A Dose of His Own Medicine

"But given her circumstances surely you could reconsider? Both Margaret and Angie are valuable employees, Mr. Wilson. Very valuable indeed."

"I don't share your opinion, Mary. And I have already discussed this matter with my father and he has given me his approval to proceed with the firing of one of these two women."

Something told her that whatever information he had imparted to his father about the need to dispose of one of her friends had to have been a lie. She wanted to tell him off, but held her tongue.

"I understand, sir," she replied, looking beyond him to focus on the bleak cityscape outside his window.

She was barely able to utter the word 'sir,' the word catching in her throat and serving as a painful reminder of just how much she despised this man.

"Good. I'm glad you do," he said, at last deigning to bestow her with a sinister glance. "I'll leave it to you to decide which of them is to be sacked. Whomever you choose, she is to be notified of her termination on Monday morning."

He said this in such a coldhearted way that Mary might have received her instructions from an automaton for all the warmth he exuded.

"It's not my place to terminate anyone," she said. "I'm only your secretary. You're their boss."

For a moment Jim remained silent, thoughtfully studying her expression more than her words. "You are my secretary and you are also the office manager. Therefore you are quite qualified to handle this situation. If you have a problem with it..."

"No, no, I don't," she said quickly. "It's just that they are both my friends. How can I choose one over the other?"

"Immaterial. Simply choose one and be done with it. I don't care to know the particulars. That is all."

Mary stood up and turned to go, but just as she was about to walk out the door, he called her back.

"What is it, sir?" she said, turning slowly to face him. He could sense that there was agitation in her voice.

"This bothers you, doesn't it? Having to terminate one of your friends."

He said this in such an unsympathetic and offhand way that it chilled Mary's heart to hear it.

"Of course it does. Anybody with a heart would understand."

"And you don't think I have one, do you?"

"I think you have one, sir. You just never learned how to use it."

Jim contemplated what she said for a few moments and then laughed. "So, I'm a heartless demagogue, am I? The cruel taskmaster who cares nothing for his employees, only himself. Is that right, Mary?"

"Why do you ask me when you already know the answer?"

"Really?" he replied with a measure of sarcasm. He purposely rose from his seat and walked toward her, stopping only when he was a few feet from her irresolute form. "And I take it that you wish that I were out of the way, do you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Oh, come now! Of course you do! I'm not blind you know. I know that you hate me. Most everyone in this company does. And do you know why? Because I'm more competent than anyone else! I get the job done. And not only do I get it done, I get it done in such a way that people can't help but marvel at my ingenuity, my brilliance, my entrepreneurial skill! The consummate businessman. That's who I am. And do I allow my personal issues to impact upon my job? Of course not! How could I? Wilson Laboratories is where it is today because of my total devotion to making this company great."

If Mary had wanted to slap his face earlier, she wanted to punch it now. "Your father was responsible for the success of Wilson Labs...sir," adding the last word in a contemptuous tone for effect. "You inherited a company that was already on the Fortune 500 list."

"Yes, that's true. But due to my hard work I have made this company even greater than what my own father envisioned. Dedication, Mary. Selfless dedication." He turned his body sideways to look out the window. "Do you see that? All those buildings belong to us. We practically own this entire neighborhood. I did all that. That's my legacy. So when I see lesser people falling by the wayside I can't feel sympathy for them. I can only feel repugnance. I can only feel that they were weak enough to allow their personal circumstances to interfere with the greatness that is Wilson. And that's why such people must go. Do you understand?"

Mary shook her head numbly but said nothing. She had finally managed to conjure up an honest, but nevertheless frightful, dose of his egocentricity, and it made her shiver. But deep inside her was stirring the spirit of revenge—revenge for all the sleights, harassments, crudeness and arrogance that she had endured for an entire year at the hands of this miscreant. Tomorrow. Tomorrow! And the terrible retribution would begin!

"Bring me another cup of coffee, would you?" he told her as he walked back to his desk seemingly unperturbed.

"Yes, sir," she replied, imagining him chained to a medical table surrounded by the non-entities whom he disparaged, his testicles full of the fertility drug that would humble him, disgrace him, humiliate him before the very women he despised.

************

Mary had a fitful night's sleep. In her dream she imagined that she was Jacob Marley come to visit his erstwhile partner, Ebenezer Scrooge. But in this scenario, Scrooge was already beyond redemption, and Marley had come to take him away posthaste to his ultimate demise. But it wasn't the fiery realm of Hell itself that beckoned the intransigent and greedy man of business; it was the inside of a vast medical lab whose dimensions extended for miles around in each direction into infinity. And within that unlimited expanse an enormous crowd of eager and demanding women—nurses, secretaries, doctors, accountants, and even the lowly office grunts—found common cause in the long-awaited destruction of the detestable villain. Oh! What terrors awaited that poor, unfortunate creature! "The drug! The drug!" the women cried. "Give him the drug!" When their incessant shouts grew too loud to bear, she woke up; she had slept through her alarm.

After she had showered and had breakfast, she called Bethany to make certain that everything was in order. The friendly doctor assured her that it was. Mary heaved a sigh of relief. The digital recording she had made three days before was safely ensconced in her bank's safe deposit box. The other two backup copies remained in her friend's hands in case they were needed. There was nothing left to do except to go to work.

Bethany had informed Mary that a dozen or so of the young female medical students who were currently serving as interns had expressed interest in participating in Jim Wilson's examination. Some of these girls, whose ages ranged from eighteen to twenty-one, had already been the recipients of Jim's displeasure and were desirous of witnessing the effects of Infiritol upon him first hand. Mary wholeheartedly agreed.

Upon arriving at the lab a half an hour early, she had the unfortunate experience of watching her boss berate one of the newly hired girls—an eighteen-year-old fresh out of high school who had been hired as a file clerk. The pretty girl crouched before him as though expecting him to lash out at her with some imaginary weapon. She stood just outside the entrance to his office holding a stack of files in her hands. She seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"But you must be an idiot!" he screamed at her. "Who hired you? Tell me right now so that I can fire herandyou!"

"I'm not sure who it was, Mr. Wilson," the poor girl replied, her voice full of distress. "I'm sorry I spilled coffee all over your files. It was an accident. Please don't fire me!"

With that the terrified creature broke down in earnest. Mary rushed to her aid, taking the stack of files from the teary-eyed girl's hands and putting them down on her own desk.

"What's going on here?" she said to Jim.

"This...this fool spilled coffee all over the Yamaguchi account!" he replied angrily, not taking his eyes off the girl.

"You can print out another copy, certainly."

"These were the original signed copies! Now I have to send them back to Mr. Yamaguchi to be signed all over again! Stupid girl!"

The girl, whose name was Alicia, was openly crying now, muttering something about her not feeling quite well.

"I don't give a damn how you feel!" Jim roared. "Get the hell out of my office!"

Alicia was about to proffer a timid attempt at supplication but thought the better of it and rushed down the hall, her pretty face covered in tears.

"That was completely uncalled for," Mary said to her boss. "You had no right to speak to her in that tone of voice."

"Watch it, Mary," he warned her. "I'm not in a very forgiving mood."

"I'm going to tell your father what's going on here!"

"Go right ahead. But just remember this. Your job is no more secure than hers." He glanced in the direction of the fleeing girl. "Now leave me alone and get to work!"

The two stared at each other momentarily, eyes flaring, and then he turned his back on her and slammed the door in her face.

"Fucking bastard!" she swore under her breath. "I'll get to work all right. I'll get to work on you!"

Mary thought it a pity that no one else was around to have witnessed the altercation. There was a part of her that greatly desired to see the hostility shown to her boss by her fellow employees increase, making his upcoming trials even more palatable to her. If she had felt any lingering reluctance to proceed with her plan, this latest fiasco erased the last vestiges of it once and for all. His bullying treatment of the girl, who could not have possibly been any real threat to him or his precious account, and his saddling her with the task of firing one of her friends—something which he should have done on an official level—left her with the opinion that Jim Wilson was nothing short of a coward. And it was with great relish that she added this last defect of personality to the burgeoning arsenal of other distasteful attributes with which his character was so comprised, reinforcing her desire to make him pay dearly for his crimes.

The first thing she did was to comfort Alicia, who was now hiding in the ladies room rinsing her face with water. The girl started violently when Mary entered, half expecting her maniacal boss to come barging in with more insults to hurl at her. When she saw Mary's face she started to cry anew, thinking she was the harbinger of dreadful news.

"Please don't tell me that he fired me," the girl sobbed. "Please don't."

"No," Mary answered softly. "You're safe...for now."

Alicia went back to wiping her eyes with a paper towel, taking little comfort in Mary's assurances. On the sink in front of her was a tube of eyeliner.

"He had no right to treat me like that," the blonde beauty said. "He called me an idiot!"

"I know. I heard every word. I'm sorry."

There were smudges around her eyes where her eyeliner had started to wear off and Mary took it upon herself to play makeup artist.

"You don't have to," Alicia said as Mary cleaned away the inky mess on her face, replacing it with fresh eyeliner.

"Just be quiet and let me help you. You can't go out there looking as you do."

For several minutes the two women faced each other in silence. When Mary was done adjusting Alicia's makeup she put the tube of eyeliner back in the girl's hand and stood back to admire her handiwork.

"You are a lovely young woman," Mary said, appreciating the girl's natural beauty. "Even with your makeup all smudged up."

"Thank you," Alicia replied, feeling far more comforted now that she had gained control of herself.

"Feeling better now?"

Alicia shook her head and smiled. "May I ask you something, Ms. Douglas?"

"Of course."

"Why does he treat people that way?"

"Because he suffers from a delusion."

"What delusion?"

"That he is somehow better than the lot of us."

"But he's not. He's not better than anybody."

"As I said, he suffers from a delusion."

She stared at Mary for a moment. There seemed to be a hint of pity in her eyes.

"How do you put up with it?" the girl asked.

"I really don't have much of a choice do I? I assume you like to eat?"

Alicia nodded in the affirmative, but looked perplexed. "Yes, why?"

"Well, so do I. And if you are a person who enjoys eating then you must work to buy the food. No work, no food."

"But surely you could find another job somewhere."

"In today's job market? No, my dear. Jobs are scarce and very hard to come by now. At least the jobs that pay any half decent wages. And so I endure because I like to eat. That's what I tell myself every time that son of a bitch uses me and my girls for target practice."

"I think it's horrible. To be ill used like that."

Mary studied the girl's impeccable features. She was indeed beautiful, but she possessed such integrity of character that it made her inner beauty transcendent to the physical, inviting her confidence. Mary felt that she had found a compatriot.

"I know you weren't at the meeting on Tuesday..."

"I wanted to go," Alicia interrupted, "but I wasn't invited."

"An oversight on my part," Mary said in an apologetic tone. "So let me make up for it by inviting you to join my group and I tonight in the genetics lab on sub-floor 3. We are preparing something special for Mr. Wilson."

She said this with a mischievous grin, hinting to Alicia that something retributive was in store for their tyrannical boss.

"No kidding?" Alicia asked, her eyes widening. "What's going on?"

"I can't tell you now. Just be there at 7:00 p.m. sharp and don't breathe a word of what we've discussed."

"I'll be there."

Mary left the girl and returned to her desk. It was almost 9:00 a.m. and she had a ton of work to take care of before her lunch break at 1:00 p.m. Thankfully, Jim was to be in conference the entire morning, so this left her free to communicate her final instructions to her accomplices without any interference from him.

The day wore on in much the usual way. When Jim did return to his office he immediately left for lunch, so Mary knew that he would be out for at least a few hours or more. During this time she went over the details of her plan inch by inch, paying each of her co-conspirators a visit to make certain that there were no lingering doubts about what they needed to do. Satisfied that all the elements of her upcoming abduction and reduction of Mr. Wilson were now in place, she spent the final hour at her desk awaiting her boss's return.

His lunch hour had been extraordinarily long. When he strode into his office it was half past five. At first he seemed preoccupied with some paperwork and had no communication with Mary for at least a good half hour. She began to worry that he might go home early now that the Yamaguchi account would have to wait until Monday. After another hour had passed with no response from him, she got up and walked into his office, hopeful that he was indeed going to remain late.

"Why are you still here?" he asked her as she glided gracefully into the room.

"The same reason you are. I have leftover work to take care of and I don't want it sitting around for me on Monday."

He grunted his approval and lowered his head down towards the top of his desk as his pen flew across several sheets of paper.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"A cup of Earl Grey," he replied gruffly, without lifting his head.

"Coming right up!"

Mary gingerly exited the room and went into the kitchen where she began preparing the tea. When it was ready she took the tiny vial of liquid sedative given to her by Bethany, removed the glass tube, and put three drops of the liquid into his teacup. She then carried the tea into his office and left it sitting on his desk while he worked. He was so preoccupied that he didn't even acknowledge her presence.So far, so good,she thought.

After a few minutes had passed she went into his office under the pretence of asking him a question about one of the company accounts. She noticed that he had drunk some of the tea and was still hard at work.

"Yes?" he asked. "What is it?"

"I have a few letters requiring your signature."

"Leave them on the desk. I'll get to them later."

"Yes sir."

Mary placed the reports on his desk and turned to go. Just as she put her foot out the door she heard him groan loudly.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Wilson?"

He slowly raised himself up from his crouching position and rubbed his face with his hands. "Oh, my. All of a sudden I feel so...woozy!"

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, no. I'll be all right."

He made a feeble attempt to get out of his chair but fell back into it, looking around him as if he had misplaced his legs. Mary advanced toward him cautiously, waiting for the potion to do its work.

"You look awfully pale, Mr. Wilson."

"I think...I think...you should call...a doctor," he said, as his head wobbled back and forth.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do!" she replied, chuckling to herself as she picked up his phone.

Within seconds he was out cold, the upper portion of his body resting comfortably on the top of his desk.

"Okay, Bethany," she said into the phone. "It's time."

It took Mary, three women from accounting, and Jo and Evie—two nurses who were physically up to the task—to put the drugged man onto a stretcher and wheel him into the lift. As the lift's doors opened on sub-floor 3, a crowd of women were waiting, Dr. Devlin first among them.

"Wheel him into room 17A and strap him onto the table," she said to Mary. "He should be coming around in a few minutes. Hurry."

The crowd trailed Mary and her group as they made their way to the designated room. As the unconscious man was moved from the stretcher onto the table, his legs and feet were secured with leather straps, effectively immobilizing him. Bethany leaned over him and checked his pulse.

"He's coming round now," she said.

Within seconds Jim opened his eyes and tried to focus upon the leering faces all around him. He moaned loudly several times, shaking his head back and forth as if trying to free himself of some invisible restraint. Slowly the faces became more distinct, and a look of absolute horror came upon him.

"What...what is this?" he croaked. "Where am I?"

"You are in examination room 17A, Mr. Wilson." Dr. Devlin said calmly.

"Why...why am I here? And what are these straps for?"

"We need to keep you restrained for a little while. Don't worry. No one is going to hurt you."

"Hurt me? What do you mean? Take these...take the straps off me now!" Jim struggled in vain to free his arms from the leather straps but soon realized it was useless. "Get me out of here, doctor!" he screamed. "Now!"

"No," the doctor replied coolly. "They will stay on until we're done with you."

"Done with me? What do you mean, 'done with me'?" He looked at Mary, his eyes displaying the fear of a trapped animal. "Mary! What is she talking about? Why are you doing this? Mary!"

"The doctor is going to take a sperm sample from you, Mr. Wilson. Actually, all the ladies here are going to take a tremendous amount of sperm from you, sir."

"What?" Jim screeched. "What in heaven's name are you talking about? Have you people lost your damn minds? Mary, please! This joke has gone far enough! Now release me this instant!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you asshole!" Angie Robinson said to the frightened man. "You're lucky we're not stringing the likes of you up on a gallows!"

"If it was up to me," Margaret sneered, "I'd bust your damn testicles instead of milking them!"

"What did I do to deserve this?" Jim pleaded to the crowd. "What did I do?"

The women, all fifty or so of them, including the young female medical students, began to laugh and snicker amongst themselves. Threats, insults, words of condemnation, all were hurled with careless abandon into the face of the prostrate man, and with no respect whatsoever for any sense of propriety.