The Blogging Parlour

I think I have some biscuit crumbs down my trousers.

I Am Aperture


A guest post by Cave Johnson, founder and CEO of Aperture Science Innovators.

This is Cave Johnson, recently returned from the Futuroscope lab where I have beheld the world we call “the future”. It’s a fantastic place, full of exhilarating discoveries, breathtaking achievements, and five quadrillion gallons of orange jello in international waters that are absolutely, positively, not our fault, no matter what the UN investigative committee says.

It has come to my attention that some people disapprove of my casual, some would say cavalier, attitude to firing people. Obviously it wasn’t anyone who works for me – well, not any longer, anyway – but I’d like to take the time now to set the record straight. I put in a new policy that tried to put a happier face on the relentless firings. I’d turn up in person, clap them on the back, then give them a photo of the yacht I’m going to buy with the money I save from firing them. Turned out to be a complete disaster. I hate wringing tears out of my clothes, and not one of them ever paid the invoice for that photo, I had to send the debt collectors after them to pay up. So now, if you don’t like the way I run Aperture, then you have a choice.

First, you can “volunteer for exit employment”. It’s completely voluntary, requires no notice, and I get to choose what I class as “volunteering”. It could be incompetence, tardiness, having a smart mouth, not having a smart enough mouth, being “the messenger”, disagreeing with me, or sending me an email with “FYI” anywhere in it. The HR department loves coming up with these cutesy terms for “fired”. Apparently it riles up the peons when you “fire” them, so you’ve got to “downsize” or “terminate” or “eliminate their position”. I think it’s a waste of time, personally, and it’s not their time, it’s Aperture’s time, and that means it’s my time, and I get all “termination-of-employment”-y when my time is wasted.

Or, of course, you can die. That’s easy, people manage it all the time around here. We have a very good relationship with our insurance company and local law enforcement, though, so don’t worry. We guarantee we’ll return your body to your next of kin, as much as we can find or scrape up, anyway, just as soon as we’ve run out of ways to use it in the Necrotic Reclamation Laboratory. This one guy they turned into a hatstand. He was one of those lazy shiftless do-nothing bums. You know, a scientist. Best damned hatstand I ever had, though. He’s still holding my hat to this very day.

Caroline, send in one of those yacht brochures and a sandwich. This is Cave Johnson, signing off.


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