1.9: Billie richfellow
The middle managers of Gnome Resources wasted little time, and began assigning team project leaders at the same time Director McHatton droned on about the calming and enlightening rewards of hard work. It was going to be a long day.
An older Gnome Resource agent, with a bendy and twisted mustache, came up to the five children and assigned a smirking team leader. “This is Billie Richfellow, your team junior manager,” The bendy-mustached agent whispered as McHatton continued his monologue in the background. The agent then systematically began reading the disclaimer he held, “Your junior manager will report your performance to Director McHatton. You understand any property destruction while performing Efficiency Recovery is your liability. Further, you understand that poor performance will result in immediate expulsion from Batch…”
Billie interrupted the older agent, “I’m sure they will be fine! We don’t need to worry them. Leave them alone, can’t you see they’re scared enough already!”
Billie was actually ranked higher than a junior Gnome Resource Agent, and could theoretically be hostile to his juniors. However, such interactions were normally frowned upon across departments, especially to Gnome Resources. The five children were speechless, and hoped that Billie’s abrasiveness would not get them into further trouble.
The crooked-mustached agent scowled as though he swallowed a large pill, jotted down a note in his binder, and then marched off to the next group to assign the next junior manager.
With the Gnome Resource agent gone, Billie tuned to the children and looked each of them in the eye. Billie was an older kid; maybe 18 years old. He was quite handsome, and his hair was perfect. He was probably the son of a director, judging by his robes, which were vibrant, clean, and (above all) well-crafted. While the other junior managers seemed scared or determined, Billie seemed snide and overly-sure of himself. He had a smile, as though only he knew of a joke.
The eager junior manager mumbled to himself, “Hmm, hmmm, oh god, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
He clapped his hands once very loud, puffed up his chest and delivered to the five children, “This is going to be a good time! I know you all are a bunch of losers, and times have been hard, but we’re going to turn that around! The good news is that you’re on my team. My name is William Richfellow, but call me Billie. And don’t be scared to ask questions. I’m here to make sure today’s activities are a success!”
Confused, Metalmouth raised his hand.
“You sir, with the metal trash, did you have a question?”
“Are we building things?”
“Great question!” the junior manager replied, “I’m open to your ideas, but we’re going to do whatever it takes, only we’re going to do it better than everyone else.”
Metalmouth seemed even more confused. Fimf raised his hand next.
“Yes, large fellow, did you have anything to add?”
Fimf seemed to be lacking the same lean composure of the other gnomes who spent their time working the factory floor. He had developed little soft spots in the mid section, but “large fellow” was a bit of an exaggeration. Fimf seemed taken-aback by the comment, but continued with his question.
“Are we going to get a lunch break?”
“Another great question!” replied Billie, “and seriously, I hope if any of you have anything you wish to express or add, that you do not hesitate to ask me at the proper time. I’m here for you. We’re a team, but I’m here for you. Okay, let’s get to work!”
With that, Billie turned around and began walking to Director McHatton. The old gnome had finished his encouraging speech, which not a single gnome listened to. Now he was giving out team assignments.
Fimf and Metalmouth look at each other. It was clear that Billie wasn't actually answering questions. Worse, it seemed unlikely they were going to get a lunch break.