Grinning Squirrel Industries (Pseudo-ACRO)

[Rutskarn]

All was quiet in the ACRONYM quarter of FFRPG. All of them, paragons of morality, of ideals, of philosophies and visions. All of them, lofty guardians of arcane doctrines and pointless conflicts. Consumed with the desire to thrive, to conquer...coupled with a burning, self-loathing need for the status quo.

All of them, in short, something grand.

Who needs that?

When Rutskarn bought the large, maze-like warehouse, nobody paid much attention. He was always on again and off again, dodging assassins, rent collectors, members of AMEN, his own teammates...here for a few hours, gone in a flash. Some people knew he was hoarding cash, but not what he wanted it for. They figured he'd vanish shortly afterwards, whether on his own two legs or into some shallow and unmarked grave.

They might be right. In good time, they'll find out.

EMPLOYEE REGISTRY:

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Rutskarn--CEO

Mr. Woolworth--Vice President

Phase--Head, Public Relations

Jack Trilby--Head of Sales Dept., Not Corporate Espionage

John Johnson--Provisional Head, Research and Development

Clive Harris--Head of Budget

Mr. Mud--Head of Security

Cpt. Soup--Head of Shipping

Employees Needed: Security, Manufacturing, Janitorial, Administrative, Management, Peons, Actually Just About Anything.

EMPLOYEE CONTRACT:

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Grinning Squirrel Industries Employee Contract

By signing this contract, you signify:

1.) That you owe allegiance to Grinning Squirrel Industries, or at least will pretend to owe allegiance when somebody important asks you.

2.) That you will not betray or subvert GSI for the sake of your organization, and then get caught.

3.) That you will not overstep the rulings of any employee with seniority in the area in question.

4.) That you’ll make some attempt to occasionally show up at work, even just to see how things are doing, eh?

5.) That you will obey the dress code, which is to say, you will wear clothes that cover the naughty bits (if applicable).

6.) That you will obey the Code of Conduct:

-No Murder
-No Larceny
-No Lewd Acts
-No Lascivious Acts
-No Communism
-No Badmouthing Squirrels
-No Worshipping False Idols*
-Bread or Death


*Unless you brought enough for the whole class.

7.) If you’re going to break the CoC, be discreet about it, eh?

CURRENT ARRANGEMENTS:

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None. We are sad, penniless people.

SCHEDULED MEETINGS:

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12:00 AM July 3rd through 12:00 AM July 4th. (RE: Breaking Into The Market)

SCHEDULED BEATINGS:

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If Clive doesn't watch it around Soup, there'll be one in like 24 hours.

ASSETS AND WAGES:

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WEEK 1

Assets: $.40, Factory, Scrap Metal, Fecktons of Radioactive Material

Wages: ON ABEYANCE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

APPLICATION FORM:

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EMPLOYEES WANTED

Be on the ground floor of some enterprise of a vague description, with uncertain goals, ends, and corporate ethics. Pay scales are reasonable by 3rd-world standards. Many higher-level positions available. A far more realistic amount of grunt positions available. To apply for a position, fill out the following sheet.

1.) What is your name?

2.) What race/species/abstract concept are you?

3.) What are your specialities?

4.) What are your weaknesses?

5.) List prior occupations here:

6.) Any groups you are affiliated with?

7.) How many people have you killed?

8.) How many of those people were killed with a melee weapon?

9.) If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?

10.) Your personal statement:

11.) Anything you'd like to add?

What was he planning? Only time would tell.

[Phase]

Phase, fresh off whatever the hell it is he does, grabs a sheet nd scribbles in some answers.

1.) What is your name?
Phase

2.) What race/species/abstract concept are you?
I am an abstract concept of the Moon

3.) What are your specialities?
I'm good at changing tides, moving large objects with my mind, y'know, the basics.

4.) What are your weaknesses?
Nuh-uh, I don't reveal weaknesses to paper. I don't trust wood pulp.

5.) List prior occupations here:
Gravitational balance
Bringer of Life
Bringer of Death
The Devil's Nightlight
Stock Manager

6.) Any groups you are affiliated with?
Um, AMEN, but it's sorta dying.

7.) How many people have you killed?
Man, how many people haven't I killed?

8.) How many of those people were killed with a melee weapon?
More than zero, I'm sure.

9.) If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?
I'd be a poll tree.

10.) Your personal statement:
I'm watching you, paper.

11.) Anything you'd like to add?
I've always wanted to try working with people...

He then slips the paper into the drop box and walks away, eying the pieces of paper suspiciously.

[Rutskarn]

A minute later, a wiry man in an ill-fitting suit ambles by, wearing a pair of acid-green sunglasses and looking vaguely like a balding half-man half-mole rat crossbreed. He pulls out a resume, fills it out, and drops it in the box.

1.) What is your name?

John Johnson

2.) What race/species/abstract concept are you?

Extremely human

3.) What are your specialities?

Research, development

4.) What are your weaknesses?

Manual labor, personal relations

5.) List prior occupations here:

--Respectable Clerk

--Ethical Scientist for Some Research Program I'm Sure You Haven't Heard Of

--Upstanding citizen

6.) Any groups you are affiliated with?

Nope

7.) How many people have you killed?

Nope

8.) How many of those people were killed with a melee weapon?

Nope

9.) If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?

One that's not suspicious

10.) Your personal statement:

Hi

11.) Anything you'd like to add?

Nope

[J.B. Ganning]

A short man in a blue Hawaiian shirt, short tan trousers, sunglasses, and a white trilby climbs over a fence, possibly some place away from the factory, and sneaks towards the drop box. There, he takes out a pen from his pocket and signs the papers in invisible ink.

1.) What is your name?

Jack Trilby

2.) What race/species/abstract concept are you?

Human. Is there anything else in this universe that can think properly?

3.) What are your specialities?

Privately eying you, and taking photos for evidence--I mean... wearing hats.

4.) What are your weaknesses?

1930's romance.

5.) List prior occupations here:

Private Eye
Head Detective of AVPD

6.) Any groups you are affiliated with?

I'm not in the KKK if that's what you're saying.

7.) How many people have you killed?

I'm saving my gun for a special occasion.

8.) How many of those people were killed with a melee weapon?

I don't bring knives to gunfights, Mister.

9.) If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?

One with a nice trilby.

10.) Your personal statement:

Here's lookin' at me, paper.

11.) Anything you'd like to add?

I have no little friends.

Once finished, he tosses it into the drop box, real cool like. By that I mean he tries to throw it in, but results in letting it be caught by the wind, and winds up chasing it for twenty minutes. After catching it, he slots it into the box carefully.

[Rutskarn]

The next day, there's another sign there.

EMPLOYEE INFORMATION

The first round of hiring will take place on June 30th. All employees will be given a job title, company access, a mission statement, and a business card suitable for their signature. Also, full legal liability.

[J.B. Ganning]

Jack enters the scene. His vacation-type clothes have been replaced by a smashing suit, pinstripe black in colour. When he notices the sign, he walks right up to it and removes a trilby hat matching his suit, and adjusts his white tie with a spare hand while reading it. "Sam told me this place was off its top." He begins thinking, "He didn't mention business cards, though. I'll be hoping for a subtle off-white colouring; tasteful thickness to the text--Maybe a watermark too..."

[Rutskarn]

Judgment Day.

The following positions have been issued:

Rutskarn: CEO of Grinning Squirrel Industries.

Job description: He runs this place.

Mr. Woolworth: Vice President of Grinning Squirrel Industries.

Job description: Is actually a sock puppet.

Jack Trilby: Head of Sales Dept, Not Corporate Espionage

Job description: Is responsible for managing the sale of weapons, items, etc. to the ACRO organizations. Also: not spying for the CEO when called upon.

Phase: Head of Public Relations.

Job Description: Comes up with advertising programs, liasons with other industries.

John Johnson: Reserach and Development.

Job Description: Devise new products until we can hire someone who is not shady as hell.

All employees: Meet outside the building as soon as possible for a briefing.

We are still accepting applications.

[Phase]

Phase waits patiently outside the building.

Patiently of course meaning redecorating the pavement with all sorts of paints, as he is wont when bored.

[J.B. Ganning]

Jack stares at his job application, eyes wider than Phase. "Weapons?" He said to himself, "I have been working on a prototype miniature dreadnaught armed with a DD-RG 666, but I dunno." He decides to venture more into this mysteriously mysterious corporation and heads for the authorized meeting area.

[Rutskarn]

You both stand outside for a moment, bathing in the awkward silence.

Just enough time passes that you start to feel awkward. Not enough time that you can break the ice with the other person standing there--make a joke about how long you've been standing there--but you're still more than a little bored.

And then, at precisely that moment, Rutskarn does not appear.

A moment later, though, he does.

He has a sock puppet on his hand.

"Gentlemen! Glad you could make it. Congratulations on being the first round of convicts....er, employees under the banner of Grinning Squirrel industries. I'll nip over an Outlined Contract as soon as I've finished it, but for the mean time, you're under Implied Contract. That means if you divulge any part of our mission statement, I have you hunted down and quite severely murdered.

"Right. Now, time to explain.


"Our mission is to provide firepower, supplies, missions, contracts, family pets, and incentive to members of ACRONYM organizations. We will develop, manufacture, sell, and maintain said items.

"Also encouraged: embezzlement, backstabbing, corporate espionage, calling unnecessary meetings, and that sort of thing.

"Work begins...very soon."

[J.B. Ganning]

Having a strong jaw about him, Jack decides to use it. "Hey, Rutty boy, when is we gettin' our busy cards?" In this, he considers to talk further. Briefly. "And what's with dis' contract? It's not like I'm no private eye or nothin'." He stops with the questions now, and thinks of happy thoughts and how he'd like to choke those.

[Rutskarn]

Rutskarn coughs. "Hrm. Excellent question. I'll let my Vice President field that one."

He holds up the sock puppet. Not even attempting ventriloquism, he begins.

"Oh hellow, friend! It's so nice to see you! You'll get your business cards when we begin operations soon, and the contract will just be there to attain domination of your immortal soul! It was all my idea!"

Rutskarn tuts disapprovingly. "Seems a bit harsh, isn't it? Still, it's my Vice President's ruling, and I can't overrule it."

[billtodamax]

A man walks up to the building. A kind of weasely man, who, will clearly not evil, will enjoy making everything you do pointlessly difficult and time consuming. He's the sort that would make you print your report seventeen times, just so you have enough of them to file correctly, yet at the same time, only give one of those reports to the 20 or so people that need to read it, while restricting photocopying to the amount of pages minus one that your report is, then enforcing this new rule to the letter, unless it suits him to change it. Oh yeah, and he speaks in Sandy Brown. Ew.
Nice place. He says, then walks up and fills out a form.

1.) What is your name?

2.) What race/species/abstract concept are you?
Human
3.) What are your specialities?
Forming commitees, correct office filing procedures, being unpleasant.
4.) What are your weaknesses?
Enjoyment of pointless tasks.
5.) List prior occupations here:
Comittee managing director.
6.) Any groups you are affiliated with?
-
7.) How many people have you killed?
1, by mistake.
8.) How many of those people were killed with a melee weapon?
none.
9.) If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?
I'm not a tree.
10.) Your personal statement:
-
11.) Anything you'd like to add? No.

[Phase]

Phase looks down at his paints, drops them, and goes on inside the building.

[Rutskarn]

A man walks up to the building. A kind of weasely man, who, will clearly not evil, will enjoy making everything you do pointlessly difficult and time consuming. He's the sort that would make you print your report seventeen times, just so you have enough of them to file correctly, yet at the same time, only give one of those reports to the 20 or so people that need to read it, while restricting photocopying to the amount of pages minus one that your report is, then enforcing this new rule to the letter, unless it suits him to change it. Oh yeah, and he speaks in Sandy Brown. Ew.
Nice place. He says, then walks up and fills out a form.

Rutskarn jabs a finger at him.

"You. You're hired. You're in charge of Budgets. What's your name?"

[billtodamax]

Clive Harris. He says. Aren't you even going to look at my form? And then submit it to peer review? I can see that I'll have a lot of work to do. Mutters Clive. Do we even have a dress code?

[Rutskarn]

"Funny you should ask. Funny you should ask. The contract is being drawn up as we speak, should be up within the hour."

[billtodamax]

Good, I'll have to read that, and make some changes to it I'm sure, noone ever holds themselves up to my high standards. Clive says.

((Is it natural to be so angry at your own characters?))

[Rutskarn]

((Aaaand it's up.))

[billtodamax]

Clive starts reading through the contract.
Hmm, just as I thought. He says. This won't do at all. I demand changes be made! He says. Look at the dress code! No mention of ties, at all. He smacks the contract.

[Rutskarn]

"I direct you...oh, excuse me."

*koff*

"I direct you to the Vice President, Mr. Woolworth."

He raises the sock puppet.

"Now, there, Clivey, you need to be a team player! You can wear anything appropriate you like, but there's no way you can get other people to obey the dress code unless you withhold their budgets from them in increasingly gut-busting and zany ways."

[J.B. Ganning]

"Sam won't be happy at all when he hears about this." Jack murmered, crumpling up a contract and tossing it to the floor. After straightening his tie, he headed inside, slipping the new contract into his jacket pocket. "Tommy'll be happy as a newborn llama."

[billtodamax]

Clive thinks for a while.
Sounds good to me. He says, then wanders off starting to compose the budgets for the next year.

[J.B. Ganning]

Trilby, that being the person, not the hat nor the thief carrying a multi-purpose umbrella, stepped behind Phase with a folded note in his hand. "Listen, kid, I got a little advice for ya." He suggested, slipping the paper into his...its pocket. "Take it, and go paint up some ideas." And just like that he was gone! Gone; by a possibly broken vending machine attempting to buy a Big Turk. He was muttering something about all the food looking like cardboard cutouts while kicking the plexiglass exterior for a reaction.

In Phases pocket is a very obvious idea for a mascot. A grinning squirrel, possibly mad as a hatter, holding a(n) fancy/expensive looking gun. Judging by Rutsy's art style, we're more likely to get "mad as a hatter" than we would "cute as a button" breed of squirrel. It's always good to have a poster, right?

[Rutskarn]

When Trilby presses a button, the machine chirps.

"I'm sorry, Trilby. I can't let you do that."

The very first time it kicked, it goes into lockdown mode and powers off.

[Phase]

Phase reaches into his pocket and pulls out the note.
"Grinning... Squirrel..."

He suddenly looks up and shouts "Eureka! Woolworth, new idea for a company mascot! An English alligator who plays the xylophone! Dupes will be lining up for miles just to buy our ICBMs with this guy on the side!"

[Rutskarn]

Rutskarn coughs gently.

"Er. Right. ICBMs. You know."

He shifts, then says quietly and quickly:

"Eventually."

He pauses for a moment.

"This, hm. This might be a good time to mention our...fiscal...situation..."

A little sheepishly, he tacks up a sign.

(CHECK OP FOR UPDATES)

[billtodamax]

...That will make it very difficult to budget. Says Clive in that weasely little voice of his. Who's in charge of marketing again?

[Rutskarn]

...That will make it very difficult to budget. Says Clive in that weasely little voice of his. Who's in charge of marketing again?

Rutskarn held up a finger. "Uh. Well, Mr. Phase is responsible for certain aspects...vis-a-vis the handling of promotions, official statements, etc. However, we have no real director of advertising at this time, besides the individual I have shackled in my basement."

He paused.

"Legally employed. The individual I have legally employed. Er. In my basement.

"Speaking of which: it's time to announce our first meeting. Check the meeting schedule for further information."

[billtodamax]

Clive looks at the schedule.
It appears that this meeting started two hours ago.
Of course, this is probably because Clive's player is at GMT +11.