New Boss
copyright © 2012 by Robert L. Blau
"Have you met the new boss yet?" Terry's voice was vibrating with unaccustomed tension.
"Um, no. Just got back from two weeks on the coast, you know. Rotten weather. Not a speck of sunshine." I spew small talk when I get nervous, and I was reacting to Terry's terror. "Should I be worried?"
"It's just ..." Terry lowered her voice a few decibels. "It's just ... he's re-posting all the supervisors' jobs! Even yours!"
"Well, that's not a big deal," I replied in what I hope was a comforting tone. "Lots of managers do that, especially if they've rearranged some functions. Kind of puts their own stamp on things. It may be annoying, having to apply for your own job, but it's nothing to worry about."
"No," she continued, even lower. "You don't understand. It's the qualifications! There's a new criterion for qualification! Uh-oh! Here comes the boss!"
I didn't see anyone. I looked all around. Still nothing. Terry was mugging furiously, bugging out her eyes in a downward direction, while trying to appear not to be doing anything. Then I saw it, scurrying across the floor.
"Oh, there's one of those ... rat things," I said, raising a foot for a good stomp. "I'll just get rid of that first. I'm sure the new boss wouldn't like to find those running around the office."
"NOOOOO!!!" screeched Terry, smothering me protectively, but firmly, in her leathery wings. "That is the new boss! That's what I've been trying to tell you!"
"You mean about the new criterion?" I asked stupidly, as I felt the known universe tilt.
"Yes!" she cried. "Only mammals need apply!"
"Ah, so you would be the T-Rex," the new boss squeaked at me.
"Not only would be," I replied, "but am. Call me Rex. Everyone else does." I'll say this for the pipsqueak: he didn't back off an inch.
"Well, ... Rex," said the rat, "your kind's day is over."
"Oh, really?" I roared, a little louder than I had intended. "Says who?" It didn't sound clever, even to me.
"In case you hadn't noticed," said the rat, "there was a major asteroid strike down on the peninsula a couple of months ago."
I hadn't, but my gloomed-out vacation leapt to mind. "So what?" I countered.
"So your lot is on the way out," replied the rat. "Don't worry! We're not going to euthanize you or anything. We mammals are very compassionate. We're just going to let you die out naturally."
Compassionate, my fangs. "So that's why you're kicking us out of our own jobs?" I snapped. "Is this more of that 'outclassing' stuff? Because I've never been a proponent of that! It'll never work, in the long run. Mark my words! Mammals may be cheaper, but they don't have the experience and know-how of reptiles."
"It's no good whining to me," squeaked the rat. "You should have known this was coming! You had plenty of opportunity to re-tool, to go out and acquire fur and warm blood and mammalian apparatus! But did you? Well, it's too late now."
Hmph! Smug, arrogant little runt. He thinks we dinosaurs are as obsolete as ... as something that's very obsolete. But which we don't have a word for yet. But probably will soon. He isn't half as clever as he thinks he is. Just wait until his mammals have to get something down off a top shelf! They'll come skittering to us then, you can bet! And I, for one, will not come cheap! Hmph again, I say!
And I bet not a one of those little buggers knows COBOL!