1

Kevin Iler was not having a good day, and he was determined to let anyone who got into his way know all about it. It was the middle of the night and he walked briskly into his office at GemCo Oil. He should have been fast asleep, dreaming his dreams of money and nothing but money, while trying hard to ignore the annoying snoring of his equally annoying wife. In Kevin Iler’s world most everyone was annoying because everyone around him could not understand that all that mattered was money. The important thing about money was how much of it he could earn for the company and, therefore, for himself.

Fifteen minutes ago he learned that one of his most ambitious projects was no longer making money. Oil Rig number 42 (known by those at GemCo as simply Rig 42) was no longer in contact with anyone. There had been a number of rather distressing calls made by the rig but, just as suddenly, everything had ceased. Satellite views showed no movement of any kind on the rig. A helicopter fly-by revealed nothing. It was as if the crew had simply disappeared. All that was left were some very disturbing and confusing recordings of transmissions from the rig.

Rig 42 was the biggest one that GemCo had ever built and it was located in the Gulf of Mexico. It was the biggest in the world and one of the most advanced ever created. It was Kevin’s baby and he had spent countless hours pouring over its design and more hours convincing those in charge that it was an expense that would only bring about good things. Once the oil field had been discovered it was Kevin who put forth the idea of the most advanced and largest rigs seen within the oil industry. The idea was that the more advanced equipment would mean a smaller crew could be used and fewer accidents could occur. Now he had an absent crew, creepy radio transmissions and a rig that was not done drilling to get to the pumping that would bring him more money.

Kevin Iler intended to yell at a lot of people. For the most part yelling was the only thing Kevin Iler was really good at. He had a knack for it. The other thing Kevin Iler had a gift for was dreaming and obsessing over money. The fact that he had an impressive string of failures behind him with other companies in this endeavor did not seem to stop him from getting jobs at new places. He had enough impressive successes that companies held out hope that he would be able to duplicate his successes with them. GemCo was one of those places.

Kevin walked into his office and threw his briefcase into a chair just inside the door. He muttered to himself and cursed the fact that his assistant had not yet arrived even though he had called her shortly after he had been contacted. He grabbed his Rolodex and flipped through it angrily. He found the phone number he was looking for. He punched the number into the phone and sat down behind the desk. He rubbed his eyes and built up a good head of steam.

“Hello?” Said a groggy voice on the other end.

“Phil?” Kevin yelled.

“Yeah,” the man said, “who’s this?”
“Fuck you, you fat fuck!” Kevin screamed. “Get your fucking flabby ass out of bed and get into the office in ten minutes or your office will be waiting for you in boxes by the curb before the sun comes up!”

“Sorry, Mr. Iler,” Phil Stim said on the other end, suddenly not nearly as sleepy as he had been.

“Save your fucking sorry for someone who fucking believes in them,” Iler screamed, his throat muscles stretching impressively. “Roll over that ugly cunt of a wife you have and get your sorry ass into work now, for Christ’s sake. We’ve lost 42.”

“Oh shit,” Stim moaned.

“Why are you still talking to me?” Kevin screamed. “I said to get the fuck up and get the fuck in here!”

He slammed his finger on the button before Phil had even a prayer of responding. He flipped through his rolodex again and found another number. He repeated this exercise six times before his assistant came in. She looked a bit of a wreck. Her hair was pulled back but whatever she had used to try and hold it there hadn’t worked very well and it was sticking up all over the place.

“Christ you are a fucking walking disaster,” Kevin screamed at her. “I’ve already made the phone calls because you are so fucking slow and dimwitted it has to be seen to be believed! Don’t even bother sitting your sorry ass down just go get me a cup of coffee. Be glad I don’t throw it in your face when you get here.”
The young woman nodded, dropped her things and immediately shuffled down the hallway. Kevin watched her go with a satisfied smile on his face. He had been told repeatedly that his method of screaming at people served no purpose except to make everyone resentful of him. His response has been that he had no interest in being anyone’s friend and when he screamed people jumped. When people jumped they did things for him. When people did things for him he not only insulated himself from things but they made him look better. This in turn made him more money, which directly related to his theory that the only thing in life that mattered was money. Kevin often had dreams where he entered a magical world where money rained down upon him. No hard coin money, but beautiful, soft, green money just falling all around him. Whether or not the people who made him richer were happy could not have mattered to him less. At a large company meeting he had famously stated that he felt people should not be happy in their jobs because if they were happy or content then they weren’t trying hard enough.

Kevin turned back to his phone numbers. He smiled. There was one more phone call to make but it was the only one that he was looking forward to making. Of all of the people in this company there was only one person who came close to sharing Kevin’s view of the world. There was only one person as equally willing to sacrifice his soul on the altar of profit. He dialed that number and was not surprised when Larry Appling answered the phone from in his car.

“Yes, sir,” Larry said, “I got the call five minutes ago. I should be in the office in just about the same amount of time.”
“Good man, Larry,” Kevin said. “I’ve got the rest of the crew fumbling around in their bedrooms to get dressed already.”
“I figured you would, sir,” Larry said.

“I’m going to make you my point-man on this thing, Larry,” Kevin said. “I need someone I can trust on this one.”

“You can trust me, sir,” Larry said. “Thank you.”
“Get your ass in here, fast,” Kevin said and hit the button.

He sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. He loved being able to yell at people and he knew that by the time most of the people he had just called came in they would have more information for him. If they had more information for him maybe he could make a decision that would save this entire disaster.