Spice.

Flavor Text: It shreds its prey as each head fights for the choicest bits.

Lights rise to reveal three almost identical men sitting rigidly in a row at a table. The other side of the table has one empty chair slightly pulled out. All three of them are staring intently at the wall on the other side of the room. The ones on the sides have their arms at their sides, while the one in the center as them calmly placed with hands clasped in front of him on the table. This holds without any movement for a beat. The door behind the men opens slowly, making a very long drawn out squeaking sound. Into the doorway enters a rather short round nervous looking man cringing at the high pitched sound he is making with the door named Stan. The three men at the table make no indication of noticing his entrance. The man, shaking a little, begins to walk around the table. Before he comes into their sight, the man in the middle speaks up without moving his head the slightest bit.

Middle Man

(Coolly, yet authoritatively)

The door.

Stan jumps, and quickly shuffles over to shut the door, cringing at the screech of the un-oiled hinges. He then proceeds to slowly walk over to the table and take a seat tentatively across from the three men. He sits fidgeting a little, avoiding eye contact while they all glare at him.

Left Man

Do you know why you’ve been called here, Stan?

Stan shakes his head nervously and overly much so due to that.

Right Man

You see, Stan, there’s this thing in business we like to call… profit.

Middle Man

Profit is what everyone strives to have immense amounts of.

Right Man

Profit is also what this company hasn’t had any of in the last two quarters.

Left Man

We noticed, Stan, that you started working here two quarters ago.

Stan becomes even more frightened and fidgety.

Middle Man

Now this suggests to us that you, Stan , is that you are partially to blame for this recent trend.

Right Man

And that, Stan, that’s inexcusable.

Left Man

So, now do you know why you’ve been called here, Stan?

Stan does not respond with anything more then frantic nervousness and shaking.

Middle Man

That’s right Stan, we’re giving you a promotion.

Stan stops shaking and stares in complete shock.

Left Man

Pucker up Stan, you’re going to be replacing our more than competent manager of marketing.

Pause.

Right Man

Oh, and hey Stan, you’re the worst employee we have, really.

Middle Man

And that, Stan, is why we brought you in here to play this joke on you.

Right Man

Had you going for a second there, didn’t we Stan?

Left Man

We just thought we’d let you know your place, and add a little bit of fun, and creativity to the workplace at the same time.

Middle Man

You can go now if you like, Stan.

Stan stares blankly for a moment at the three men’s unwavering faces. Then slowly picks himself up and proceeds to head towards the door.

Right Man

Oh, and Stan…

Middle Man

Do close the door this time.

Left Man

You, wouldn’t want you to be the reason even more profit flew out from under our noses, now would you Stan?

Stan exits, closes the door. The three men sit, looking quite accomplished and full of themselves.

Lights fade to black.

Fin.