Chapter Text
The daunting gray skies that surround SmileStudios inc threaten to start raining as the day rolls by. Misterman hurries to finish with his work, his hands race to finish animating the last couple frames before the deadline. He's always struggling to meet deadlines at work, with each day they give him and his other unfortunate coworkers more work and less pay and it only brings Misterman more stress.
He snaps out of his trance as his desk is slammed with heavy paperwork. “Hey Guyfella, I didn’t scare you did I?” It was his boss, Ross Strickman. His tall and menacing stance makes misterman shrink into his office chair, looking at his bosses piercing eyes and back at the tower of work Strickman surprised him with. Misterman gulps, “Not at all, I was just finishing up these last couple of frames. What's this for?” He says as he cautiously lifts a finger pointing to the paperwork.
He doesn't remember towers of paper work being a part of his job, he was supposed to be just an animator. “It's for you, I need these looked over and signed by tomorrow.” Reclaims Strickman, as he smooths out his coat sleeves, his expensive watch flashing Mistermans tired brown eyes.
“With all due respect, Mr. Strickman, I'm supposed to leave after sending these frames to our editing department, and I have other deadlines to catch up with.” A loud grunt leaves Strickmans mouth as he obviously clears his throat, Misterman holds his breath, fearing he rambled too much. “Work doesn't slow down for anyone, especially in this field, Mr. Guyfella.”
Strickman exclaims as he tries to put a fake smile on for Misterman, one you can tell is hiding anger. “I’ll see you tomorrow Guyfella, and remember, always deliver with a smile.” Misterman feels his blood boil as Mr. Strickman leaves his cubicle laughing tauntingly. He feels a lump in his throat form, he's never going to leave. He's stuck in the grasp of corporate greed, he balls his tablet pen in his hand. He stops and breathes, his chest slowly rising up and down, listening to his breathing and the surrounding silence and occasional keyboard clacking.
He releases his pen. ‘I'm going on break.’ He stands up from his work space, stretching after hours of being hunched over his tablet and computer. The break room was ok, it was a small but cozy area, can't ask for much when your boss won't even look you in the eye because you're not worth his time. Misterman slumps onto the worn out couch, scrolling on his phone.
“Misterman, good to see you out of that cubicle, how are you?” Misterman recognized that voice immediately, he looked up with a soft smile, “hi Daisy, good to see you too.” Daisy was his best friend, they met way back in college, Misterman studied animation while Daisy studied graphic design.
He groans tiredly, “Strickman gave me even more work before I go home.” Daisy listened, her eyes showing how worried she is for her tired friend. “Misterman, you were supposed to go home like 30 minutes ago right?” He looks up at Daisy, nodding. “I was finishing up on my original task, remember those frames I was finishing up? Finally completed that, all I need to do is send them off.” “I'm proud of you Misterman, you work so hard. No matter how hard the task is, you always deliver great animation. Me and the others in the editing department love receiving your work”.
Misterman smiles at his dear friend, “Thanks daisy, how are things on your end?” She sighs, “Tough, you know how Mr. Strickman feels about half assed work. He's so hypocritical, he does nothing but demand more from us, all for what? Just so he can take our credit and still get a high profit? Bullcrap I tell you”. Mistermans eyes widen, he usually doesn't see Daisy this stressed, he looks around at the security cameras, crap. “Daisy, lower your voice, we're still at work, please”.
She doesnt stop.
“Mr. Strickman is so full of himself it should be a crime to be so far up your own ass, just yesterday he was talking with the secretary, Rodrick, about how easy we are to boss, that it makes his job feel like nothing.” Her voice raises. Misterman tries to calm her. “Daisy, what's wrong? You're really worrying me, what happened?” He raises his voice to match hers. She cries out,
“I got fired!”
Misterman stops, he steps back and notices how distraught his friend is. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. “I got laid off today. He says he doesn't need me anymore. He says he found someone better than me, something faster. I just finished cleaning up my desk, I just came by looking for you to say goodbye.” Misterman was still in shock, she was one of the best in her department. The same boiling anger from earlier rises back up in him again.
“He fired you? You're the best on your team, you're the fastest worker here already. How could he do this to you?” He exclaims agitated, his friend just looks down at the floor and back at him. “I’ll find another line of work, maybe I’ll get lucky and find a job like this, but”.
She pauses, tears starting to flow down her soft cheeks. “No job will compare to working with you after all these years, Misterman.” He feels awful, his stomach hurts just watching his friend so sad, he pulls her into a hug, she returns it immediately. “Don't worry, everything will eventually get better”. Misterman exclaims softly. He’s had it with this mistreatment.
“Take some deep breaths ok? I left some tea bags in the cabinet, you can make some, I have to go back to work”. Daisy sniffles, nodding her head, “ok, thanks for hearing me out misterman”. He smiles kindly at her. He gets up and leaves the room, he has someone to march up to and demand justice.
After turning in his work, Misterman finally feels some weight taken off his shoulders, but not all of it.
Oh no.
The halls echo the sound of Mistermans shoes, marching to Mr. Strickmans huge office doors, His name plated in gold on the wall next to the entrance. With each step, Mistermans anxiety rises, his heart beating louder each time, he pulls his fear down and musters up all his courage.
*Knock knock.*
Oh god. What am I doing?
The door opens, the secretary at the entrance, Rodrick. He's always been a pain to tolerate, he's just one of the few brainwashed employees that are actually devoted to working for Strickman. Always growling at his feet, as pathetic as he can be, it's gotten him farther than the rest of them in this company, at least money wise, almost making as much as Mr. Strickman.
“Can I help you, Misterman? Make it quick please, Mr. Strickman is a very busy man”.
‘Yeah, sure.’
“I'm here to speak with Strickman-”
“MR. Strickman”. Ugh
“Please, it's urgent, Rodrick.”
Rodricks smug face turns more annoyed, but as he's about to tell misterman off,
“Enough of that Mr. Villanueva. Let the man in, now. My patience is thin.”
Rodricks eyes widen, so do Mistermans, ‘It's working, I'm almost in. Now to tell him to apologize to Daisy, it's the least she deserves after working for years here’. Rodrick steps to the side, Strickmans large mahogany desk in the center, and Strickman sitting in his dark office chair facing his window as big as the whole wall looking out at the big city beneath them.
Misterman stops at the front of his desk, he swallows his spit down his dry throat, trying to focus. “Mr. Strickman, I heard about Daisy. May I ask why you chose your decision?”
The room stays silent.
Strickman still hasn't faced Misterman, leaving Misterman talking to the back of his seat. He hums, “ Are you referring to Daisy Chandler?” His voice echoes the room, his dark yet deeply haunting voice sends shivers down Mistermans spine, Rodricks too. Misterman gulps, “Yes, she was one of the fastest workers here”. Strickman scoffs, chuckling quietly, “Faster than you too, in fact better at her job than you”.
Strickman stops chuckling.
Fuck.
“Oh really? My Guyfella, what got into your pretty head?” Misterman freezes, he royally screwed up his career, he cant feel his legs as he sees strickmans office chair turn slowly, finally facing Misterman. He may be frozen in place, but he stands tall. Knowing that he's standing for the good of his friend and quite honestly, everyone else in this company feels too intimidated by the man. “Sense, Mr. Strickman, sense. I believe that what you have done to Daisy is unfair. It's disrespectful for you to get rid of our hard workers that bring their all to this company. How dare you fire our best workers just for your pockets to be overflowing with cash.” Misterman exclaims proudly, his voice radiating courage.
“Enough.”
His voice booms throughout the room. He stands up immediately, slowly walking to Misterman. He sees how visible Mistermans legs shake, but still keeps his eyes on him. “I'm not going to sit here and hear your pathetic voice whimper and whine for equality and justice. What I did to Daisy was a favor, to look for a new line of work, because hand drawn animation is dead.” Misterman gasps.
“That's right. You, and everyone here are just here for a little longer before I finally have all the resources I need to replace each and everyone of you.” Mistermans breathing quickens.
“Tell me, Guyfella, have you heard of Artificial Intelligence? How revolutionary it is, how much better it is compared to you lackeys? Listen to me closely, you were supposed to be the last to fire but now? You're out. Now!” He exclaims loudly, slamming his fist on his desk beforeRodrick calls for security to escort Misterman out immediately. He runs fast.
Dodging the security as he books it to the elevator. His skinny legs carry him as fast as he could as he pants, the elevator opens as he runs to it, ramming into the small box, pressing the close button frantically as the security guards run to Misterman and the elevator he's currently cornered in, the doors close just on time as he hears the fading sound of banging on the door.
He catches his breath, sweat running down his forehead, clutching his heart in shock of what just happened. AI? Is he really getting replaced that easily like Daisy? What about his other employees there? His mind runs with so many thoughts his head hurts with a painful headache. Once he finally escapes the building he walks to his red car, the rain falling on his body, the cold water cooling him down. He sighs,
“What am I going to do now?”
He takes a moment before hopping into his car and driving away. SmileStudios fading away into the gray and rainy background.