Look, we all make mistakes. It was just something Diz thought would be a good idea, it was only three weeks.
We had no idea. Fine, WBW....something bad happened. I made a mistake. Diz made a mistake...There isn't really much point in hiding it. You're going to find out since the detective here, WBWs only little David Caruso has been sticking his face in company business.
It all started three weeks ago. Diz and I was sitting around the office smoking fine Mexican Cigars. Diz, looking long and hard at his computer screen spoke up "John, (my real name) we need more activity in the Lounge." I nodded in agreement since, he's the boss man. I've long considered those slackass Lounge mods to be the lamer side of the site. It's part of the reason, when approached with the idea from Diz, of being the Activities Improvement Moderator, assigned to boost posting around here, I jumped at the idea. "I agree Diz." I replied, and the rest was history.
My first thought was to call Honda. He answered, his stupid Canadian accent assaulted my ears through the phone line. "Hey there bro." he shouted, I still have no idea what the idiot calls me "bro" all the time..and "brah" I mean, I don't understand his shit sometimes. "Honda, we need you to boost your activity in the site a little bit." I groaned out, once he finally stopped talking about how awesome he is. "It's just, I've been going through a lot lately." he said, his tone slowly turning from cocky to depressing. The next forty five minutes of my life I'll never get back, the forty five minutes he went on and on about his girlfriend troubles. "Yeah, focus that energy..umm, bro. Turn it into gold." I muttered, shocked at how quiet the world became after he stopped whining on about some skank and his gay feelings. He tried to talk to me about more random bullshit before I interrupted him. "Honda, we need you into the office, bring clothes for three weeks." he started to reply but I just hung up. He'll make something up about how it was a bad connection or something, or try to text me fifty more times about how wacky looking his hair is in the morning. Idiot. He needs a diary or a sex change or something.
I decided after hearing how mentally unstable Honda was, I should see if Kanzen could be wrangled back into action. Just the idea of calling Michigan made it feel like I was more likely to get robbed or raped in my lifetime. But I no choice, Diz doesn't pay me eighty million dongs a year to half ass it. I wonder why I get paid it Vietnamese currency, and if that's a lot of money...I still need to google that. Anyway, Kanzen. The phone rang and rang, I assumed he had some wacky Japanese girl ringtone where she's having an orgasm while eating poop or something, and he was just stalling because he fond it interesting. "Hello." Kanzen finally answered. "Is this Kanzen?" I asked. "Yes." he replied. I'm always caught off guard when calling Kanzen because he sounds so much like an investment banker. His accent is no accent, if there were ever to be a human computer, it would sound like Kanzen, intelligent, and designed to make you feel comfortable. Perhaps one day he will terrorize the world as a Terminator, but that's neither here nor there, nor over there. Kanzen isn't much of a talker. I asked him to boost productivity around the site, he told me to go fuck myself so hard that "You weep blood and shit." I caught him at a bad time, he was playing a video game. They always make him edgy. "I need you to come in, bring three weeks worth of clothes." I ordered him. There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, I could tell he was waiting for me to say "hello" but, I didn't. Silence. About a minute passed before he finally choked back his rage long enough to say "Fine." then hung up. He ended the call before he even ended the word. I can only imagine him dramatically pushing the "end" button on his iPhone in a fit of rage.
Next on my list would be a nice change of pace, an actual moderator. "Hello?" asked Lindros. "This is John, the activities moderator. We're looking to improve posting in the non-porn parts of the site, we could use your help." Somehow I could tell just from the sound of his voice he was wearing sunglasses. "I think maybe it's time you guys start listening to us...the mods!" he demanded. Lindros went on for quite some time, about all the improvements he would to see implemented in the site. I doodled little sketches of him slowly eating a cock into a flip book while he rambled on and on. "Good suggestions Mr. The Dros...I've taken note of what you said *taps pen on flipbook* and I will most certainly let Diz know." I replied after what seemed like hours. "I need you to come in, bring in three weeks worth of clothes, also, your thinking cap." I joked, trying to lighten the mood. He then suggested I sit on the thinking cap, since I am a faggot. Stay Classy, Lindros. Good way to talk to your superiors. I finally hung up on him after he agreed to come in, despite his hectic schedule in which he managed to make time to convert porn DVDs.
Last but not least on my list was Sugarpie. I hated talking to Sugarpie. I work for the internet, I don't know how to talk to girls. I'm always pretty okay until I start thinking about their breasts..then I accidentally just blurt out breasts. It's pretty sad, but, even though I had been dreading this, saving it until last, Sugarpie was necessary. "Hello." she said in her attractive, upbeat Canadian accent. Somehow it didn't irritate me like Hondas did, it was sweet and cute, and it filled my heart with a little bit of joy. "Breasts" I replied. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes in frustration. "I mean hello Sugarpie, how are you doing?" she started talking about modeling, and how cool her iPhone is....the usual girl stuff, I listened and nodded politely, since I'm pretty sure I can chalk his up as flirting, in my life book of girl interactions. It's not metaphorical, I keep a book. I show it to all my friends, I call it, "The Big Book Of Jelly". Anyway, I told her about the sites lacking in non-porn activity, and for some reason she took full responsibility, I assured her she was beautiful and interesting and that it was entirely Hondas fault. "I need you to come in to the offices, bring three weeks worth of clothes... breasts." I hung up immediately out of embarrassment. She tried calling back, but I played it cool by sliding my phone under my pillow and humming a little song. Chicks can't get enough of the big John.
Now, we decided the planning phase would be the hard part. The plan was simple, we put them (Honda, Kanzen, SP and Lindros) in a room together, and we push them to come up with plans, funny/interesting thread ideas...it was a good plan, it sounded good anyway, on paper.
Then, day of..Diz called me up. He decided my plan wasn't going to yield results. He suggested it would be a paid vacation for a bunch of punks on the company dime. "The company can't afford that kinda of disregard for our dongs." he yelled into the phone. Diz went on to tell me that the only we he would green light the idea, is that if they were not given the option to simply "try to do something." but we're in fact....forced, to do something. I was intrigued. The plain Diz laid out was simple, we take them to the boardroom, and we lock them in. We leave them in there for three weeks until they fix our site. It was a desperate idea, but these were desperate measures.
That, is what happened.
