Jenkins!

I had to have a talk with Ted this week.

For a while now, he has been posting strange things on my Facebook wall. Maybe some of you saw these messages.

The first one questioned our company’s character:

The second one involved some sort of (hopefully staged) murder:

Still later, there was a threatening message about a corporate takeover.

Maybe it’s just me, but when one of your employees starts posting things on your Facebook wall about violent homicides and hostile takeovers, it’s probably time for sit-down.

The employees don’t like to meet with me because I’m larger than them. It can be intimidating.

I was ready for Ted to apologize. Maybe give me some flowers, an iPad or the new MacBook Air — something to make amends. But no. Instead, he insisted that the person posting the messages was NOT him. He claimed it was his evil twin brother, Jenkins.

I was skeptical.

But Ted was adamant.

Then he pointed something out. The posts not only featured his twin brother, they were coming from the company where his brother worked. A place called Dubbs Corp, run by a tyrannical leader, Jobe Dubbs.

Ted was right. That’s exactly where the posts were coming from.

I told Ted he better take care of this issue STAT. He immediately set off to find his brother at Dubbs Corp.

Soon enough, he arrived at the corporate headquarters–a building designed and inspired by the CEO himself.

Dubbs Corp is a somewhat shady operation. The company’s stated mission is to “Clean every penny in the world.”

Hmm… pennies? And yet the CEO drives a Lamborghini that is towing a private Cessna jet that is towing a 100-foot yacht? I’m serious: He just tows all that stuff around behind his Lamborghini. It takes him forever to get anywhere, but I guess he’s making his point, right?

Anyway, I’m willing to bet that Dubbs Corp is into more nefarious activities — despite what their marketing material says.

Ted began searching for his brother. Finally, he found the right cubicle.

Jenkins was sitting on his desk, surrounded by pennies, pictures of the CEO, and a group of ne’er-do-wells.

Dubbs Corp had the same institutional carpet as Hedger Corp. The same color too: “Drabnessocity.”

A wise choice, Dubbs. But I can’t say I agree with your choice of wall decor.

The brothers approached each other. Ted was somewhat paler than his twin, but otherwise the resemblance was uncanny.

“I knew you would eventually come if I kept posting those Facebook messages,” Jenkins said. Then, for emphasis, he banged on a large drum.

Ted was startled. His nerves were on edge.

He looked to the left. Who were these other characters? What was with that overly happy picture of the CEO? And why the guitars? Nothing seemed to make sense.

“I have formed a band,” Jenkins announced. “I lured you here because we are making a music video and you need to be my stunt double.”

After delivering this news, Jenkins leaned back in his chair and relished his dastardly plan.

Ted began to sweat. A stunt double? This was not good. Jenkins could be very persuasive, and often manipulated Ted into doing things he would NEVER normally do. Like the time he convinced Ted that men everywhere were embracing the “ballerina look” as the latest, coolest trend.

This turned out to not be true.

Ted was jolted back to the present when Jenkins banged on his drum again.

“My three band members play the bass guitar,” he yelled. “I am the drummer!”

Then, without warning, the band launched into a harsh, discordant mash-up of sounds. The drums were deafening. There was way, WAY too much bass, which was not a surprise, but still.

Ted instinctively rolled into the fetal position, and tried to go to his happy place.

Then the “music” stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

“You will be my stunt double in the music video,” Jenkins informed Ted. “Or my band will perform an extended jam session for Mr. Bojangles.”

Ted panicked.

His dog, Mr. Bojangles, had highly sensitive ears. There was no way he would survive a jam session.

Ted had no choice. He would have to be the stunt double.

Jenkins grabbed the flip camera, and they were off.

The next few hours were not fun for Ted.

It didn’t help that Jenkins kept thinking he was filming but actually wasn’t. That darn red button on the flip cam was hard to push in.

Finally, the band finally decided to call it quits after they froze Ted into a block of ice and realized it would take hours for him to melt out.

On the way back to Dubbs Corp they passed Hedger Corp and tossed Ted out of the car.

Grandma Bernice happened by at one point and bid him a pleasant hello. She did not inquire further.

The ice was slowly melting. Ted was chilly, but otherwise content. He was far away from Jenkins and his gang. And since he was ensconced in ice, there was no way he could work. He couldn’t do anything. It was actually nice to have this forced downtime. He made a mental note to freeze himself into a block of ice more often.

Next week: As Ted’s ice chamber melts, Chachi inspires a new employee satisfaction campaign that backfires spectacularly.