amicable?” he returned, “You’re just trying to get my company dirt cheap.” “Oh, you are mistaken, Bumblebee,” he said, “By the way, have you seen my taillight. Watch it flash slowly and regularly. Now what were you saying about selling your company?” “Well, I suppose we could strike a deal. How much are you offering?” “I thought 350 million would be a good round figure. Kind of like yourself,” offered Lightenbug. “Lightenbug, you know FlyWell is worth close to a billion,” he countered. “I know it’s worth more than 350 million but that’s just the first volley, as they say. I'm gonna sweeten this deal and make you proud as a peacock when you sign the papers,” Lightenbug said. “How sweet are you going to make this deal?” “Bumblebee, you know that I already have control of enough FlyWell stock to force the deal, so what I’m going to do is give you 500 million shares of our stock as payment.” “Five hundred million! Lightenbug, that’s worth less than three hundred and fifty million if you make this deal any sweeter I’ll be bankrupt.” Bumblebee exclaimed. “But, our stock is paying $1.20 per share and that makes your first dividend six hundred million plus the value of the stock. Then, Tumblebug tells me, and he really knows his stuff, that our stock will split at eighty dollars a share and with the acquisition of FlyWell, it should hit eighty dollars in no time and you’ll then have seven hundred million shares. Uh, did you notice my taillight? See how it flashes? It’s so calming and refreshing. What do you think about our offer?” “Well, that’s not bad. When do we sign the deal?” asked Bumblebee. “I just happen to have the papers here,” he said pulling them from his desk. “Sign right there, you’ll be happier than a youngan with a wheelbar full of new speckled pups.” The deal done, Mr. Bumblebee was ushered out the door as Lightenbug handed the papers to Mrs. Dragonfly. They were sent to the legal department where Lawyer Hornet would have it processed and filed within the hour complete with all applicable fees and stock transfered. Meanwhile, in the Corporate Finance Officer’s office an important meeting was taking place with a prospective new Auditing firm. In the meeting Mr. Tumblebug met with the Huey, Dewey and Louie Grasshopper of Creative Accounting Auditing LLC. “What’s that smell?” asked Dewey Grasshopper. “Smell?” said Tumblebug with a puzzled look on his face, “I don’t notice anything odd.” “It smells like dog po…say, what’s that ball over in the corner?” asked Louie. “That’s my hobby ball,” answered Tumblebug. “It smells like it’s coming from over there,” said Dewey “Hey, can we get on with the meeting? Faster we start, sooner we can finish,” said Huey. “Yes, I’m anxious to learn about your new system of creative accounting,” said Tumblebug, “but first tell me if you’ve had accounts as big as ours before?” “Oh yes,” said Louie, “For example, we recently had the End Run Corporation, a huge company, as well as Garbled Cursing, Inc.” “And you used these creative techniques with those companies?” “Oh sure,” chimed in Huey. “They loved our techniques. Made a billion with them.” “Well, tell me how they work,” said Tumblebug. “It’s so simple, it’s positively brilliant,” started Dewey. “Now, this is your company, right?” “Sure,” said Tumblebug. “And you’re the CFO?” asked Louie. “They’re your books, too?” asked Huey. “So, if they’re your books, your company and you are the CFO, you can do the books anyway you want? Right?” said, Dewey. “I guess,” said Tumblebug. “OK, what we do is take your expenses, say, this forty million for utilities and call it an investment,” said Louie. “But, that’s spending, not investing,” said Tumblebug. “A matter of semantics,” said Huey. “If you didn’t buy the utilities, the company would die, so by buying and paying for them, you are actually investing in the company.” “Hey, I see that,” said Tumblebug. “What about salaries? By paying our employees, we are making investments in them so they will do a good job, be loyal, etc. Couldn’t that be an investment?” “Now you’re getting the spirit. With your insight, we’ll have this company making a hundred billion in no time.” And so Tumblebug and the grasshopper boys continued to improve the books using the methods of Creative Accounting Audit LLC. However, things did not improve as they had hoped, and one day Mrs. Dragonfly buzzed Lightenbug and announced that a swarm of bees were in the office demanding to speak with him. “They’re not killer bees are they, Miz Dragonfly?” he asked. “Well, I don’t think they are, but they are pretty mad,” she responded. “Oh well, that must be our stockholders,” he explained. “OK, hold on a minute and let me get my taillight working slow and steady. OK, I’m ready, send them in.” The door opened and a large black swarm filled the entire room. “Welcome, my stockholder friends,” he said soothingly with his taillight flashing most seductively. “How do you fellows like my new taillight?” “Don’t look!” shouted the apparent leader of the swarm, “He’s trying to mesmerize us.” But it was too late, they had already been flashed. Lightenbug cooed, “Everything’s OK, fellows. Go back to the hive; be happy and don’t worry.” And they left making a beeline straight to the hive where they continued to make honey because they would never be able to retire since their 401Ks were mostly stock in MIC WorldBum. Stock prices continued to plummet and finally Lightenbug asked Mrs. Dragonfly to summons Tumblebug. He requested that Tumblebug leave his ball in his own office. The door opened and in came Tumblebug walking on his front legs pushing this enormous ball with his back legs. “Tumblebug,” Lightenbug shouted, “I told you to leave that thing in your office!” “I know you did,” agreed Tumblebug, “But I’ve been building this thing up and I’ve gotten it so nice, I was afraid someone would steal it.” “Steal it!” shouted Lightenbug, “Nobody in their right mind would steal that ball of…of…stuff, except another idiot Tumblebug. Now get it out of here!” “Where can I put it so it will be safe?” he asked. “Put it in Miz Dragonfly’s office,” Lightenbug said. “She’ll protect it.” Tumblebug opened the door and rolled his ball out into Mrs. Dragonfly’s office. There were sounds of a conflict, and then Mrs. Dragonfly burst into the office. “Mr. Lightenbug,” she gasped, obviously not wanting to breath the air in her office, “I live on a stagnant pond with scum on the surface, dead fish, frogs, snakes and rotting logs, not to mention other things. But the odor of that place is potpourri compared to this ball of…of…of,…” “Stuff?” Lightenbug suggested. “Stuff!” agreed Mrs. Dragonfly, “And I will not baby-sit his stuff even for a short while. If you insist, I will resign. NO, I will quit!” “Well, put it in the break room,” Lightenbug said, “Those people spend too much time in there anyway. That should shut down coffee breaks for a while.” After getting Tumblebug’s ball question settled, Lightenbug asked, “OK, Tumblebug, what’s wrong?” “Don’t have a clue, Chief,” said Tumblebug. “I’ve been busy overseeing the construction of my new house.” “Yeah, I saw the plans,” smiled Lightenbug, “And I understand it on a high hill. “Yup,” he responded, “It’s actually a dunghill.” “P-yew, Tumblebug! A dunghill?” he exclaimed. “But tell me about out stock situation.” “Well, three days ago it was sixty-eight a share. Two days ago it was forty-nine and today it opened at eleven.” “How much cash reserves do we have?” asked Lightenbug. “I looked at the books this morning and we have 3.46 billion.” He answered. “What we need is to get some more credit. Now, with our cash reserves, plus the fact that we are still making money, we should get this credit deal completed. Tell you what, let’s get an independent auditor to come in and check our books. That will prove our position and get the loan guarantees.” “Sure,” said Tumblebug, “That should get things moving.” Two days later, Miss Yellowjacket arrived to inspect the books of MIC WorldBum. Mr. Lightenbug, CEO and founder of the company escorted her to the Accounting floor amid much press coverage. She made her a nest and went to work. Three days later she called a press conference. “Uh, Miss Yellowjacket, don’t you want to appraise me of the situation first?” Lightenbug asked. “Oh, no,” said Yellowjacket firmly, “You invited me in to put creditability back into WorldBum and this is the best way to do it.” “OK, I’m going to trust your judgment to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. Just be kind and gentle with the old cat,” he chuckled. When the press had arrived, Miss Yellowjacket stood and announced that she had found a 3.5 billion dollar error. Lightenbug turned to Tumblebug and clasped his shoulders and said, “A 3.5 billion dollar error. That’s great! Instead of 3.46 billion in cash reserves, we have 7 billion. We may not need that loan guarantee.” “That’s right,” said Miss Yellowjacket, “Instead of World Bum having 3.46 billion in cash reserves, due to accounting irregularities, they have a 4 billion dollar deficit. In short, they don’t have any reserves. Nada, zilch, none, goose egg, negative; do you get my drift?” Lightenbug turned to Tumblebug whose shoulders he had been clasping and moved his grip to his throat. “You low-down tumble roller! You know that palatial mansion you’re building? Well it’s just like that 3.46 billion. It’s gone; swept away by irregular accounting practices. And that prized dunghill, flattened with pure white sanitized sand poured on top of it! And you better hope they send you to prison to save your worthless hard plated hide! You’ll have a string tied to your leg and fly in circles for the rest of your natural life without ever having a tumble ball again!” The days were dark for Lightenbug. Even his beautiful taillight could not brighten his days or nights. Then one day, Mrs. Dragonfly announced that a swarm of bees were there to see him. “Regular bees?” he inquired. “I think they’re killer bees, sir,” she said. “Do they seem angry?” he asked. “Well, they do seem a mite riled,” she responded. “OK, let me get my taillight working before you send them in.” As they entered the room, he had just raised his light and was ready to blink when the lead bee shouted, “You blink that light one time and you’re dead meat, Lightenbug!” “It never entered my mind,” he said, “What can I do for the banking bees today? Come to grant that credit package to us?” “Grant you a credit package? HA!” he jeered, “We came to claim some credit back from you. Now listen up, Lightenbug, cause here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to resign as CEO.” “Ouch!” said Lightenbug. “Second, you’re going to declare bankruptcy,” he said. “Well, if I resign, how can I declare bankruptcy?” he asked. “That is somewhat of a problem,” Killer Bee said. “Do you have someone you could appoint to take your place that you could depend on?” “There is a couple, but most have already been indicted,” he said. “Say, have you seen my new taillight?” “Don’t you even think about a blink cause I’ve told you what would happen!” said Killer Bee. “Oh, I wasn’t. I just thought I saw you looking. You know, kind of curious.” So there he was. Out on his ear from the company he had begun and built and in his place the company was being run by a bunch of ants, crickets and cutworms. Not a Lightenbug in the place to brighten and mystify. But on the bright side, he still had his big house, a couple of boats and airplanes. He still had his 200 million dollars and his 1.5 billion shares of MIC WorldBum stock, though it was only worth thirty million, if he could find a buyer. However, he had heard there was a new technology that was opportunity just waiting for someone with the right touch to make it work. And, he still had his taillight.
© Copyright 2002 Writer of the Winds (UN: caracas at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Writer of the Winds has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
 Log In To Leave Feedback |
Static Items
Books
Forums
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
