Hank walked into Milton’s office, shut the door behind him, and sat down in the chair opposite Milton’s desk. “Would you mind telling me what’s going on, Hank?” Milton said. It was less of a question than an order. “I went out to the construction site this morning and no one was there. What the hell, Hank? You’re my operations manager.”
“Sorry boss,” Hank said, “but the EPA shut us down. Something about toxic chemicals in the soil. I’ll look into it.”
“I’ll handle this, Hank,” Milton said. “Tell your guys to be ready tomorrow.”
The next day Hank returned to Milton’s office. “Boss,” we just got clearance to start working at the site again. How’d you get that done?”
“It’s not what you know, Hank, it’s who you know,” Milton said. “I gotta guy at the EPA who’s going through a tough time, you know. So I greased the skids a little.”
“A payoff, boss?”
Milton got a smug look on his face. “Hank, always remember this. Money talks, bullshit walks.”
Written for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Photo credit: wildverbs.