By Fus Yvhikv

It’s a busy Saturday morning at The Home Depot. The Doers are getting
things done. Scores of customers are pouring through the front door.
Dressed in an orange Home Depot apron, Fixico is there to greet them.
“Excuse me, sir,” a female customer addresses Fixico. “Where can I find
“Are you talking to me?” an indignant Fixico responds. “You talkin’ to
Fixico puffs his chest out like a male peacock fanning his luminescent
tail feathers during mating season. He glances behind him and then
scans the big box store like Travis Bickle in the movie Taxi Driver.
“Are you talkin’ to me?” Fixico asks. “Then who are you talking to? You
must be talking to me because I’m the only one here.”
The female customer stares at Fixico wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
Fixico leans in towards her. She whips out a can of mace and sprays
Fixico. He staggers about rubbing his eyes as he coughs and wheezes.
Fixico loses balance and crashes into a tall display of light bulbs. The
bulbs land on top of Fixico completely covering him. Other bulbs hit the
concrete floor. The explosions sound like a fireworks show. Me, Yahola,
and Tarpalechee approach Fixico’s buried corpse.
“What the hell?” Yahola exclaims.

“Exactly,” Tarpalechee says as he holds a pack of bulbs. “I’ve been
trying to find these for a week!”
“We need to help Fixico!” I yell.
The pile of bulbs begins to shake and shimmy. Fixico’s head pops out.
His eyes resemble roasted Brussels Sprouts.
“Water! Water!” Fixico cries.
Tarpalechee crams a water bottle into Fixico’s mouth.
“No, spray his eyes,” I command.
Tarpalechee sprays water on Fixico’s swollen black eyes.
“What happened, Fixico?” I ask.
“I was practicing my Travis Bickle impersonation for next week’s
production of Taxi Driver,” Fixico replies. “When suddenly a Jodie
Foster look-alike maced me.”
“Such acting skills!” Yahola says.
Me, Yahola, and Tarpalechee burst out laughing. The store manager
appears and surveys the damage.
“Another big mess you’ve made, Fixico. This is coming out of your
paycheck,” The manager says.
“Yeah, I’m ok,” Fixico replies. “Thanks for asking.”
Then Fixico senses an opportunity.
“Actually I can’t see. I’m going to the doctor. I could be legally blind,”
Fixico says. “May need extended sick leave.”
“Don’t you dare game the system!” the manager declares.

We realize Fixico’s angle.
“Yeah, he needs to go see a doctor. We know just the guy,”
Tarpalechee says smiling.
“You mean Dr. C.C. Feelgood?” I ask.
“Yes. Ole Cash and Carry Feelgood,” Fixico says with a huge grin.
The manager shoots us a Clink Eastwood narrow-eyed stare.
“Hold on, boys. I know where this is going,” the manager says.
“Can you say Workers Comp?” I ask.
Me, Yahola, and Tarpalechee all high-five each other. Fixico attempts to
high-five but misses by a mile.
“Let’s get down to brass tacks,” the manager says. “What will it take to
end this workers comp charade? Your last claim of Mad Cow’s Disease
cost my store thousands.”
“MOOOOOO!” Fixico bellows.
“See,” Yahola says, “The poor man still isn’t over MCD!”
“MCD my butt! He’s going to have brain damage when I get finished
with him,” the manager replies.
“Are you threatening my client?” Tarpalechee asks.
“Ha! So now you are an attorney?” the manager responds.
“I did stay at a Holiday Inn last night,” Tarpalechee jokes. “Let’s talk
settlement. What are you offering my client?”
The manager thoughtfully scratches his head.
“How about a raise and a promotion to Assistant General Manager?”
the manager offers.

“What kind of dollars are we talking about?” Tarpalechee asks. “Show
me the money!”
“I’ll double his salary.” The manager responds.
Tarpalechee’s face brightens.
“How’s that sound?” Tarpalechee asks Fixico.
Fixico rubs his eyes. He manages to conjure up a weak cough.
“I don’t know. Still can’t see. What would I be doing?” Fixico asks.
“As little as possible,” the manager replies.
Fixico’s face brightens.
“That’s my kinda job! How about Hulu on the breakroom TV?” Fixico
asks dreamily.
“A pinball machine?”
“Hot tub?”
“Don’t push it Fixico. You’ll be avoiding work for years to come.”
Fixico and the manager shake hands.
“I’m a Doer,” Fixico says with a huge grin. “Home Depot: How Doers
Get More Done.”