#imagine if I was in payroll at a big company and this shit happened

[robotslenderman]

Having a real difficult time studying because fucking excel is ruining my spreadsheets by using the American date formatting and literally crashing every single time I try to change it to ddmmyy.

[lady-raziel]

and alright, here's my last (let's hope) and boldest take yet. lots of people have been talking about the level of staff (around 25-ish people) at watcher, and whether downsizing that number could have been a potential avenue of reducing costs before just jumping to a subscription model. at first i was like yeah, i'm not sure that there needs to be 18 people involved in making a lets play. i was in the fucking trenches in the unus annus days and i'm still amazed how markiplier and ethan nestor managed to put out pretty well edited videos every day for a whole year with only a handful of editors and a couple people filming. what unus annus was trying to do and what watcher is trying to do are obviously pretty different, but the point is that you really don't need a whole crew of people to make lots of different types of content and do it well.

i still think there probably doesn't need to be a whole production crew involved with the creation of some of the simpler types of content watcher puts out. however, i don't think the size of the staff is the real problem. in fact, i think the staff of watcher probably should have been larger.

let me explain. if i begrudgingly go to one of my most detested websites (linkedin. *bleeegh*) and look up watcher, i can see that pretty much every person on staff is in a creative role of some sort by their own admission. at first glance, its like, oh, that makes sense. they're making creative products, it's natural that they should all be in creative roles. however, once you think about it for a little longer from a business perspective, that fact is really concerning.

after all, by watcher's own definition, this is a production studio. this is a company. So in this sea of creative roles, who's doing corporate planning? Who's managing finance? Who's doing payroll? Or brand outreach? Or human-freaking-resources??? you can hire outside groups for all this. i'm aware. but those services cost a lot of money to contract too. i'm just finding it concerning that there is pretty much no one on full time staff that is there to at least do some of this stuff. if watcher wants to be a big-boy company, that's fine, but that means you have to pay some people to be part of your company to do the not-fun business stuff like accounting. or resource management.

if they want to be a real company, they should actually have a lot more people on staff to deal with all the non-creative parts of running a company. even if they contract out most of it, you want at least a few people that are your people and don't actually work for someone else. that's how you don't get screwed over or end up in a contract you can't get out of.

which leads me to my last train of thought. like, as i go through the staff of watcher and look at what they do, it really seems like one of the ONLY people who's job it was to look at the business side of things WAS steven lim in his role as CEO. and thinking about that, i'm like god, can you imagine?? here's a guy who just wants to create cool stuff too but as one of the few people who has to think about the realities of Brand and the Business, HE has to be the one to burst the bubble. He as CEO has to say no to people and make decisions to make sure the company survives. In a group of creative people who just want to make things they're interested in, no expense spared, he was probably the guy who had to stay at least a little tethered to reality.

I'm not about to say that steven lim isn't to blame here. everyone involved in making the decisions that have led up to this point is part of this. but shit, it absolutely sucks to have to be the person at the end of the brainstorm session when everyone is coming up with their best ideas and to have to say "guys, i don't think any of these things are possible unless we make some big decisions."

is that what happened at watcher HQ? i don't know. at this point, with radio silence from everyone, speculation is all we've got. but if you follow the thread of a bunch of creatives striking out on their own to make their own business after being burned by their former employer, despite not knowing really how to run a business, and then only hiring fellow creative people and not other people who actually run business things... well, all of this starts to make slightly more sense in WHY none of watcher's actions make sense. everybody wants to stick it to the man and be their own boss with their own business, until it actually comes to the hard parts of doing that. at that point people start to realize, "oh, maybe some of the things that existed at my old job were there for a reason, actually."

all this is why lots of creatives striking out and starting their own businesses don't work in the end. they're thinking about in terms of creative products still, when they really need to be focusing more on the "business" part of the "creative business." it's sad. it sucks. it destroys a lot of good ideas and good people, because one person in every company like that has to be the one who thinks practically. could this have been avoided if watcher had been hiring people all along to manage this business and not just adding people to add to the creative output? maybe. even then it might not have been enough to curb other predictable impulses that led us down this path.

i feel bad for watcher, and i feel bad for the fandom. but i can't help but wonder if this was always the kind of situation we were going to end up in, and we just missed some of the warning signs because ALL of us were thinking, "well, that could never happen to us. we're different. not the Ghoul Boys."

[stevenbasic]

“Wait tell me again we lost how many people?!?” I asked, still unable to believe it. Too much was happening, too much too quickly. Here I was, sitting in this monstrosity of an office Melissa has somehow arranged to be built for herself while we were away, in front of her gigantic new desk, still dealing with what happened with Sheryl at home (more on that later), and now this?!? More quittings?!?

“Shhh we’ll be fine…” Melissa soothed, trying to placate me as she poured a coffee for me at her new, elegant coffee station in the corner, “it was just the girls from accounting, Sharon from the front desk, a few part-time medical assistants…” I watched her add sugar and milk, and more milk. “Kathy was having trouble with Doris and Marjorie in accounting, anyway.”

I put my head in my hands. I can’t say I didn’t know this day was coming. So many of my old employees hated Melissa. Or, rather, they hated me for being such a weak turd, so easily enchanted by a big pair of tits that I’d hire an under-qualified, under-experienced girl like “Melissssy” to be their boss and basically run the finances of the practice into the ground, which was exactly what was happening. We’d been bleeding money and now we were bleeding people. Out of a total of seventeen or so original employees at the start, now only a handful were left. The rest, all the new hires were...hers: friends, ex-coworkers, people from this drug company to which she has some connection, a friend in sales. And if she made more hires to replace those that just left, the overwhelming majority at this point would have more loyalty to her than to me. I groaned, lamenting how far I’d let this get....

It was as if she was reading my mind when she consoled me. “Aw, shhhh...You still have CiCi, in scheduling, Aubrey and Brittni at the desk, nurse Vida, a couple medical assistants,” she said, listing the remaining original employees as I took my face from my hands to see her standing over me with my coffee, “And, plus...you have me.”  Her smile was ebullient, and she offered me the warm cup. 

“y-yeah,” I agreed half-heartedly, taking the coffee from her hands, taking my first sip, and immediately noticing she’d put in even more milk than the last time. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she was trying to slowly wean me off coffee, turn me into a milk-drinker. 

She sat back on the desk in front of me, looked down at me with sympathy. It had been a little bit of a shock, after a week of seeing Melissa in the most casual of clothes, in the most revealing of swimwear, to see her in a power suit again. She looked so...put-together, but still dramatically sexy. Her legs, even in her fashionable black pants, were strong and shapely, and even a buttoned-up white blouse and jacket had no chance in hiding the curves of her torso. “Anyway it’s done, they’re gone, they all left last week,” she said, reaching out a hand to cup my face, caress it tenderly, “you don’t have to worry. We took care of it, we have it covered.”

“A-and you knew about th-this, last week? Wh-while we were away?” I asked, voice cracking in my dismay. Though she had told me before, I needed her to repeat it, to explain. 

“Yes, I did,” she clarified, smiling beatifically, “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to ruin the nice time we were having, spoil your vacation.” She ran her hand through my hair, brushing it off my forehead. “So I didn’t tell you about all the girls that left. Randi took care of a lot of it, and Amelia. And Marisela, she’s been a great help, too.”

I found myself looking at Melissa's wide, soft lap, and sipped again at my milky coffee. Part of me, I have to admit, was relieved that it happened, finally, that the old veterans were more or less all gone, gone with their perspicacity and judgmental glares. Gone and that I didn't have to face them, that I didn’t need to be there for the unpleasantness. Part of me was glad there was someone else that handled things, that did the work. The way Melissa described it earlier, it sounded like there was a shouting match, a throwdown between Randi - who Melissa had left, probably foolishly, “in charge” while we were away - and the remaining old guard.

I could imagine it, Randi locking horns and talking some real shit - the kind Melissa herself would never be capable of - to the old timers, the ones admittedly most essential to the practice. They probably left in disgust, with only a few of the younger women - who had already found themselves gravitating to Melissa’s orbit - staying on. But - Sharon? My Front Desk Supervisor...she’d been with us from the start! Just like Doris and Marjorie from accounting: they’d all be a huge loss. 

“This is all good news, sweetie, a fresh start,” Melissa purred, continuing to assure me that everything was well in hand, “the only people here now are the ones totally committed to helping us grow and change and get better. And don’t worry, we’ll get in some new girls that love the practice, love you as much as we do. We want to keep you safe, secure...” She watched as I nervously finished the last of my coffee. “Do you want another cup?”

“uuuhhhh...sure…” I replied, as already she’d stood, had taken my cup from my hands. I watched her full hips and big rear, blessed with what looked like an extra sway in her tight black pants, as they rolled voluptuously back to her coffee station.

Safety. Security. ”Hey, uh...what’s up with the new security, on the computers?” I asked, as she fixed me another cup, “How much did that cos-”

“Oh, it didn’t cost us anything,” she replied, as once again she poured a more-than-healthy amount of milk into my coffee, “it was all paid for by Lean In…along with the additions, the improvements, the renovations, too.”

She meant her office, of course. This office. 

I was shocked when I had first came around the corner, directed by Marisela back to where we used to have two old storage rooms, only to find an entire new wing, a bright, contemporary hallway where once there was none. Had we taken space from the suite of offices next door?! Who’d okayed this?? How’d it get done so quickly?? We were away for only a week and I come home to...this?!? The hallway led, it seemed, to several new rooms: the first, on my right, looking to be the most impressive of them, behind an elegant set of double doors, a transom window above. On the door, a sophisticated placard: “Melissa Monroe - Office Manager”.

This was Melissa’s new office?!? Flabbergasted even before I first walked in, my jaw totally hit the floor when I opened the door and - I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was beautiful, and it was big. Modern, lots of whites, grays, natural driftwood tones brightened by tons of natural light. There was a sitting area with a voluptuous white couch, a big, comfortable chair and a plush white area rug underneath it all. Huge windows with a seductive view of the city skyline loomed behind an impressive desk at which sat a queen ready to receive her subjects: Melissa, my twenty-something new Office Manager. The whole place looked - and, I realized, as I stepped in - smelled just like her. Immediately - crap, whyyyyy…?? Is this some sort of weird instinct, now? - I felt myself thickening across my hip.

She stood, spreading her arms wide, and with a great swell of her chest in pride asked me: “Don’t you love it???” 

“I-it’s...b-beautiful…” was all I could manage as I walked in, unable to shake the feeling that I was entering dangerous territory, soil that was not my own. A new domain that was undeniably...hers.

She had giggled, and had asked me to sit.

So as I sat here now and drank my second cup of milk-thick coffee I looked around, again. I was beside myself. So, it was all paid for by “Lean In”?? Great, but I never intended for her to have an office!  Previously, she was just stationed in her own area in the main central space, in a semi-private corner but among the other staff. She had had a desk but now - an office?!? And - it’s so much bigger than mine!! By...a lot! It makes mine look like a walk-in closet! Did she realize it?? Was she that oblivious to how emasculating it is seeing a young, attractive employee get a bigger office than you? Or - the more scary thought - was that the point?

“The people at Lean In were so cool, more than happy to pay for it all,” Melissa explained, “as long as it was supporting growth in a company like ours.”

I knew I shouldn’t even ask it...but then I did. “L-like ours?”

She smiled benevolently down at me. “Woman-owned, woman-managed,” she said, as gently as she could, barely containing the giddy, feminist pride that was so obviously bubbling inside her. “Sheryl was the one that okayed the construction,” she added, as if unable to help herself. 

In the subtext, I felt like an afterthought, and was acutely aware of the fragile bones of my pride snapping, just like kindling, inside me. 

“We all thought the changes, the new rooms, the extra money for staff, would be great,” she continued, taking a moment to look around, admire her handiwork, “perfect first steps in our expansion.”

“E-expansion?” 

”Well, of course we need to replace the girls that we lost,” Melissa said, her eyes rolling but then falling back down to me again, “but we should add even more people, make ourselves bigger. It’s part of Lean In...growth, development, success, for women.” She was watching me closely. “Don’t you want to see that?”

”w-well, yes, of course,” I stammered, reflexively, “b-but...wait, what? more people?” Didn’t we have trouble meeting payroll just last week?

”To help revenue, since you’re not bringing in as much anymore - oh, shh don’t feel bad!” she continued, seeing my startled reaction. 

I was doing fine! Seeing patients, billing. It’s the financial mismanagement, the crummy scheduling and day-to-days of you and your...your...people that are-

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll fix it. Lean In gave me some ideas, and I got some more ideas at the conference on how to make it work,” she went on, obviously excited for her new plans, “We should hire more providers - they’ll all have to be women, of course, for Lean In - but Nurse Practitioners, maybe a Nurse Asstha...Attess…”

“Aesthetician?” I helped, even through my disarray.

“Yes, that..! <giggle!> They can all make us a lot of money,” she said, “And they’ll all need support staff, so that’s more people…”

Of course I’d considered all this, adding secondary providers like PAs, APRNs, employees that can bill aside from myself so the practice has more income. We already had one part-time APRN, Vida...when I’d done the numbers before it just never made sense to bring on more. Why would it now? And...an Aesthetician - what did they do? Botox, Laser hair removal, chemical peels? At a Geriatrics practice?

“It sounds...expensive,” I said, knowing I was being too meek but god help me unable to disappoint her, not wanting to upset her by really putting my foot down with a ‘no’. “Expensive” was all I could manage. .

“It’s okay,” she quickly replied, ready with her response, “we have the Lean In money to start...and they'll bring in more than you, pretty quickly.“

Oh my god. It was like I could hear the overwrought strands of my stretched-thin ego actually snapping.

“okay okay okay...we can talk about it,” I said, disbelieving how far this conversation had gotten already. I was such a mess, after the travel and the fight with Sheryl and the bad night of sleep, the return to work and the thing with the computer, her office and now this. But I knew I had to step up, be proactive. Remember the last round of quittings, and the new hires after that? That’s how we got Amelia, and Josie, and that stern lady in accounting. “But first we have to replace the people we lost, just so we can operate,” I said, with as much authority as I could muster, adding, “a-and I want to be more involved this time.”

“Oh, of course, sugar, sure, if you insist,” Melissa replied, sweetly, indulgently, “I’ve already asked Randi to start looking for some girls. Here, why don’t we bring her in...” At that, she turned to her right and pressed the button on an intercom. “You two can come in now,” she announced. 

In less than a moment the door behind me had opened, and I craned my neck to see both Randi and Marisela stepping in. “Hiiiiii….” Randi keened, while Marisela just smiled.  Both were dark of complexion, dark of hair. Both were wearing black, both were in similar outfits. Randi’s pants, though, had flared cuffs while Marisela’s outfit was more figure-hugging head-to-toe. Randi was also wearing higher heels and a clingy silk blouse. Despite myself, I felt my loins respond...I was suddenly in a room with three very attractive women.

Politely, I started to stand, to offer one of them my chair. Melissa, though, immediately stopped me, sticking out her foot onto my seat, between my legs. “No, you sit,” she commanded.

I froze, sat back down, and in the next moment they were behind me, flanking me, one on either side. For some reason, my heart had quickened, and I felt surrounded. “H-hi ladies…” I stuttered, hearing the wimpish uncertainty in my voice, and then the contented purring of Marisela and Randi as they settled warmly behind me, close and confident.

”So... Dr. J agrees,” Melissa began, addressing her attendants, “we need to hire some more girls, and he wants to make sure he’s more involved in the process this time. Think we can do that?”

“Oh, for sure,” Randi answered, her voice entirely too sultry for a Monday morning, “I think we can do that.” She placed her hand on my left shoulder. “Can’t we, Marisela?” 

“Mmhm yeah sure...we can do that,” Marisela agreed, her hand now on my other shoulder. I caught myself swallowing dryly, confused. Marisela, in the past, had never seemed to warm to the new girls, to Randi, to Melissa. In fact, I thought she kinda hated them, in her own dark, quiet, passive aggressive way.

When Randi spoke up, it was again as if my mind was being read. ”With you gone last week, Dr J, with less patients, we girls had a lot of time to get to know one another,” she said, hovering close behind me on my left, “I think we all really started to come together as a team-.” . 

”...and realize how much we missed you,” Marisela chimed in, on my right, coming closer. I could feel the warmth of both of their bodies behind me, and it was doing nothing for my efforts to keep myself from - ugh - slowly hardening in my slacks.

“We had an early meeting this morning, at seven, all the girls,” Melissa said, her eyes on me, “so now we’re all on the same page, the new and old staff.” She cocked her head. “Randi? Would you fix his hair for me?”

“Haha yeah…” Randi replied, running a hand through my hair, arranging stray locks over my left ear.

“I told them all about some of the stuff we talked about on vacation,” Melissa continued, smiling as her friend tended to me, idly.

”L-like...what stuff?” I stammered, recoiling already at the memories, but allowing Randi’s ministrations. The thought of them all know-

”Ohh you remember…‘It can be more like this when we get home, y’know, with all the girls,’” Marisela said, as if repeating word-for-word what Melissa had said to me, that morning out by the pool as she loomed over me with her huge breasts in that white bikini, “It doesn’t have to be just Melissa. You can take care of patients-”

“...and we’ll take care of you,” Randi said, picking up where Marisela left off, in perfect harmony, repeating verbatim what Melissa had promised me, “Let us do all the hard work, make sure everything is easy for you, make sure that you’re comfortable, happy…”

“...that you get everything you need,” Marisela continued, moving her left arm around my neck, tighter. I felt the subtle press of her d-cup against the back of my head. What the fuck was happening?!?

“You remember…” Melisssa purred, leaning in towards me from where she sat, over me, on her huge new desk.

looked after, protected... 

I thought back, in that instant, to the starkly contrasting moment of last night, of my fight with Sheryl.

...supported...nurtured, fed…

Where she, Sheryl...she did what she did. While these girls, this group of women, seemed ready for me, ready for me to land in, ready to catch my fall.

...burped...changed…

“All you have to do is sit back and...let us. Let me,” Melissa said. As my cock pressed uncomfortably into my leg, straining my pants under the hapless cover of my folded arms, I could feel it, imagining it again….a finger trace across my bare belly, like that morning, as I lay on the lounger by the pool, “Let me expand what we can do, let us grow...”

The girls grew closer, like a coven coalescing around me.

But...but...I knew...I knew what I’d said I’d do. That I’d...be better. That I’d...be strong. That I’d...

”I-I th-think-“

”Shhhh...that’s your problem,” Melissa stopped me, before I even began, leaning even closer towards me on the desk, bringing her face nearer to my own, “stop thinking, sweetie, stop worrying…” 

”Yeah, Dr, J, that’s right...” Randi breathed.

:”...that’s for us to do now….” Marisela concluded, “...boss.”

================================

Thanks to user at GTSCity Rivense1 a way's back for the idea on the new office, and of course SaulJinzer for the Melissssy render. Check out his DeviantArt: lots of great Denise Milani giantess stuff and his 3D model for her is top-notch.

[maximumtragedypoetry]

Expressing Gratitude When You Don't Feel That Grateful

Gratitude has always been such a funny term to me.

I remember growing up my mom would always tell me and my siblings to "be grateful" for things - birthday presents, lunch money, family trips, as well as the basic necessities of having food in our bellies and a roof over our head - but gratitude felt more like an expectation than something sincere. Not to say that I wasn't grateful for those things (as a Taurean, I love me some material possessions and lavish experiences), but when the anticipated response is to be grateful, the idea of "gratitude" kind of loses its meaning and power.

To be grateful for something (at least the way that I see it), you have to be willingly to fully and openly embrace something, whether it be an object, a person, or a situation, without condition. It has to be genuine. It's not enough to just be grateful. You should feel grateful.

Of course, when you've spent the majority of your life taking most everything around you for granted, feeling grateful about anything particular is no easy task. And it can seem difficult to feel grateful about something that maybe isn't entirely positive right now. For example, my job isn't perfect. I manage a retail store and it can be time consuming, overwhelming, and frantic.

When my sales associates are bored on the floor due to slower traffic, I'm running around behind the scenes doing up schedules, approving payroll, dealing with customer complaints, dealing with upper management, scheduling interviews, calling candidates back, having meetings, answering the phones, replying to emails, ensuring that stock is received on time and put away, and that all of our stock transfers to other stores are packaged properly and sent away within strict timeframes (to name a few things I do).

Even my days off are plagued with work. My employees call me to ask questions or get approvals for returns/exchanges, people call in sick or ask to get shifts covered, or Head Office is sending me emails looking for speedy replies when I'm sitting in my living room in my PJs re-watching The Office on Netflix for the 7th time. That's all in the day of the life of a Store Manger - it is (to an extent) just part of the job I signed up for.

And I love my job. Honestly, I do. There's a lot that I'd like to be improved upon; it's not a perfect job by any sense, but it's one of the best jobs that I've ever had. It pays well, I make my own schedule within reason, I get to call the shots and I pride myself on being an empathetic manager who takes her employee's concerns into consideration. I get along well with my co-workers and I've managed to keep a store that was in danger of imploding before I signed on to a top 5 store in sales across the country on a relatively consistent basis. And I've done it all at the ripe age of 24.

Do I want to be in retail forever? Definitely not. I've been in retail for the past 8 years and while I'm in no particular rush to get away from it all, I would certainly enjoy a change in scenery.

In retail, I have been cussed out by people two to three times my age. I have received death threats, been called a "racist" in a Google Review by an entitled white man of all people (dude walked into the store very hostile, first words out of his mouth were a threat, and when I asked him to please leave he told me to "f*** off" and so I threatened to call security which he clearly didn't appreciate, and claimed that I was discriminating against his Irish accent - which... no, just no. I happen to love the accent. He was just being an asshole), I've been called literally every name in the book because entitled people can't be bothered to read signs or because they don't get their way on something. It's not been a fantastic experience by any means.

Despite all the crap that I deal with on a semi-regular basis, I still like my job. The people I work with make it all the more bearable, which certainly helps, but under different circumstances I may not have stayed. Yet, I'm incredibly grateful for my job because it allows me to enrich my life in other ways - the bullshit is just part of the "Shit Sandwich" that I have to deal with for the time being (read Elizabeth Gilberts, Big Magic if you don't understand the reference - highly recommended for creatives).

Because of my job I've been able to move out on my own, get my own apartment by myself without any roommates, afford a car, afford a nicer phone with a good phone plan, afford a new laptop, buy the food that I want to buy, and ultimately start taking care of myself again. I have great medical benefits and the company I work for offers really good mental health services. I'm able to invest some extra money in myself towards things that I've always wanted to do like learn music production, or start up new hobbies like painting, as well as use some money towards my spiritual ventures (candles and herbs may be cheap but the costs rack up). I've met some really lovely people through my job - both employees and customers - and being a Store Manager at 24 is something that I'm really proud of. My job has allowed me to do so much and it's because of that that I'm grateful for it.

I'm even grateful for the bad stuff because I've come to learn that all life really is is a learning experience. There is no value or judgement placed on our journey. All that ever happens to us is neither good nor bad - it's neutral. "Good" and "Bad" are terms that we place on an experience or situation to give it value. We judge our experiences all the time and we fail to see that maybe there's a little good in the bad, or a little bad in the good. And our perception of events change over time. What once was a bad experience has now been transformed into a good experience through time and learning.

As an example of this, imagine you're going through a break-up. It hurts like hell and everything sucks right now. You can't imagine ever getting over this person and being happy again. This is ultimately deemed a "Bad Thing". Then, after some time has passed, maybe a year or so, you look back on that break up with clarity, wisdom, and a sense of relief.

Thank God that ended, you think to yourself, or else I wouldn't be where I'm at in my life right now.

Maybe the break-up is actually a "Good Thing" even though you can't see it now. Maybe the break-up is going to teach you necessary skills to navigate in the world and emerge and stronger, more balanced individual. Maybe it will help you understand what you do or don't want out of a relationship and so when the next person comes along, you don't have to waste years of your life trying to figure out how (and if) this person fits into your space. You'll just know. Maybe it'll help you realize that romantic relationships aren't the be-all-end-all, nor are they the goal in life. The goal is to just be you and to live authentically and to learn as much as you possibly can in this lifetime to take forward with you into the next one.

People come and go. Bad Things come and go, and so do Good Things. Knowing this can make it a little easier to feel gratitude for all of it because even if you don't feel so grateful for it now, you likely will later when the storm has passed and you've healed. Hitting rock bottom isn't the end that we think it is - it's merely a rest and reset. The main thing to remember is that everything is temporary - even you - so you need to make the most of it.

[michael3434g]

Tom and the awful Detective Henry

Tom and the Despicable Detective Henry

Written by Michael D. Gutierrez

Chapter 1. Rules and Lies Forty years ago in the town of Eagle Rock, there was a golden age of great detectives. Those detectives ran out all of the mafias and exposed corrupt political figures Everyday reading the Eagle Rock Post seemed like reading an old pulp detective novel. The story’s with all the fighting and the good guy getting the girl in the end. The bomb being stopped when there’s just one second left on the counter.

Good for me, that golden age stuff is long gone over. Most of the detectives sold out and started to work for private companies and secret government branches, instead of helping the locals. Other detectives that wanted to play hero, were hunted down by private mob detectives, then they were killed. The last honest detective out there. He's somewhat of a folk hero in the streets. His name is Harrison Grant. He's still at work trying to put guys like me in prison. I thought he died a long time ago, but our leads say otherwise. He works incognito.

He's hard for any mob's private detective to track because very few people know what Harrison looks like.

He is considered one of the best. I don't feel he would be difficult to capture because he must be old as heck. Harrison must be like in his late 70's pushing 80's.

I doubt he still working. I assume someone’s just pretending to be him. Probably just using Harrison brand makes sense. I doubt he still working himself.

My name is Tom Dime, I run with the Grump Street gang. I am one of the three people apart from this small task force to capture this sun of a gun. The other Twitter men with are, my right-hand man, Daniel Kan and some private investigator name Henry Shiz.

Detective Henry Shiz is kinda primadonna.

Two hours ago we got a tip-off that detective Harrison was in the neighborhood.

Henry: I hope you boys are armed because this could be dangerous. We are capturing him not hunting him. Harrison is not a man that will not be captured easily. Harrison was an A-rank threat before he went off the radar. Daniel: He's just a wash up old man that can't let go of his the glory days. This should be a cakewalk. Henry: That's not true Daniel, Harrison has busted a lot of our top leaders in the past. This old man is not a pushover, he's a problem. I'm just really surprised it's just the three of us on this mission. Tom: Detective Henry, do you have a history with detective Harrison? Henry: Yes, Harrison showed me most of his old tricks, when I was a young up and coming detective. Around your age, early twenties. We work together in a couple of major big cases back in the day. Daniel: How can me and my buddy Tom, know you won't betray us when we start killing your old friend boy, Harrison? Henry: That won't be the most dreadful thing I have ever done, ok. Trust me I can deal with it. First, I like being on the Grump street payroll. Second, the FBI does not want me anymore, in reason, I won't get into. Lastly, my daughter is going to a scam ridden art college, so I need as much money as I can get my hands on. Tom: I know liars Daniel, and he is not one. Don't get me wrong, he is a cockroach, but he is our cockroach. Daniel: Great because nothing is going to stop me in blowing Harrison's brains out. It is his fault my father went to the slammer. My dad was just selling fake social security account. We got a tip from a store owner that the gang has a connection with. He said he saw detective Harrison leaving and entering the rundown Dude Gum factory for a couple of days. Around 3:30am. All three of us enter through a broken window to get into the factory. Henry: Alright boys listen up. Let's stick together, ok. Daniel: No I can't, Henry. I need to get revenge now. Daniel ran down the hall, with his gun out. Daniel has all focus on finding detective Harrison. Henry: Dumb kid, he does not know who he is dealing with. Your friend is a moron, Tom. We get more money if catch the guy alive. Tom: Sorry, Henry, Daniel has never been the type of guy that takes orders.What is your plan, man? More money if catch the guy alive. Henry: Stealth. It' Stealth. Taking advantage of Harrison age is the best way to get the drop on him. His hearing must not be that great anymore. He probably can’t put up a fist as fight like he uses to.

I and Henry slowly walk upstairs to oversee the factory so we could find detective Harrison. As we walk around the hall I see Henry planting nano cameras on the walls. Tom: I still don't understand why would you want to betray your own friend? Henry: Friend? I have a very small history with detective Harrison. That's why I would not call him a friend. It would be great for me, if he disappeared. I have done some bad things, so maybe someday he may come after me. One less worry on my mind.

Tom: Oh, I see... You want insurance so Harrison won't come after you. Henry: It would make me sleep easier knowing he's swimming with the fishes. A fire alarm goes off all around the Dude Gum factory. Henry and me grabbed our guns out immediately. I would be lying if I said i wasn't nervous. Tom: I really hope that was just, Daniel fucking around with the alarm. Let's run back downstairs. I think I thought I saw a fire alarm there. A voiceover from an intercom shouted saying "I'm not there Henry, I'm in the cafeteria". Henry: Dammit, it is Harrison, Tom!

Tom: That alarm scared the shit out of me. Do you think someone ratted us out and alerted, Harrison? Henry: That's possible, Tom. I think it was most likely Daniel's recklessness that got Harrison's attention. That high school dropout fool. I and Henry entered in the large lunch room and see an old man with a wearing trench coat. Could it be Harrison? He looked a lot older than I imagine. Henry's face looks like he saw a ghost, he is speechless. Tom: You're Harrison, right? The detective? You got the whole trench coat thing.

Harrison: Yes stranger, I am Harrison. Now the young man I have a question back to you. Are you three here to murder me. Tom: No, we... Henry: Shut the heck up Tom, don't tell him anything, not even a lie. Don't give him a bit of info. Harrison: Henry, it's really nice to see you again. It's funny to see you as an old man. Of course not as old as me. I remember the good old days when you were a young man ready to solve every case that popped up. It saddens me to see my pupil working with the wrong crowd.

Henry: The old days were great. I'm glad to see you again in a strange way. It's nostalgic to see you still wear your old gray trench coat. Most elite detective’s stop that fashion trend several decades ago.

Harrison: This trench coat cost me a couple grand. I plan to wear it until I die.

The fire alarm is still ringing over and over, it's driving me insane. Tom: Yo, could you guys stop talking about dress up? Harrison, you turn off the freaking alarm! The ringing is killing my mind. Harrison: Calm down, the alarm will go off by itself in a minute or less. Henry: Harrison, why have you been hanging out in the Dude Gum factory? Harrison: For a couple weeks I've been investigating the link between Dude Gum and blindness. A lot of Dude Gum consumers and factory workers have been getting blindness. Lucky most cases of blindness are temporary.

Tom: Crap. I guess I won't steal a crate of Dude Gum on my way out. Harrison: Since I was honest and answered your question, could you answer mine? Are you boys here to murder me? Because I need to know before I make my next move.

The fire alarm stop ringing, now in the room is a moment of silence. Henry: Sorry, I'm on my client's payroll, Harrison. I could not back out now, they would kill me, my daughter. I really hoped this day would never happen. Harrison: I wished you had the guts to just say the truth. Shame on you, Henry. I trained you to use your detective skills for the greater good, not for selfish reasons. Henry: I had no choice, Harrison. This isn't a black and white issue. Harrison: Don't act like you're the victim, Henry. What happened to you? I remembered when you liked to help the common man. I remember you said something like that once to me. I am aware of all the peoples lives you destroyed, by fooling around with the stock market. You have grown up to be a crook. That’s the legacy I see.

Henry: You know what fine, you're right, Harrison. I don't like to be paid $60 and one cup of sugar a day looking for a damn lost kid. Working for the elite keeps me off the street, ok. You knew, I always hated being poor. I saw a way out, so took it.

Harrison: Just like everyone else, you grew up to be a big disgrace. I feel ashamed of being your mentor. It kills me a little bit every time I find out one of my ex-students are abusing their skills for selfish reasons. Tom: Harrison, you should stop talking to us, like if you had the upper hand. With one small phone call, I could get a small army of gangbangers over here right now. The capital of the Grump street gang is literally down the block. Henry: Tom, I told you already to shut it! Let the detectives talk. You're just simply the help.

Daniel finally entered the same room as me, Henry, and detective Harrison. Daniel has a big bag of stolen Dude Gum. Daniel paused and said.

Daniel: Oh shit is that the detective, Harrison guy?

Harrison: Hi. I just warned your friends about Dude Gum. You should stay away from the stuff.

Daniel: What the heck, it's fucking, detective Harrison. What are you guys waiting for? When are we going to shoot him? You got a gun, right? Tom: We are here to capture him, Daniel. Remember? Daniel: This guy is a folk hero, kill him now and you will be a legend for life. That would be crazy Rad. Tom: If we kill him we won't get paid, Daniel. I only want the paper. Glory doesn't pay the bills dude. Harrison: You guys should kidnap me already, before the cops and the fire department shows up. Remember I pulled the fire alarm three minutes ago? Unless you want to talk to me to death. Henry: Let's go outside gentlemen! An escort van should be on its way by now. Handcuff Harrison and let's head outside.

Ok, great it seems like he won't give up a fight. We just get him to the gang warehouse and then we all get paid.

I could see Henry feels shaken seeing Harrison. I can’t tell if he sad, mad, or happy.

This was way too overhyped. None of us thought this would be such a cakewalk.

Daniel: Harrison, I am surprised you're not crying like a little bitch. You do know you're walking the death march? My boss up the street is going to go nuts when he sees you. Harrison: Only God says when I die, young man. I don't blame you because of your a product of this strange world.

Daniel: You don't know anything about me, man. I am the one who is going to end you.

Harrison: You don’t look like a murder. There is still time for you to turn back. Think to yourself is this the type of world I want to live in. It is not too late for you unlike your friend Henry.

Daniel: Henry, Harrison is talking trash about you.

Tom: Ouch.

Henry: Can everyone shut up the heck up for a second!? Our transportation is here.

A white van showed up across the street. All four of us ran in the back of the van. Daniel put duct tape over detective Harrison mouth. Daniel: I can't wait to see you beg for your life when we bring you to our boss. Henry: I'm surprised the van shown up on time. Also, the driver does not look drunk or stoned. The gangs hiring management department must be getting better. Hey, driver what’s your name? The driver was a young girl That could not be more than 19 years old. She was wearing a green jumpsuit with a name tag saying, Freddy. I saw Daniel's, eyes brighten up with her cuteness. Freddy: Oh, hey, my name is Freddy. I will be your driver for today. It's nice to finally meet you, detective Henry. I’ve heard interesting about you. You found out who burn down the Grump warehouse near Echo Park. Henry: That was my first case with Grump, Freddy. Freddy is normally not a female name. I like it, Freddy. I find it to be bold. Freddy: Thank you. My father picks it out my name. Name after some baseball player. By the way, I'm shocked you guys captured, Harrison. I didn't even think he was still alive. Daniel: Girl, I like your jumpsuit. It's cool you're jumpsuit as Grump Street green. How long have you been in the Grump organization? I've never seen you before in any kickbacks. Henry: Daniel, you moron! Detective Harrison is in the van. Now he knows we're Grump street members. I hope you plugged his fricken ear. Daniel: I didn't but Who gives a shit? He's going to die in an hour or two anyway. It doesn't really matter, man. Henry: Tom and Daniel throw Harrison back in the van and shut up! I hope I won't be paired up with you two numbskulls again. You guys mess up my style. Anyways get Harrison tied up good. I am going to make some calls.

I tide Harrison's feet together and Daniel stuffed one of us dirty gym socks down his face throat. After that, we all went to the van and driven off. Freddy: You guys ready to jam out? Tom: Freddy, where are you driving us? Freddy: We're going to the abandon, Fish Tung factory. Members are starting to show up to see if you captured, Harrison. Henry: That’s strange. I thought we would be going to the Grump compound. Do know if there any reason why we’re not going there.

Henry: Fish Tung factory is out of business? Wow, that is insane, my grandfather works there when, Fish Tung first open, 60 years ago. What a shame, this country is really falling apart. Daniel: Fish Tung, closed down six years ago, Henry. All the jobs got moved overseas. Henry: Another rival fish company must have hired a detective to run out, Fish Tung and other competitors out of town. It a common thing to in business nowadays. Or most likely greedy corrupt unions. Either way very tragic. Tom: How do detectives ruin a business. Henry: Lots of times for small business we would dress up as IRS agents and make up fake tax fines. It gets funny when a stupid owner would pay us, off on the spot. Then we would show up once a week until the business is bankrupt. You got to turn a little soulless to enjoy that type of job. It’s mafioso type stuff. Daniel: Man, Henry, you're ruining America more than lawyers. Henry: Don't get me started on how us detectives use unions on major companies. That's a 30-minute lecture, pretty much, Daniel. I doubt you could comprehend it so I won't waste my breath Daniel: F off, Henry. Tom: Henry, are you going to stick around and watch what happens your old pal? Henry: No, thanks. I don't want to watch, what unholy things Grump has planned for detective Harrison. I just had lunch not that long ago. Tom: I hope it's not dog related. Once a dog tastes human flesh, it's hard for it to respect it's master again. So I have heard.

As I said that I notice, Freddy looked a little nervous. I'm guessing she has not been in Grump for that long. It has taken me a long time for my fear to fall off my back. One day I just accepted that no one cared for me except the gang. That gave me the strength to not fear death. Knowing the biggest gang in the United States of America got my back. Daniel: So Freddy, what are you doing later? I'm just asking if you want to see a movie with me. The fellow that captured the world famous detective Harrison. As long as I know Daniel, he's always been awful in picking up chicks. He also sucks at being a nice guy.

Freddy: Sorry Daniel, I'm going to be a little busy this month. I got to ship a bunch of drugs down Highland Park. Thanks though. Daniel: Ha, that's ok. Hey anyways do you want some Dude Gums, Freddy? I stoled a bunch at the Dude Gum factory. I wish I stole a crate full of the stuff. Freddy: I'm flattered, but I heard Dude Gums are not very good for you. Especially for your eyes. Henry: She rejected you and won't even take your Gum. Just give up already,  Daniel, she's not going to bite. Daniel: Shut up, old man or I'll pimp slap your ass. Henry: What!? Did you even hear what you said? By the way, I am not even that old.

Henry: I hope you two morons won't act like this when we get to the Fish Tung factory. You do know the main boss of Grump will be there as well, right? It will be the first time I’ll probably ever see. I don’t even know anyone that knows his name.

Daniel: Wow What really? The founder of the whole gang will be there. Harrison must really have made life hell for Grump gang. 

Tom: Henry, you should give us a little bit of respected. I and Daniel just help you catch one the greatest detective on the face of this planet. You should recommend us for some type promotion. Henry: Why would respect I low rank gang bangers that couldn't even pass high school? You both failed upwards. Daniel: What the hell man, that's not even our fault the school district went bankrupt three years ago. Henry: You both almost ruined the mission. Freddy, you should have been there and seen it. Detective Harrison thought Tom and stupid Daniel were the biggest clowns. Harrison could tell both of you were all bark and no bite. It was sad. Freddy: Ha. I am glad to see all three of you guys are alright. The Van finally made it to the Tung Fish factory. They parked next to the main dock harbor. It smelled bad.

Henry: Alright boys get Harrison out of the goddamn van. Daniel immediately throws Harrison down on the concrete floor. Harrison left trench coat pocket ripped on the way down. Two of his button ripped off as well.

Tom: Where is everyone? I thought there would be a bunch gangster here already. Henry: I was told if detective Harrison was ever captured the founder would kill him personally. I guess he wants the world to know he captured detective Harrison. Instead of him mysteriously disappearing in history as a hero.

Tom: I assume the founder thinks Harrison, vanishing as a legend is too good of a death for him. He probably wants the world to know Grump organization is not to be messed with. Henry: That is true, Tom. The Grump founder must be on his helicopter flying over here right about now. I sent the founder our GPS location just know. The founder does not live close by, so we’ll all have to be here for a couple of hours. Daniel: It is super wack none of us is going to get any credit for nabbing detective old fart. Money cool in all, but bragging rights would have been great.

Daniel begins going through the van pulling out beers from one of Freddy’s storage containers.

Daniel: I found our consolation prize.

Tom: Daniel, that is Grump street property. That is not a good idea bro. Daniel: Yeah we’re Grump street, So let’s all celebrate. Haha. Freddy: Oh ahh... Henry: Freddy, I apologize on behalf of my goons miss behaviors. Daniel put those beers back right now! If those go missing Freddy can get in massive trouble from the higher-ups. Freddy: Those beers are my own stash. Sometimes I get paid for products instead of cash so you guys could drink up. I was to about to offer them anyways. Tom: Freddy, you're the best. I will try not to look drunk when the founder gets here. Henry: Please don't. It’s the first time I'll get to meet the man who signs my paychecks face to face. I and Daniel began started drinking. It's a perfect time to drink a beer. The alcohol smell covers the rotten fish gut stench surrounding us.

Freddy notice Henry was not drinking. Freddy: Henry, you deserve a drink just much as the other guys. Henry, why are you not drinking?

Daniel: Because he’s a fruit. Freddy laughs at Daniels joke. Freddy: Henry, you deserve a drink just much as the other guys. Capturing the world famous detective deserves a drink.  Henry looks really surprised and happy. So was I. I really didn’t think this underdog operation would work. We capture one of the greatest detectives of the world. He might be been an old geezer now, but he still a legend.

Tom: Henry you sure you don’t want? The beer will make you twice as happy.

Henry: No thanks. I don’t drink liquor at all. It reminds about family.

Tom: Me too man. Before my mom kick out my pope. I and my pope would drink every weekend. We would try to crash every local party we can. He was so funny back in the day.

Henry: Once again no thank you. I can’t even stand the smell of alcohol. So please step three steps back.

Tom: Hey Henry, what about your boy Harrison a beer? He should at least have a last drink. Henry: Harrison,  doesn’t drink.