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Rolento’s Wacky Adventures in the Business World A stupid fanfic by Pete Quintela

Fresh out of college with a shiny new master’s degree in economics, Rolento was ready to take on the world. Coming from a privileged family, paying for college wasn’t really a big issue, but Rolento felt the need to serve in the military as well. Now, at age 30, his grizzled appearance betrayed the fact that he really had no real world working experience to this point. That was going to change soon, if Rolento had his way at least. Rolento had a tendency to be very aggressive during job interviews, to the point where he scared a potential employer out of the interview room. He was never really a people person, and had spent most of his time as a child alone. In fact, the military constituted most of the social interactions Rolento had experienced, so you can’t really blame him for believing that you’re supposed to shout at your serperiors. He honestly had no clue why he was being turned down by so many businesses. “They’re not worthy of my services anyway!” he would always tell himself. After searching through a heavily marked up classifieds section of a

newspaper for the fifteenth time this week, Rolento spotted an ad he’d swore hadn’t been there last time. “HELP DESPERATELY WANTED” the ad announced, “POSITION OPEN FOR AN ACCOUNTANT. NO INTERVIEW REQUIRED.” The last part in particular piqued Rolento’s interests. With the interview out of the way, he was almost guaranteed the job. He almost instantly dialed the number on the ad and set up a day to visit. A couple days later, Rolento drove up to the address given to him over the phone. There was a moderately sized off-white building there, with a large neon sign reading “MASTERS’ MODERATELY USED NAPKINS”. “What exactly am I getting myself into?” Rolento thought as he approached the building. Upon reaching the door, it swung open, nearly hitting Rolento in the face. Instinctually, Rolento picked up the nearest stick and started swinging it at the person at the door. “Ow! Hey!” the figure covered its head with its arms, trying to stop the onslaught of stick. “Cut it out, man!” The figure belonged to a young man about the age of 25. He appeared to be rather muscular, as if he had gotten into quite a few scuffles in his life. After Rolento paused his stick whipping, he recognised the man’s face. “Hey, you’re Ken Masters, aren’t you?” The man dusted himself off and straightened out his long blonde hair. “Urgh, heh, so you’re a fan, I presume? I’ll be willing to forget the assault charges for a fan.” “Of course, Mr. Masters! You were incredible during the U.S. Martial Arts tournament!” Rolento was displaying an unusual amount of enthusiasm. This obviously wasn’t faked in an attempt to avoid a felony conviction. “But, of course, I’m here for work, so autographs must wait.” “Oh! You must be the guy I talked to on the phone. Mister... uh..” Ken looked down at something he had scrawled on his hand. “Mister... Sh.. Shu.. Shoe gurgle...?” “Rolento Schugerg, at your service!” Rolento stood up straight and saluted Ken. Ken raised an eyebrow. “Riiight... Just... Come inside, you’re going to cause a scene.” He beckoned Rolento inside the store. The interior of the store wasn’t much more impressive than the exterior. It consisted of a few shelves of (used) napkins with a cash register near the back. There was also a door leading somewhere yonder to the side of the shop. It honestly appeared to be smaller on the inside. Over the the cash register was a framed painting of a burly man. It was probably the best looking thing in the store, and that’s not saying much. “So... this is it?” Rolento asked Ken, obviously unimpressed with the store. “Pfft, nah,” Ken responded. “See that door?” He pointed to the door to the

side of the shop, “That’s where the magic happens. Come on, I’ll give you a tour.” Ken led Rolento through the door. Upon entering, it seemed as though they had entered a totally different building. The floors were shiny, the walls were pasty white, and there were four nice little desks evenly spread throughout the spacey room. There was every convienience a man could ever need in this room, with a refrigerator and stove in the corner, and a huge TV on the back wall. Rolento stopped for a moment to take in the scenery. He hadn’t seen a place this nice since his parents’ old mansion from his childhood. He also wasn’t quite sure he’d be able to get any work done here. On each desk, there was a fancy laptop. Three of the laptops were open and running. Two of them were in use. One was occupied by a rather large middle-aged man with a red military cap. He looked rather threatening. The other was being used by what appeared to be a very sickly man. He didn’t appear to take up the majority of his clothes, and his face looked similar to a crude disguise made by a child. His skin also appeared to be blue. So there’s that. “Who exactly do you employ here, Mr. Masters?” Rolento asked, intrigued by his potential co-workers. “Oh, you mean those two? Lemme introduce you to them.” Ken led Rolento to the big guy. He looked over from the laptop (which he dwarfed) he was typing on over to Rolento. “Who is this worm?” the man asked Ken somewhat angrily. “Bison, this is the new guy, Rolento.” Ken responded, unphased by the man’s mean tone. “If you try to enslave him, I will have my father fly in from San Francisco to personally kick your ass.” Bison muttered something under his breath. “Yeah, yeah.” Ken pulled Rolento aside. “That’s M. Bison, if you haven’t caught on.” “He seems evil. Am I going to have to whip some good ol’ fashioned American morals into him?” “Hey, slow down there, soldier,” Ken said mockingly, “He works well and he doesn’t mess with my dad, so it doesn’t matter that we’re pretty sure he’s gonna take over the world.” “I’ll keep an eye on him, Mr. Masters!” Rolento saluted Ken again. “Stop doing that! You’re making yourself look like a toss.” Rolento stared at Ken for a good minute or so, letting the fact that his idol had just insulted him. Ken was scared by the cold, dead stare, so he immediately redirected the mood. “Hey, how about we go and meet the other sack of crap who works here?” Rolento immediately snapped out of his zombie-like state. “Yes, of course!” The two of them walked over to the strange looking... man? It was staring directly forward at its laptop, as if it was focusing intently on the Excel document

on the screen. A loud rumble could be heard coming from its face... mask... thing. The thing’s mask kept its usual happy demeanor, which agitated the heck out of Rolento by the look of it. “What exactly is that, Mr. Masters?” Rolento asked while waving his hand in front of the being’s “face”. “That’s Richard Denton, or at least that’s what he calls himself. We found ‘him’ ‘walking’ around aimlessly outside. No clue why Dad hired him.” “You sure he’s human?” “Nope. We’re actually pretty sure it’s some sort of sentient life from another dimension sent here by a freak teleporting accident. We’re also pretty sure he’s a chick. Isn’t that right, Bison?” “Indeed.” “And you keep it around why?” Rolento asked, confused out of his mind “Because I can draw on his mask and he gets all huffy about it, and that makes me giggle.” Rolento stared at Ken again. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d liked this kid before. Ken started to chortle. “Hey, Shoegurgle, check this out.” Ken approached Richard with a devious expression spread across his face. Rolento raised an eyebrow. Ken approached Richard’s ear very slowly, making sure not be heard. When he was inches away from ‘his’ ear, he screamed at the top of his lungs “SHOOOOOORYUKEN!” Richard immediately sprung to life. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUGH!” ‘he’ screamed in a rather feminine voice. Ken burst out in a fit of laughter. “Ahahahahahahah! Asleep at the wheel again, Ms. Denton?” The being, after regaining its composure, turned to Ken and addressed him. “Hey!” ‘he’ spoke in a non-convincing male voice. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Bossm’n, that I wasn’t taking a nap, I was working on important Powerpoint machines! And I’m a man, gosh darn it!” “Riiiiight” Rolento, Bison and Ken spoke in unison, and with a sound of defeated hopes, Richard returned to work. “So,” Ken said awkwardly, “You want the job?” “Do you really need a response for that?” Rolento replied excitedly. “Great,” Ken responded with muted enthusiasm. “Go sit at the empty desk. Your computer logon is ‘stickman’, password ‘madgear’. First order of business, um...” Ken tapped his face, lost in thought. “Find a way to make more money. Invest in something.” “Right, sir!” Rolento gave a quick salute and trotted off to his desk. Ken exited the room and went into the sales room from earlier. After logging in, he went to the website of the S&P 500. Looking over the covered companies, he noticed a downwards trend forming. Remembering his lesson on leading

indicators, he realized that this could be a sign of an economic downturn. He decided not to invest any money in any company at this time. “Bison?” he asked the large man. “What is it, worm?” Bison responded gruffly. “Mr. Masters isn’t going to be pissed if I don’t do what he told me, right?” “Ken doesn’t know a thing about running a business. I’m certain if you explain yourself using big words, you’ll confuse him enough to make him agree with you. How else would that useless pile of coat still be employed?” Bison motioned to Richard and chuckled. “Okay, if you say so,” Rolento said with a twinge of nervousness in his voice. When Ken came in to check in on Rolento’s progress, he wasn’t too pleased with what Rolento had told him. “Come on, man! You had one job! One. JOB.” “Mr. Masters, you have to understand that the stock market shows that a downwards spiral is imminent. If I invest in anything right now, we run the risk of losing our money.” “Nonsense,” Ken scoffed, “I read somewhere that the country’s earnings this year were higher than they ever were. Pile on top of that the most successful year this company has ever had, and you’ve got yourself a big ol’ pile of BS you’re spewing.” “Mr. Masters, those aren’t good things to base predictions off of. The earnings of a country is called its GDP, and it’s impossible to tell anything of the future based on it. The same goes for the profits of a business.” Rolento seemed to be rambling a bit at this point, and Ken had lost interest. “Yeah, okay. Just do what you think is right. You ARE the financial manager now.” “I won’t disappoint you, sir!” Rolento turned to return to his desk. “Oh, and by the way, how are sales?” “Sales? Kinda bad. Nobody seems to be interested in buying used napkins anymore.” Ken didn’t seem even remotely disappointed by this fact. “See if we can expand into other areas.” “Yes, sir.” The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Richard fell asleep again, and the mask seemed to stare into Rolento’s soul, so he didn’t really get anything productive done. He just tried to ignore the unnerving mask, and looked up stupid pictures of cats. Eventually, he got fed up and went over to Richard’s desk. He grasped the mask and yanked it off. What he saw shocked him, and he immediately replaced the mask. Best to leave some things hidden, he thought. He could hear Bison chuckle in the distance. Long story short, Rolento went home after that. He slept soundly that

night, with the only unnerving thing in his dream being the image of Richard’s face. He awoke the next day to his television blaring the news. “... Here’s our economic analyst, Cammy White.” “Thanks, Cody. Yesterday, we saw a tremendous drop in the price of many stocks. Continuing on this trend of contraction, we have word from Shadaloo, one of the major manufacturers of prescription drugs, has closed one of its factories indefinitely and has reduced production across the board due to decreased demand. Could this be a sign of things to come? Possibly.” “Huh,” Rolento said to himself. “It’s a good thing Ken didn’t make me invest in Shadaloo yesterday. How did this stupid TV turn itself on, anyways?” The rest of his day was pretty mundane. Richard actually was awake today, so Rolento tried his hand at conversing with it. “So...” Rolento asked awkwardly, “What do you do around here?” “I’m the retail manager,” it replied. “How are... sales?” Rolento had no idea how to make small talk. “They’re pretty bad, to be honest. I have no idea why we sell what we sell. Apparently, the old man thinks that everyone thinks like him and wants to buy crusty old snot wipes.” “Old man?” “Ken’s father, the business owner.” “Ah. So what exactly are you?” Richard seemed to tense up “I told you already, I’m the retail manager.” Rolento was sure if he could see its face, it would be gritting its teeth right now. “No, I mean, what are you really?” Rolento started getting up into its face area. “Hey! Get back to work!” Ken shouted from across the room. “Keep it up, and you’ll be part of the unemployment statistic!” Rolento recalled that the unemployment rate had skyrocketed recently. This wasn’t really a sign of things to come, but he didn’t want to become part of it nonetheless. He decided to get back to work. Once back at his desk, he decided it might be a good idea to check up on the housing market. A good slump in the housing market could really do a number to the rest of the economy. Yep; as expected, the housing market was taking a trip down the crapper. The dollar was also taking a tumble, but a weak dollar could be a good thing when it comes to tourism, so he didn’t take that into account. He typed up an email to Ken warning him to not to go absolutely crazy when it came to spending. As expected, the stock market took a turn for the worst, and the country entered a recession. Masters’ Moderately Used Napkins saw a loss in sales, but was relatively unaffected due to Rolento’s decision not to invest in anything. Richard eventually stopped showing up to work. It was assumed “he” went back

to wherever it came from. Ken was going to fire “him� anyways, so no harm done. Eventually, the company struck a profit when people were so poor and desperate for napkins that they had to buy used. Rolento became rich, and he was able to buy an island with his profits. With this island, he finally started the militaryfocused country he had always dreamed of.


An economics project. Whee-hee.