The head of accounting is taking me on a tour through the facilities, explaining that the curriculum is overhauled; they’ve done completely away with tests. “Really?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “So is there some kind of final task or something before graduation?” The head of accounting says nothing, only smiles. He walks to a mannequin of Herbert Kornfeld, the Model Accountant (that’s an Onion reference, for those of you in the know) and pulls down his demure set of glasses. A secret gateway opens in the wall, just like the clock entrance to the Batcave. My trepidation grows as we walk down a dank, winding staircase. Finally, we stop before a row of bubbling green pools that are carved into the subterranean rock. I look over my shoulder; the door we entered through looks like it’s a million miles away, a tiny dot of light at the top of the stairwell. “THIS is what our accountants do before they graduate,” the head of accounting says, a sadistic smile plastered to his bespectacled face. Before I can ask specifics, I see the pools bubbling, and six foot tall eggs rise to their surface. The eggs crack open, revealing the withered bodies of students I once knew, only completely stripped of muscle and wearing bland business casual with matching spectacles. I backpedal in horror as they come galloping at me, sallow light winking off the metal penclips that are arrayed in a neat row on their pocket protectors. I stumble backwards, mouth gaping, trying to say, “NO!” All that comes out, however, is “nuh, nuh, nuh—” Desperately, I reach into my pocket and open my eReader to Echo. Magic flash. A premium blend of Optimum Nutrition’s protein powder appears in my hand. What the hell? Suddenly, it dawns on me. I hastily stuff a handful of protein powder into my mouth, stand up, and blow it at the charging accountants as if I was the best damn fire breather on the Vegas Strip. The powder billows mistily across the accountants and they burst into flames, screaming as their flesh peels back and reveals charred gremlin skeletons. In this world of emasculated nerds who stuff themselves with Starbucks machaccinofrappa lattes or whatever the hell it is now, protein powder is the new garlic/silver bullet.
Whether it be middle-management, corporate drones, or social justice warriors, stand ready to repel a Gollum-style charge with a blast of Manstuff (go ahead with the double entendres). Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle