Fizzo Jobhernia Part Four

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  No Houses

More Lizard-Dudes!

"Squad , form up!" he screamed.  He had finally broken down and reenlisted in the Herkonian Army.  Sure it was a bummer he was back here but in a way it was a relief at the same time.  Life on the outside offered nothing but bullshit, and he tried his best to avoid bullshit!




"Jobhernia, you pathetic piece of shit!  I ask you to do one little thing and you can't even do that!" 

He felt little drops of spittle hitting him in the face as Captain Jaws screamed at him.  Of course, his real name was Proton Excelsior, but no one called him that.  He was Jaws and living up to his nickname very well, thank you! 

He continued laying the verbal wood into Fizzo, "You are a compete and incompetent Dick-Ass!; you..."

The tongue lashing went on but Fizzo heard nothing after that.  He felt rage building up dangerously inside him and tried, quite unsuccessfully, to control it.  He saw himself watching from a distance as Jaw's tirade continued; then he saw his right fist slam into Jaws' jaw and he went down hard, landing on his back.


Goodbye to the military, again!




Somehow he'd bullshitted someone into believing he was qualified to be a school counselor.  He'd only been trying for the school custodian's job but they had been so desperate to find someone, anyone, to fill their open school counselor position that once he learned they needed someone right away and weren't going to check references until later, he figured he may as well make up some bullshit, get the job, and after they saw how good he was they'd be super-reluctant to let him go.  Besides, he figured his experience at life, not some regurgitated shit out of a book, made him a kind of expert anyway.  




So far, so good; granted, he hadn't actually had any students in to see him but it was almost lunchtime and that was good.  His stomachs were growling at him.  His mind was on the field mouse and cheese sandwich he'd packed for lunch when a timid knock sounded on his door.

"Come in," he said, hoping it was another faculty member wondering if he'd like to sit with them at lunch.  Instead, a young girl came through the door.  "How may I help you?"

She replied so quietly that Fizzo had trouble making out the words, "Ah, yeah, I hope so anyway.  My parents are up in my grill about my new boyfriend Gulperoo.  See, they don't like him and insist that he's only after one thing."

"And what is it they think this Gulperoo's after?"

She gave him a strange look and said, "Are you for real?"

"What makes you think I'm not real?  You know, seeing imaginary lizards is a sign of having a lot of deep emotional baggage."


"I said, seeing imag--"

"No, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, oh; failure to understand that you have a problem in the first place is also a sign of--"

"This is bullshit; your 'advice' is bullshit, and you're bullshit!" and with that she stomped on all four legs to the door. 

"I'm sorry for whatever I've done or said to make you so hostile; please, don't sla--," but the room echoed with the sound of the door slamming shut behind her.  "---m the door!" he finished to an empty room.  He thought about what he'd said to make her so mad but couldn't figure it out; besides, it was lunchtime! 



  " I said to him, 'What is your prob, man?"

Fizzo briefly wondered if his necktie could be looped over the ceiling beam so he could hang himself; man, was this dude ever boring!  He was in the lunchroom, feeling vulnerable because you had to sit upright, and had been trying the eat his field mouse and cheese in peace when this super-dickhead had asked if the chair across from him was taken.  He wished now he'd have said yes, by his foot, but not wanting to be rude he'd answered no.  Big mistake!  The dude flopped down in the chair across the table from him, opened his mouth to spew words, and hadn't shut up since.  He had to get away from this clown. 

"If you'll excuse me?" he tried.

"Excuse you for what?  Eh, ha, ha!"

Oh brother!  He left the table and the babbling idiot behind; as the guy apparently didn't even notice he was alone, and just walked away, with the guy still babbling his bullshit, maybe to the unfortunate bastard at the next table?  He made his way back to his office, full but unsatisfied; the motor  mouthed dick had seen to that.  As he approached his office door a glowering dude was waiting for him, wearing a Lizard State baseball cap, pulled down low over his eyes; his jeans were hanging off his ass in the style so popular among the youth, and shockingly, he was walking upright. 

Anything to stand out from the crowd, including walking around with a 2X4 up your ass, huh?  He just didn't understand the youth of today.  His generation had done some stupid-ass shit but sporting a posture-erection wasn't one of them.  He didn't like him right from the start.  There was the whole erection deal and to top it off, he was smoking a cigarette, even though it was supposed to be against the rules.  "I'm afraid if you're here to see me you'll have to put that out."

The kid looked at him through slitted eyes, more slitted than normal that is, and shook his head, replying, "Whatever there, Pops," and flicked his cigarette casually away, where it landed smoldering in some tall grass.  Fizzo walked over and pawed some dirt on it, putting out the small grass fire that had started. 

"Watch what you're doing with that; you could have burned down the whole school!" 

The kid continued to wear a smart ass smirk on his face and responded, "Yeah, that would be a real shame!"

Fizzo felt a cold hatred go through him and it was all he could do to not say something but he realized he had to act professionally.  "What can I do for you?"

The kid screwed up his face and spit, "I guess I'm supposed to talk to the counselor; and that's you I heard."

Fight back the hatred!  Fizzo thought, "Ah, come in."

The kid slouched his way sullenly by him and he had to remind himself, chill!   Then the kid dropped down into a nearby empty desk. 

"Ah, how about if you sit in this chair in front of my desk?"

The sullen kid fixed him with a dagger-glare and replied, "And why don't you blow me Pops?" he said and headed for the door. 

Fizzo knew he should just let him go but he had reached the end of his tether.  This smart ass punk needed to be taught a lesson and like a vicious dog tied safely in the yard you pass by every day, and one day the dog has freed himself from his leach, white bits of slobber foaming from his mouth, he attacked the slouching kid, catching him off balance.  There was only one problem; the kid was erect and he wasn't, but he gave his knees a frightful beating.  The kid took it for awhile, openly laughing at Fizzo as he wailed away on his knee caps, then drew back his leg and kicked him heavily.  Fizzo suddenly found himself airborne and the last thing he saw was the ground rushing up to meet him as he fell towards it face first, then blackness.




Slowly, like he was trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle with several missing pieces, Fizzo swam out of the fog.  Nothing made sense.  Where was he and what had caused this?  A guy was speaking to him but what he was saying he didn't have a clue.

" alright?  Hey, hey!" and he was being shaken something fierce. 

"Wwhheerree am I?"

The guy answered, "I came in to see how things were going and I found you like this; somebody wailed on you but good!"

He had a dim recollection of having words with someone but--oh yeah, now he remembered, a student had come in to his office and had lipped off to him, and there had been an altercation; and guessing from the fact his head felt like a pain balloon on the end of his neck, he had lost.  He recounted the whole sad episode to Principle Moorovian, who shook his head sadly.

"Then I'm afraid we'll have to let you go."

What?  The kid had brought it on himself.  "Sir, the kid was a complete dick."

"I'll agree with you there but he's also the son of our biggest donor and let's see; money for the school, verses a sedar-a-dozen councilor who can easily be replaced; hmm!  What should I decide?  Oh, I know, not you!"


And so once again, Fizzo found himself without a job.  What on Herkonia did he have to do to earn a caylon?






Submitted: September 01, 2014

© Copyright 2021 Mike Stevens. All rights reserved.

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