Synopsis: Nancy's boss doesn't know what Christmas is, and he sure isn't amused by her asking for time off.
December 20th rolled around and
Nancy noticed she hadn’t heard anything about a Christmas vacation. Big Boss Camberland
Prot was walking past her cubicle when she noticed this, so she stopped him.
“Mr. Prot,” said Nancy. “It’s
five days until Christmas. I assume we get time off for the holiday, and New
Years. But I haven’t heard anything.”
Camberland Prot leaned against
the wall and folded his arms. “It’s a little late to request time off. New
Years is in less than two weeks. And when’s that Christmas thing happening?”
“Are you kidding? The 25th…”
“Are YOU kidding? Five days?
This is a joke. Five days isn’t enough notice to take a vacation. You were told
the rules when you were hired last month. Everyone knows the rules. At least
two weeks’ notice for vacations and days off.”
“But it’s Christmas!”
“I’m unfamiliar with such a
thing. Is this some kind of holiday?”
“Of course it is. Christmas.
Celebration of Christ’s birth!”
“I don’t know this Christ
fellow. Does he work here? Birthdays aren’t typically reason for time off of
work, unless maybe it’s your own. And even then it’s rare. They’re definitely
not excused as holidays.”
“But it IS a holiday!”
“A holiday for whom?”
“For me, and for other
Christians. It’s a religious holiday, sir!”
“Haha. What religion is that,
then?”
“Christianity. I’m a Christian,
and Christmas is a Christian holiday, celebrating the birth of our Lord and
Savior Jesus Christ.”
“I’m afraid we don’t recognize
this religion, and as such, we can’t make you accommodations. It sounds,
truthfully, like you’re making it up.”
“What do you mean you don’t
recognize it? You don’t have to recognize it for it to be a real religion.”
“I’m sure this is true. But for
us to respect it as something we give time off work for, we’re going to need a
little bit more than just you saying so.”
“How about hundreds of millions
of people worldwide saying so? Hundreds of thousands of churches across the
planet. Mr. Prot, Christianity is the largest religion in the world. I know you’ve
heard of it.”
“I’ve heard of it just now.
Sure. But numbers don’t mean anything to this company unless they have to do
with sales.”
“Hundreds of millions of people
around the world accept Jesus Christ as their personal savior, delivering them
from the depths of Hell into the white palms of God the Father!”
“That’s their choice. And I
respect that. But that doesn’t affect this company.”
“It’s the most common religion in
the world, sir. How does this company not recognize it?”
“We don’t have much to
recognize, I’m afraid. I’m going on your word alone. How old is this religion?”
“Two thousand years old, give or
take a couple decades. Jesus Christ is the prophet who died for our sins. He
died two thousand years ago.”
“Right. Well, see, Stessus here,”
and Camberland grabbed a tall guy walking by with a long tie, and pulled him
close, “he put in for time off at the beginning of the month. It’s also for a
religious holiday.”
“Yes, it’s called Christmas,”
said Nancy.
Stessus gave her the same
perplexed eye Camberland was giving her.
“No, I don’t think it is,” said
the boss. “What’d you say your religion is called?”
“Obnomox,” said Stessus.
“Wow!” Camberland seemed to
explode with excitement. “What a name! Sounds a lot better than Christianity.
And how old is the prophet in your religion?”
“Five hundred million years old,
sir. Though the religion itself is only four hundred million years old, since
it took close to a hundred million years for the God Thing’s archaic
manuscripts to be deciphered by the Secundus Scribes. But we have a pretty rich
history.”
“I bet! See, Nancy. That’s a
religion. Your petty child’s game of human sacrifice doesn’t register here. Are
you sure you didn't just make it up?”
“Me make up Christianity? Sir,
that’s insulting. That’s, that’s blasphemous and offensive.”
“It sounds like something you’ve
made up. And I can’t blame you. I made up many a tall tale in my day to get out
of work. But I grew out of that. I wouldn’t be manager if I still tried to pull
that crap.”
Nancy punched the wall of her
cubicle.
“So I’m working on Christmas?
Everyone’s working on Christmas?”
“We always work on December 25th
unless it’s a weekend.”
“Except us Obnomoxians,” said
Stessus. “The Lulk’D’Haim Prayer Festival goes from the 24th to the
31st.”
“Of course. Except the
Obnomoxians,” said Mr. Prot. “But they ask off ahead of time, with plenty of
notice.”
Nancy couldn’t believe what she
was hearing. She could believe in Heaven and Hell and intelligent design and
world peace and loving her fellow man and that God answered her prayers, but
she couldn’t believe the things she had just heard. It was too much.
“There must be other Christians
in the office,” she said. “I’ll find them.”
“If there are I’ve never met
them,” said Mr. Prot.
“Nor I,” said Stessus, just trying
to help.
“We’ve got Obnomoxians; we’ve
got Haldurs, who celebrate no holidays and don’t see in color; we’ve got
Gstyurmins, who participate in the same blood rituals as the Quanif Khoqs
around October, but don’t drink the blood, because they think hemoglobin
consumption disturbs the meditation state; we’ve got a couple Brells, who bring
their festival to work and celebrate in the bathroom; and we’ve got a cubicle
full of Muslims. Never heard of a Christian.”
“Take me to the Muslims, then.
They’ll know all about Jesus. He’s their prophet, too.”
“That’s not true,” said Stessus.
“Asaf told me the name of their prophet. He’s called Muhammed. Definitely
sounds nothing like Jesus.”
“No, that’s their latest
prophet. Before him they had Jesus. They believe in Jesus as a prophet.”
“How does that work?” asked the
boss. “Two religions share one prophet? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It fucking does!” cried Nancy.
Stessus laughed. “These young
religions. They don’t know what they’re trying to do. Still making it up as
they go.”
“I guess you’re right,” said
Camberland. “Nancy, we’ll talk about this later. You can always take a sick day
if you don’t want to work. If your made up religious holiday is so important to
you, maybe take a sick day and celebrate it by yourself.”
“I’ll be celebrating it with my
whole family, actually,” said Nancy, rather steadfastly.
Camberland Prot rolled his eyes,
because he knew she was probably making things up again.
“You do that, Nancy. Just don’t
take too many sick days for silly made up holidays. You’ll need them if you
actually get sick.”
“I won’t get sick, as God is my
protector.”
“Obno is the only true god,”
said Stessus, coldly, before going back to his cubicle. Camberland waved
goodbye to Nancy and kept walking, trying to remember where he had been going.
When she sat down again Nancy
pulled out her Bible. She paged through it in a blind rage, hoping its powers
of focus and healing would return her to a calm that quelled her hate. Her
hands clasped, her head bowed, her book in her lap, she prayed to God for a plague over the office. If he did not
deliver, she would try to pray to Obno, the mysterious God Thing of Obnomox.
Little did she know how much she would come to regret praying to a five hundred
million year old deity without its permission.
The End
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