About the author: Voted 'Cambodia's Most Fuckable Orphan' for seven non-consecutive years by the Woody Allen Pre-memorial Guild of Orphan Fuckers, Buster Manwomb is regarded by fans and critics alike as 'the literary equivalent of taking multiple dubious mushrooms at a Nickelback concert'.

Watch them crank their muse on Bluesky and Twitter at BusterManwomb

Disclaimer, in case this work is found by more than the handful of fans that still remember the source material: The following is a work of fiction based on a defunct improv podcast. Despite having the same names as the people that play them, the characters as presented here are inspired by their heavily fictionalized portrayals within the podcast. Any views or opinions herein do not reflect those of their real-life namesakes. This fiction was made with thanks and apologies to Stephanie Sterling, Conrad Zimmerman, and Jonathan Holmes

Chapter 1: Alter-erotic Unionization

[Funky Intro Music]

"Hi, this is Conrad Zimmerman of Fistshark Marketing, here to remind you that until we build a new world from the ashes of this one, our content relies on your support through [websites redacted in accordance to fanfiction dot net's TOS]. For less than the price of a microtransaction in a triple-a video game, you can support similarly heinous acts of late-stage capitalism without enabling the abuse of anyone except Craig.

And thanks for listening."

[Funky Transition Music]

"Well, what did you think they were going to say!" Stephanie Sterling ejaculated into the meeting room phone. "I don't care how many hundreds of views it got you on TikTok, and neither did the judge. You can't just do that in a place where food is prepared and expect people to just forget you!"

At this point, Conrad entered the meeting room, holding a large coffee, and wearing scuffed clothes and a sour look. He sat down, took the lid off his coffee, and emptied his flask into it while he listened to Stephanie.

"No, I'm not going to send you five dollars!" Stephanie retorted. "That's twice as much money as you've made in the last two months!... What happened to the burner phone we gave you?... Why the fuck would you trade it? No, no. Shut up. I don't care how many jawbreakers you thought were in the bag... We've been paying for a stolen phone for how long?! No, don't cry, just... What do you mean this is your one phone call?! Again?!"

After a moment pinching the bridge of their nose and letting out a long sigh, Stephanie covered the phone's mouthpiece and turned to Conrad. "Are we still responsible for Val Kilmer's legal defenses?"

"Not unless you know a lawyer that will still work with him." Conrad answered. "Or that he can afford."

"Oh, thank fuck." Stephanie said with relief, immediately hanging up the phone with Val Kilmer's tinny voice still blubbering in the earpiece.

"What did he do this time?" Conrad asked, shaking the last drops from his flask into his coffee.

"He tried to apply at McDonalds again." Stephanie said.

"Really?" Conrad asked after a long sip of his coffee-flavoured whiskey. "They let him into the building?"

"He didn't even make it off the bus." Stephanie answered. "The police were waiting for him at the stop."

"Well, maybe jail will be good for him." Conrad suggested. "The inmates' production of Glengarry Glen Ross was the best thing he was in in years."

"Maybe he'll get cast as something other than a barstool this time." Stephanie said, looking over Conrad and finally realizing he looked like walked through a mosh pit in his work clothes. "What happened to you?"

"Funny you should ask!" Conrad started. "I was caught in traffic this morning. I finally get to my desk, and I have to wait a whole fifteen seconds for Craig the intern to run in and hand me two absolutely ruined lattes!"

"Were they not as scalding as you like them?" Stephanie asked.

"Craig barely screamed when I threw the first one at him." Conrad said. "I had to make him go microwave the one I usually actually drink, then pour it on himself. Unfortunately, that leaves me without a coffee."

"Keeping your priorities in order." Stephanie affirmed, nodding.

"I try to get Craig to go back downstairs and get me another coffee, but he's rolling on the ground complaining about 'blindness' and 'second degree burns' and how he 'needs medical attention'."

"Entitled prick." Stephanie added.

"I'm really jonesing at this point, so I bite the bullet and go down to the street myself. Lo and behold, there's a protest gathered in front of our building!"

Stephanie took the executive elevator from the parkade straight to their floor, and so was usually blissfully unaware of the goings on at the ground level. Pushing their chair to the window, they looked down and indeed saw a group of about three hundred people picketing in front of the lobby doors. "Well would you look at that. What are they protesting?"

"It turns out another one of our workforces are trying to unionize!" Conrad declared.

Stephanie's lukewarm curiosity suddenly turned to middling concern. "Fuck. Did you call our union busters?"

"Absolutely! I finally got to use Fistshark Security's new app for reporting union activity."

"Okay, good. Good." Stephanie asked, wondering why the crowd below looked oddly unbrutalized. "How long ago did you report it? They're usually pretty quick to respond."

"Usually, yes." Conrad said. "As soon as the report was processed, every single person in the protest's phone started ringing."

Stephanie slowly turned from the window towards Conrad, their middling concern giving way to genuine dread. "No..."

"You guessed it." Conrad remarked.

"Don't you tell me this Conrad." Stephanie warned. "Don't you make dealing with Val Kilmer the easiest part of my morning."

"I hate being the bearer of bad news, Steph." Conrad declared solemnly. "But our union busters are unionizing."

"Those goddamn traitors!" Stephanie ejaculated, throwing a pile of paperwork into the air, and then buzzing Craig's electrified collar so he'd know there was a mess to clean. "How could they do this to us!"

"It appears they have some grievances." Conrad said, pulling out a piece of pink folded paper. "They've been handing flyers out to passerby"

"What could they possibly take exception to?" Stephanie said angrily. "We pay them nearly a dollar above the national average and only work them twice as hard for it!"

"Well, first and foremost..." Conrad flattened out the paper on the table before him. "They apparently want medical coverage. Sometimes the groups we send them after fight back, and concussions and hospitalizations occur."

"Occupational hazards." Stephanie dismissed.

"They also want mental health care. They blame their jobs for trauma and depression among their ranks. Particularly when dealing with children."

"We told them to exercise personal discretion when dealing with children." Stephanie explained. " If they regret whatever they did at our mill in Iowa, that's on them."

"That's another thing." Conrad continued. "They want to be subsidized for the costs of travel and lodging when they're sent to work outside of Boston."

"That is a job that requires a lot of passion." Stephanie defended. "If their hearts aren't in it, perhaps they should find other lines of work."

"And lastly..." Conrad continued. "It looks like they want pay raises to reflect the increased cost of living in Boston."

"Oh bull shit!" Stephanie exclaimed. "I know for a fact that most of those hooligans were homeless when we hired them. We had Elizabeth Hurly and Stephen Amell following Val Kilmer for days finding enough tent cities to scout them. How expensive can it possibly be to live out of a tent?"

"Maybe we can offer some sponsored sessions with financial consultants." Conrad wondered. "That could count as mental healthcare."

"All we need is a printer!" Stephanie declared. "Want to save money? Stop wasting your pay of frivolities like avocados, liberal arts degrees, and housing above your pay grade."

"Still, I think we need to do something about them." Conrad said. "It'll take awhile to hire new talent or bring union busters in from outside the city."

"Even then, very few people would want to fight Bostonian union busters. That's why we move them around so much..." Stephanie contemplated. "What if we shipped in some yankees fans from New York and tell them the protesters are red sox fans?"

"...No." Conrad said after seconds of consideration. "I'd rather not risk having New Yorkers near an attempted union. Even if they are yankees fans."

"Shit..." Stephanie said. "Damn it, it just isn't fair, Conrad! They aren't supposed to unionize. How are we supposed to rough them up? A union buster with a union is just a cop!"

The word 'cop' hung heavy in the air for several seconds as the two stared at each other, baffled how they missed the obvious option for so long.

"How violent would you say they were, Conrad?" Stephanie asked.

"Off the record, they were actually very polite." Conrad answered. "On the record, they were out of control. I think I saw a gun."

"Perfect, I'll get Doris to call- WAIT!" Stephanie beamed. "I have a better idea. What if we just picked out half of them, and then offered to just pay them an extra dollar per hour to bust the rest of them?"

"Oh, that's brilliant!" Conrad said. "If we're paying that half an extra two dollars an hour, we can work them four times as hard!"

"If it worked the first time we raised their pay by a dollar, it should work even better now!" Stephanie said. "Wait, if the protesters weren't violent, how did your suit get scuffed up?"

"Oh, that happened on the way back up." Conrad explained. "Miley Cyrus was got in the elevator after me, and thought I was the Slenderman."