Fizzo Jobhernia, Part 3

Reads: 50  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  No Houses
More Fizzo!

Submitted: August 12, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 12, 2014



"I was watching you, and that's not anywhere close to how we here at Horago Hovercrafts treat potential customers.  I think it would be nice if you didn't come to work tomorrow."

Fizzo was caught by surprise, not so much due to the fact he'd just been fired, but there was no way Dak E could have seen or heard him unless there was a secret camera trained on the exact spot.  "You were watching me?  Okay, where's the camera?"

Dak E shot him a look that said he didn't know what he was talking about.  Fizzo shrugged, and returned him a look that said,

"You can deny it all you want, but I know there's a hidden camera somewhere; is it up there, in the heating vent?"

Dak E replied with his eyes,  "Surely you can't be serious; and frankly, I'm a little insulted!"

Fizzo scoffed, and gave him a look that said, "I am serious, and don't call me Shirley, or Frank!"

Dak E shot back with his eyes, "F**K you!"

Fizzo glared and thought, "No, f**k you!"

Dak E looked like he'd been shot, "I think you'd better leave while you can still walk!"

Fizzo thought back, "Oh yeah?  You and what army?", before realizing that Dak E was actually speaking.The sound of his actual voice shocked him back to reality,

"So, there's a camera?  Your behavior justifies the need to keep an eye on everyone."




Fizzo walked with all four legs protesting, into the gathering gloom and through puddles made from the falling rain.  He angrily kicked one, and a fountain of dirty water sprayed into the air and splashed to the ground.  The neon light from the Horago Hovercrafts sign was reflected in the puddles.  He was totally dejected.  He no longer worked there, and he'd resigned from The Herkonian Army, the only job he'd ever felt comfortable with; now what?



He awoke groggy and not in the best of moods.  This morning he was set to begin his latest try at escaping the powerful clutches of the Herkonian Army; it was selling aluminum siding by phone, not exactly a stepping stone to better things, but a lizard had to eat, and it turns out this was all he was qualified to do.  Twenty five years of army life, and for what?  But he'd decided to make the best out of it.


Five cups of joemamma and he still felt like shit.  So far this morning, let's see, he'd been hung up on at best, and called a fudge-packing lizard bastard and then hung up on at worst.  He felt a migraine coming on, and his hearts were pounding because of the joemamma.  Lucky him, he got the worst of the side effects, but none of the benefits.  His jittery hand reached out to dial the holocorder, and he mentally prepared himself for dealing with another dick head.  He dialed and waited.  Then the face of a middle-aged lizard appeared on his viewing screen.

"Yeah, hello?"

Fizzo started reading from the prepared text he'd been given to read, "Yes, hello, it's your lucky day sir; I've been authorized to offer our indestructible aluminum siding for only two thousand cayons.  Do friends and neighbors mistake your house for a trash recycling place because of your house siding turning dark and hanging off in strips of what can only be described as Haina shit?  When you cover your house with our new indestructible aluminum siding, that problem is solved; how does that sound sir?"  Seconds passed, and there was no reply from the lizard on the other end.  In fact, Fizzo was talking to the dude's couch, as there was no sign of him.  "Hello, sir?"

At last the dude's bored and angry-looking face reappeared on the screen, and he was holding a can of Tritar, an alcoholic beverage, "Oh, you'll have to excuse me, I tuned you out there; see, I'm sick of getting unsolicited calls from slimy dick heads like you and decided since hanging up didn't get rid of you bastards, I'd just walk away and do something useful with my time, and wait until you got as sick of the sound of your droning, bullshit voice as I am, and hang up, so I thought I'd grab a Tritar; I hope you don't mind?  On second thought, I don't really give a shit whether you mind or not.  Since I signed the do-not-call list, I'm getting even more; ten, fifteen call a day.  They really ought to call it the "By all means, call and bother me as often as you can" list."

Fizzo felt something snap inside.  He was just a lizard doing his best to make a cayon, and here was a dude flipping him a ration of shit.  "Sir, is that your ass or your face?  I would hope it's your ass, cause if it's your face, you've got real problems!" 

The face staring back at him from the holocorder turned about fifty shaded of livid, and the dude spouted venom into the microphone, "F**k you!  F**k you!  F**k you!"

"Wow, what a witty and clever comeback; I've never heard that particular phrase before; hang on, I want to get a pen and write it down so I remember; let's see, how did it go?  F**k you!  F**---"  Suddenly he was staring at a blank screen; the dude had hung up on him.  "Screw you!" shouted Fizzo to the blank screen.  Suddenly, the face of his boss appeared on the screen.

"In my office now !"

Fizzo was shocked; they'd been monitoring the call; bastards!




"What was that bullshit?" asked his boss, Landon Crease, as soon as Fizzo shut his office door.

"Sorry, but the dude was a throbbing tool; what would you have me do, sit there and take his shit?"  He could visibly see the flush of anger paint a darker shade of pissed upon Crease's face.  "Jobhernia, you're fired!"


Shit!  Not that he would miss this job, but he had  to make some cayon, and soon!


© Copyright 2018 Mike Stevens. All rights reserved.