This story is part of BlogFestivus: 12 short stories, 12 days, 12 Days of Christmas. An I.Q. of 12 is also extremely helpful but not required. Oh, the stories have to be exactly 144 words in length, too. You know, that’s 12 times 12. (Use a calculator if you need proof.) The real bitch of this challenge is that you have to incorporate the words from the famous “12 Days of Christmas” song, too. Sick stuff, really. You can find more of these unique stories by clicking this link for a complete list of festive BlogFestivus participants.
by Tom B. Taker
The nameplate on the desk read “Dream Facilitator” just below his name but his actual title was “Marketing Manager.” Harry used to joke he was like a Disneyland imagineer.
Inside the offices of the state-operated lottery Harry no longer told that joke. Officially his job consisted of “implementing strategic plans” that were “customer focused” but really he was just an agent of the government encouraging citizens to gamble.
Lately revenues had swan dived because of the economic downturn. His thoughts also frequently dwelled on his customers and an evolving opinion that the lotto was “unfair taxation of the stupid.” Hell, even the winners often ended up worse than where they started.
With a wink at a coworker, Harry flipped the letter of resignation on the desk of his boss with his very own lottery ticket in hand. Soon he’d be swimming in riches, too.
Hope Harry doesn’t get caught or else he’s up Swanee River without a paddle. 🙂
Poor Harry. All disillusioned with his job. And he’d thought it exciting at first. After his sense of justification was properly fed it seems he found a way to make them pay for what they had done.
Or something like that.
Something tells me he got away with it.
I thought it was the Happiest Place on Earth!?!?
That’s what they want you to think. Of course, as we learned earlier on this blog, even the Grim Reaper can visit that happy little land from time to time.