Better the devil you know

The diary of Phelan Tweed, HR Manager in Hell

Mr B can be a hard taskmaster. Today he advised me that last night two of the horsemen of the apocalypse had lost their steeds on a drunken work night out in Blackpool, Hell on earth you might say. He was in a right mood. You should have heard the language, obviously it’s not for inclusion here but let’s just say it was like an industrial revolution. As you may already be aware, because it was ‘work related’ it’s hard for us to argue ‘what happens in Blackpool, stays in Blackpool’ however much we would wish for it. He does seem pretty angry most of the time these days, I mean, more than usual.

He was really ranting on. ‘We can’t call it the four horsemen department if two of them haven’t got horses, and you know what Famine’s like, with his two hour lunch breaks, he probably ate it’ I tried to calm him down a bit but it wasn’t working. ‘Do you want me to carry out an investigation’ I asked. It is preferable to me if we at least try and follow the procedure in these cases but I was unsure of the grounds for disciplinary. Was it a breach of the alcohol policy or misuse of office equipment? It was a quandary. ‘No he sighed, just try and locate the horrible beasts and if you can’t, just order a new one with the transport team. But you can tell them from me they can’t claim any expenses this month and neither can the rest of them’. Well, I thought, that’s going to go down like a lead balloon later, if one thing was certain on the expenses list each month, it was Death and taxis.

Published by G Turner

Gavin Turner is a poet and writer of short fiction. He lives in North West England. Some of his work is published here on this site and more recently in other journals and publications.

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