On Your Shoulder

"...To show you the error...of your ways."

Poppy scoffed. She was through clowning around, tired of having her time wasted, and not about to be undercut by some screwball who'd taken it upon herself to start telling her how to live her life. She inched in, mocking Anastasia's tone.

"Get...bent."

She started back around to her desk. "I dunno what kinda fantasy world you're living in, but listen up, kiddo: this ain't La-La Land. Stuff like this doesn't happen. You don't play these kinda games in the real world."

As Poppy watched, Anastasia's smile actually faded. This made Poppy feel triumphant.

"That's what I thought. Besides, Poppy Sorenson has no conscience. So, although I've gotta give you points for originality, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to dismiss you. Again."

She pointed to the door, and returned to work. But Anastasia still didn't budge.

"You cannot continue running from your virtue...Poppy Eve Sorenson."

Poppy reflexively stood back up, triggered by indignance and defensiveness.

"Hey, hey, watch that 'Eve' cra—"

Her eyes narrowed. She warily came around the desk once more, glaring suspiciously.

"How'd you know my middle name?"

Knowing she'd regained the upper hand, as it were, Anastasia's smile returned. She looked back into Poppy's hostile eyes, her own dear and innocent. For just a minute the two stared one another down. Then, Poppy pointed a declaratory finger.

"...You've been through my files, haven't you?"

Anastasia was unfazed. Her response skirted the accusation.

"Oh, Poppy...sweet, simple Poppy. You just refuse to understand."

Poppy veritably stormed back behind her desk. She grabbed the phone.

"You're pretty sick, you know that?" she asked, punching buttons. "You need some professional help!"

She'd almost finished dialing when the door opened. Tammy reentered.

"Oh, good." Poppy hung up and gesticulated to her companion. "Tam, you wanna escort this nutjob outta here?"

Tammy's expression turned downright bamboozled. She shifted her gaze between her partner, and where she seemed to be pointing.

"I...beg your pardon, Poppy?"

Poppy's frustration escalated. What in the hell was going on here?

"You heard me; I want her gone!" she snapped. "Hey, if you're not gonna do it, I'll just call security! How's that?"

"Poppy...

"What in the name of all that is holy are you talking about?"

The receiver dropped from the incredulous Poppy's hand, clattering on the desk. She couldn't believe she had to do this, but she emerged, stamped up behind her conscience, and grabbed her by the arms to show Tammy.

"Thissss!" she emphasized, violently shaking Anastasia. "I am talking, about, thissss! Do you not see her?!"

A gleefully grinning Anastasia stuck out her tongue and thumbed her nose. Tammy discreetly shuffled the few feet to where Poppy stood. She examined the empty space between Poppy's clutching hands, and slowed her voice to a patronizing tone.

"Is this your imaginary friend, Poppy?..." she asked, as if talking to a small and not especially bright child.

Anastasia's expression changed. She glared sourly, as her owner's jaw hit the floor.

"WHAT??!" Poppy screeched.

"She can't see me, Poppy; only you. You wouldn't expect to be able to see and hear everybody else's consciences, now would you?"

Poppy'd had more than enough. She unhanded Anastasia, dismissively shoving her off.

"Oh, get away from me!"

Tammy was of course oblivious to whom Poppy was directing this command. She took a modicum of offense to this broadside. She retorted in the same condescending manner, now with a dash of her own indignance tossed in.

"As you wish, Poppy." She about-faced, turned her nose up, and marched back out the door, yanking it closed.

"Wha—oh, no no no, Tammy, th-that w-I-I didn't m—"

She tried to stop her, but was too late; slam! Poppy followed, but lost her energy at the door. She let her head thud against it. She heard her conscience's voice behind her.

"Hm. Good riddance to bad rubbish, if you ask me," Anastasia shook her head, hands on hips. "I don't know why we put up with her."

Poppy felt a surge of fury ignite her. She whirled on Anastasia with fire in her eyes.

"You!!"

She marched back with boiling blood, pointing one angry quivering finger.

"I...will...murder...you."

Her conscience's only reply was a waggle of her own index finger and a scolding t'sk.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah. Now, Poppy, she who kills her spirit so kills her soul."

"I'll chance it," Poppy growled through clenched teeth, cracking her knuckles. She neared and neared, waiting for just the right moment to pounce. When she thought she had it, she made a sudden lunge. But at the last possible second, Anastasia calmly stepped aside, causing Poppy to belly-dive square into her desk.

"OOOohff!"

Anastasia merrily twirled yet again, using her sandals as ballet slippers. "Now then..." she began, clasping her hands. "Let's go ahead and get started, shall we?"

A bit intimidated for the first time, Poppy Sorenson steadied herself and turned around.

"You-you...what, you-you brainwashed Tammy now too?"

"Tammy is immaterial, Poppy. Annoying, and a gigantic pain in the heinie, but immaterial. More importantly, you fired that sweet lovely Suzy as you have dozens of hard-working individuals—with zero just cause whatsoever. You know full well she put everything she had into her job. You didn't fire her to increase productivity. You didn't even particularly need to lighten the workload." Anastasia's words slowed at the final accusation, telling Poppy what she knew, but would not acknowledge.

"You fired her solely for your own selfish sport and pleasure."

Poppy leaned against the desk, starting to breathe uneasy herself, as she possessed the ability to make her victims do. Also for the first time, she wasn't sure whether this was a joke or not.

"...What, were you listening at the door or something?..."

"Nobody deserves to be treated that way, Poppy," Anastasia sternly chided. "No one. I need hardly remind you the countless other examples of your renowned ruthlessness. Heaven knows your own family, not to mention your company, fears you." Seeing that she was getting through to Poppy, Anastasia made her next move. She chuckled.

"Your files?...Sure, Poppy. Your middle name's in your files.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to discuss a few things that aren't."

Anastasia approached, smiling coy and sweet. Her unassuming benevolence frightened Poppy, culling a small gasp from her. She backed up to the desk, reached behind for something to protect herself, and found an object.

"You stay away from me," she warned.

Both studied the item Poppy'd nabbed off her desk and was now pointing at Anastasia. It was a small bottle of liquid paper. They returned their eyes to one another.

"What are you planning to do, white me out?"

Poppy scurried behind the desk again, as if it were her base.

"I-I'm serious. I mean it. You try anything on me, I'm calling security."

Anastasia nodded, clasping her paws and rocking on her heels.

"Mm, good idea. I'm sure they'd just love to meet your imaginary friend."

She flashed her insufferably lovely smile. Poppy stopped and thought a moment.

"...A'right. Okay. Okay, I'm...I'm-I'm willing to negotiate here. Wh-why don't we jus—"

Her conscience held up a single hand. "Poppy...let's conclude the small talk portion of our program, shall we? You know every bit as well as I do, we have allllll day."

Poppy threw out a sigh, almost ready to start pleading.

"Look, uh, Antarctica, you've-you've gotta understand. This...this is a cutthroat company. It feeds on brutality. 'S full of evil women. But, we've-we've gotta be evil to survive! That's how the corporate world works! Have...oh, have you met Ellie in Human Resources? She is an absolute demon. She's a monster! Every single day sh—"

"You're babbling, Poppy. And you're avoiding the issue at hand. Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Up to you."

Poppy let out yet another frustrated sigh. But she was excused for the immediate moment. The door opened. Tammy called in.

"Pop-pyyyy??...It's Tam-myyyy."

"Oh, for God's sake," Poppy uttered under her breath.

"Your next vic-tim is here..." Tammy announced. She added that she was still doing rounds, and so Poppy'd be handling this one herself. But Poppy didn't hear this part, as her conscience piped up.

"Ooooh! Front-row seat, front-row seat!" the enthusiastic Anastasia squealed, hopping onto the corner of the desk.

"Shut up!" Poppy hissed, staring at the floor.

"Oh, you shut up," said Anastasia, sticking out her tongue. She crossed her legs excitedly and swung her feet back and forth. Poppy hadn't time for this nonsense. She looked up, cleared her throat and green-lit her partner.

"That-that'll be fine, Tammy; send her in."

Tammy withdrew, as Poppy took her seat and checked the next appointment. She could do this; it was just a matter of willpower. A moment later, in sauntered a woman named Gwen Culbert. She assumed the chair across from Poppy and crossed her own legs. She didn't seem nearly as nervous or anxious as Suzy.

Poppy was rattled, but launched into the standard routine, complete with the shuffling of papers and the cold stare. "Good afternoon, Miss Culbert, I'm Poppy Sorenson. Thank you for coming down."

Gwen shrugged. "No prob'm."

"A'right, well, let's just get started," said Poppy. "Now, Miss Culbert, as you know, here at SuCo Industries, production is our number-one concern."

As Poppy opened her little spiel, Anastasia decided now was the time for the fun to begin. She waited for Poppy to resume.

"Now, unfort—"

Anastasia snapped her fingers. Poppy promptly hiccupped. Loudly.

"HIC—!"

"Hee-hee-hee!" her conscience giggled. "Gotcha!"

Poppy reflexively whirled on Anastasia, forgetting that Gwen couldn't see or hear her.

"What do you think you're d—" Snap! "HIC—!"

Anastasia chortled in jovial humor. This was fun. She extended her arm and snapped her fingers multiple times in succession.

"HIC-HIC-HIC-HIC-HIC—!!"

Finally, she gave her a break. Poppy caught a breath and cleared her throat. "Um, 'scuse me," she apologized to the now somewhat bemused Gwen. "Little tickle there. Constrictive throat muscles. 'S a family problem."

"T'sk-t'sk-t'sk-t'sk-t'sk," Anastasia reprimanded. "Family lives clear across the country, and you don't even have the courtesy to call or write 'em. Ungrateful, that's what."

Poppy squeezed her eyes tight in irritation. "Will you freaking be quiet, I said!"

"But, I didn't even say anything yet!" Gwen objected.

"Par-er, pardon me, Miss Culbert," said Poppy. "Now, unfortunately, it has come to our attention tha—"

Anastasia reached over and poked Poppy's forearm. Her voice abruptly shot up three octaves. The startled Gwen arched her eyebrows and reared back in her chair.

Poppy gave herself a light whap in the sternum, trying not to let Anastasia get to her. She cleared her throat once more. "My goodness, I do apologize," she told Gwen. "Anyway, Miss Culbert, the bottom line is, w—"

Anastasia loudly clapped her hands twice. "Clap off!"

At the instant her conscience said the word "off," Poppy's voice and speech went dead silent. She continued moving her lips, but no sound came out. When Poppy realized she was suddenly mute, one paw flew reflexively to her larynx, the other over her mouth. She turned on Anastasia, incredulously mouthing some very unpleasant words.

The already befuddled Gwen was getting seriously weirded out. "A—...are you all right?" she asked Poppy.

Quite literally at a loss for words, Poppy was compelled to think on her toes. She pointed to her throat, as if to indicate to Gwen that she had laryngitis. This made Anastasia burst into hysterical laughter.

"W—...what?" Gwen asked. "I...I don't understand."

Anastasia was in stitches. She gave the desk a couple bangs with her fist, and Poppy a playful punch in the arm.

"Nice save, killer! We've having fun now, huh??" She clapped again. "Okay, clap on!"

Poppy's voice came back.

"—can't talk. I have laryngitis," she explained, perfectly audibly. "That's wh—"

She realized her powers of speech had been restored. She proceeded to fire a glare at her conscience, with a desire to kill her multiple times, via the most excruciating methods feasible. Anastasia innocently blew on her nails.

Gwen was extremely perplexed. "Sh-should I go?" she asked, starting to get up.

"Oh, no no no, Miss Culbert, sit," Poppy insisted. She shuffled her papers. "Just, a, um...just a little, eh...a little office difficulty here..." She took a deep breath. "Okay. Here's the deal. You see, the bottom line is..."

Anastasia seized this moment to clasp Poppy's hand, link their fingers, and speak for her. Poppy went on with no pause in her explanation, but her conscience made her say some very unintended things. Her expression and tone changed dramatically. She essentially became Anastasia's puppet.

"...Even though I may think I do," Poppy told the visitor she was supposed to have fired by now, "I have no right to judge you, or anyone else. Just look at some of the things I've done in my life! I break hearts every day, for the sheer fun of it! That's the sort of person I am; I take pleasure in tormenting people! I cheated on my girlfriend because our relationship got boring! I hocked my Mom's jewelry 'cause I needed the money!"

Right before the words "...I needed the money," Anastasia stopped puppeteering Poppy and released her. Out from under her conscience's spell, Poppy registered what she'd just said, shrieked, and slapped her hands over her mouth. The confession prompted a bout of silence. For a few moments, no one said anything. Gwen looked uncomfortable.

"Well, I, uh...that's...that's pretty, eh...unfortunate to hear...I guess," Gwen commented, not very sure what to say.

Poppy sighed, straining for words.

"Yes, well, regardless, Miss Culbert, as much more difficult as it makes this to say..."

This time Anastasia did not interfere, but Poppy hesitated on her own. Another short spell of awkward silence ensued. Her conscience shot her that oh-so innocent smile.

"Something wrong, Poppy?..."

"I...uhhh, I-I-I..." Poppy stammered.

Gwen furrowed one eyebrow and raised the other. "...What are you trying to say?"

"Yeah!" prodded Anastasia, giving Poppy another impish smack in the arm. "What's the matter, killer?! C'mon! Gonna wimp out on me now? Huh?? Too much of a goody-two-shoes? Boot the babe! Can the chick! Ditch the doll! Come on already! Woman up! Grow a pair and kick her sorry butt outta here!!"

"Gwen, you're fired!" Poppy finally exclaimed, springing up from her chair. She sharply exhaled in relief, and whirled on her conscience. "HA!"

Anastasia arched her brows, a bit surprised Poppy could go through with it, even after all that taunting. Miss Gwen Culbert, meanwhile, was foreseeably dumbfounded.

"What?!"

Poppy whipped back to Gwen, now less than in control.

"You heard me; you're outta here!" She whacked the desk with her palm on each forthcoming outburst. "Goners! Bounced! Heaved! Dumped! Ousted! Axed! Now beat it! Pack up and hit the bricks!"

Even for the Corporate Killer of SuCo Industries, this was a wildly erratic dismissal. But Poppy didn't care. She was blazing the warpath, only starting to calm down. She threw out another breath and turned back to Anastasia. "Take that, you guilt-tripping harpy!"

An even colder, uglier silence followed. Then, Gwen suddenly jumped up from her chair.

"Well, fine!" she shouted at Poppy. "I don't need this job! I have plenty of better offers waiting for me, from people a lot nicer to associate with than you, thanks very much!"

She marched out, slamming the door with such ferocity it didn't creak at all. Poppy relinquished what energy she had left, collapsed in her chair, and dropped her head on the desk with a thod! Her conscience reached underneath and gently swept Poppy's hair out of her eyes. Finally, Poppy slowly looked back up, and glowered at her.

"You're very good at this, aren't you?"

Anastasia twirled. "The best."

Poppy's tone was flat and inflectionless. "Yeah, well, you must be, 'cause all of a sudden I feel like a scum bag."

"Aw..." Anastasia gingerly rubbed her back. Her face softened to a hybrid of both mock and genuine sympathy. She was, after all, just doing her job, and of course loved Poppy—even if the feeling couldn't be less mutual.

Creeeeak. "Next!" Tammy called in.

Anastasia clapped. "Ooh, goody! Let's see how much fun we can have with this one!"

Poppy moaned.

"Something tells me this is gonna be a looooong afternoon."

*****

(P) Heh! Anastasia terrorized me the whole rest of the day. Not that I didn't deserve it, of course. She didn't miss one single opportunity to sabotage my employee-sacking, or dredge up something I did years ago to make me feel horrible about: losing touch with friends, ducking family obligations, general acts of dishonesty and unkindness...even cheating on my income tax, for heck's sake. It was unbearable. She had me feeling so slimy and terrible by the end of the day, I couldn't fire my last victim. I simply could not bring myself to do it. Every time I tried, I got a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye. Finally, I just had to send her back to work. After I left, I thought I'd managed to shake Annie off. I went home and tried to dismiss the day as some kind of aberration. I'm now in bed, in my jammies, to bring you to the next flashback, which happened later that evening.

Well, to be precise, this next segment occurred just after midnight. I was talking to Tammy on the phone, trying to explain my behavior. It should be noted, I did not have the next day off. SuCo does not honor our Armed Forces veterans by giving its workers a free day. I merely tended, by nature, to undersleep. And so I opted instead to pleasure myself. Or try.

Now, after midnight, I thought, for a second, everything was back to normal. I was, of course, wrong.

I'm going to take you into my bedroom now.

But...just to illustrate the next scene for you.

*****

Jillus Interruptus

Tuesday, November 11th, 2008, 12:09 a.m.

Poppy pawed at both eyes with her free hand as she finished the conversation.

"...Right, Tam...yeah, I...I know...yeah, well, I, eh...things got a little weird there for a while...uh-huh...yeah, well, I'm pretty sure this'll all be straightened out by tomorrow—at least I hope so...right...'kay. Yeah...good night, Tam...sweet dreams. Buh-bye."

Poppy dropped the phone and her body side by side. She closed her eyes nice and tight to soothe them. She then proceeded to stare up into the ceiling for a few moments...and shook her head.

"Oh!" she waved a weak paw, slapping the bed. "It was a dream. That's it. Had to be. Just had to. A disturbing...vivid...perverse...disenchanting...horrific..."