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How can you have an identity crisis when you're not anybody?
How can you have an identity crisis when you're not anybody? | Source

The limousine slid to an elegant halt outside the glittering corporate headquarters. A terrifyingly well-dressed man emerged languidly strolled through the foyer. Everything was so familiar, he thought. Even the time-honored pictures of Ma and Pa Kettle hanging themselves and "Cleveland under glass", the first American city to be successfully fitted into a goldfish bowl, seemed very poised, a vindication of The Way Things Should Be.

The man was instantly recognized by the staff of the building and ushered respectfully through to the changing rooms. These rooms were made of marble, nobody was entirely sure how much marble, but the town of Carrera had gone out of business soon after the sale. Wagner’s cheerful ukulele music echoed discreetly through the enormous barn-like area, bouncing off the stone columns etched with the sayings of Nietzsche and other famous hedonists.

Ayn Rand ornamental chamber pots full of plastic flowers decorated the changing arbors in which the well-heeled gentry tended to their garments. The man put on his decayed dungarees, the fingerless gloves and the ancient overcoat. An overhead nozzle sprayed "Essence Mundis”, commonly known as "The Smell Of Humanity", imported of course, and rolled eloquently around in the executive garbage heap.

He went to the elevator, and ascended to the top floor. A large solid steel security door recognized him and opened immediately when he came out of the elevator. He was the first one there. He looked around fondly at the trappings of success at this level of the corporate world. The huge mahogany desk sat there with the remains of what appeared to be a chicken. The large specially made public urinal remained bolted to the wall in case of potential theft. Sentimentally the man through the remains of the chicken to a few of the specially imported rats.

His colleagues entered, similarly attired and a few smiles of recognition flickered around in the darkness. As the senior executive, the man was required to do the honors of starting the meeting. He approached the ancient incinerator, a venerable old oil drum, and threw in a match. The incinerator glowed happily, and they gathered around.

The man said, "Now – What are we going to do about this economy?"

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Comments 2 comments

Hello, hello, profile image

Hello, hello, 5 years ago from London, UK

An interesting and unusual story. Will it continued or just one off?


Paul Wallis profile image

Paul Wallis 5 years ago from Sydney, Australia Author

Not sure. This is basically a picture. I've had it in mind as a story for a video, but I wanted to put it down and have a look at it as it stands.

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