| Friday Fax A Weekly Summary of Polywater® News of Incredible Importance | ||
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| Issue #536 |
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'Twas the Night before Christmas, and all through the warehouse, no batches were stirring, no one clicking a mouse. The bins were hung in Accounting with care, in hopes that orders would soon appear there. The salespeople were nestled all snug in their cubes, seeing visions of profit sharing from the sale of our lubes. And Sharon in her 'kerchief and a blue logo cap, had just settled down for a long desk nap, When out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my meeting to see what was the matter. Away to the reception area I flew like a Bruce Jenner discus, slipped on a lube spill and tore my meniscus. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave the luster of Type CG™ Cold Galvanizing Spray to the ground below. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature Buick painted green like John Deere. With a little old driver, so lively in step, I knew in a moment, it must be a rep. More rapid than eagles our salespeople came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, Sharon! Now, Dave! Now, Freddy and Lea! On, Jeffery! On, Charlie! On, Wade, Steve, and Christine! To the top of your game! To the top of the charts! Now get to Omaha! Get to LA! Get to Piscataway all!" As dry martinis on wild weekends fly, so too did this group take to the sky. It was off to the airport the salespeople flew, with the Buick full of samples, and the little rep too. And then in a twinkling, I heard several roars, then creaking and slamming of little car doors. As I delegated and empowered employees all around, right through the front door the rep came with a bound. He was dressed in polyester, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished from where ketchup he'd put. A bundle of orders he had flung on his back, but he looked like a hobo just toting his pack. His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how tremendous! His cheeks were like roses, his nose, red and bulbous. His droll little mouth was drawn up in glee, but the pocks on his chin showed a history of acne. The stump of a stogie he held tight in his teeth, and the stench, it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a gut, big as day, that shook when he laughed like a bucket of "J." He was a chubby old chump, with a touch of Tourette's, and I laughed when I saw him despite all the threats. With a wink of his eye and a look full of dread, soon let me know: "Pay commissions, or be dead!" He spoke not a word, but went straight to Accounting. He then filled all the bins--the sales were amounting! And laying his finger aside his nose, he flew to the furnace, and up he rose. He sprang to his Buick, to the sales team gave a whistle, and away he sped like a dog chasing gristle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" |
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| Copyright © 2008 American Polywater Corporation -- Issue Date: 12/19/08 |
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