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You: C'mon, this is going to be some heroic tale about an angry audience of handicapped people and there was no way any comic could possibly have a good show, but lo and behold, here comes the Great Matt Sadler to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, right?

Me: No! Not at all!

You: Were you fired?

Me: Umm, no...

You: Did you get punched in the face?

Me: Would you be happier with the story if I were?

You: ...maybe. All right, tell the damn story!

I was hired to do a corporate gig for a really big company that shall remain nameless. I was brought in to their headquarters about a month before the show was to occur. They asked me to wear a suit for the preliminary meetings and I did. I walked in the doors of this giant building and was given a security clearance, a badge, and a codename. It was all very official.

I was brought into a conference room where I was introduced to at least a dozen vice-presidents, team leaders, shift supervisors and department heads. I was extremely nervous, being way out of my element. I've never worked in a proper office and the smells were unfamiliar and scary. They used terms like "exit strategy flowchart," "paradigm shift," and "payroll check". Whenever I was introduced to one of these powerful people they would ask me how I was and I all could say was, "sweaty."

They sat me down and told me what was expected of me.

"Our division is responsible for Incall Sales and Tech Support and we want to play a little trick on our employees. We're going to tell them that you are an outside consultant that is being brought in by corporate to trim some fat. We want you to come in to the phone floor every other day for the next month or so, carry around a clipboard and make them think that their jobs are on the line... you know, as a joke!"

Inside my head I thought, "No! That's just mean. These poor people who work their asses off in an industry where jobs are regularly outsourced overseas and people lose their livelihoods and you want to FUCK with them?"

Then they showed me the check...

"Is there a bonus if I happen to make one of them cry?"

I started coming into the office every other day. I was instructed to not be friendly or accommodating and man, did I play the part. You know when you call someplace and they tell you the call might be monitored? Yeah, that was me doing the monitoring! I was in a chair right next to the employee with a stern look, a clipboard and a ball-point pen.

Let me tell you that I monitored the nicest and most-professional people I've ever listened to on a phone call. They were polite and didn't get frustrated at even the most irritating questions. I even found myself rooting for these employees.

And yet...

I also felt a sense of power. It dawned on me that they were terrified of me. These poor people had actually bought that I could end their career with the stroke of a pen! As the days went on, I began to march up and down the aisles of this office, pausing periodically to listen to a given employee's suggestion to a customer, whereupon I would sigh, mutter under my breath and make a note on my clipboard. I usually wrote something like...

"I wonder if that lady had pizza for lunch? She sure smells like it! Ha! Ha!"

When I was in the room, people would notice me and freeze. Friendly conversations between employees would stop abruptly and work would recommence. I felt like Stalin with a button-down collar.

Finally the day of the show arrived. It was a company picnic for the Quarterly Progress Report. The meeting started and I stood in the back of the room. The Head of the Division was giving a Power Point presentation and really laying it on thick. He kept mentioning my name every time he would refer to "productivity." Whenever he would do that, every person in the room would nervously turn around and glance at me. I just glared back at them.

It came time for the boss to introduce me. My introduction to the audience was laden with skills and abilities that I not only didn't possess, but I didn't understand what they meant. When he said my name I began to sternly walk toward the dais. The applause from the terrified employees was thunderous.

I got to the stage and was handed a microphone. I took the microphone and pointed it at a portable CD player that I had brought with me. The CD player was bright pink and no one knew what they were supposed to think. Without saying a word, I pushed the play button.

"Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor began to thunder through the sound system. I glared at them and began to nod rhythmically and meaningfully as the chorus began. They looked completely confused as they looked from one another to me. I continued to glare and nod maniacally as the song gradually ended. The silence was deafening and uncomfortable. Then I began my fire and brimstone act. I thundered down on them about how no one had the eye of the tiger in that office. I wanted to see fire! I ran up and down the aisles and gesticulated wildly.

"Too many bathroom breaks! Not enough coke machines! No one writes the number 7 with that little line through the middle!"

It was going great until someone noticed that upper management could no longer hold back peals of laughter. I was sold out as the Man Behind the Curtain!

I felt betrayed by these upper-management types and vowed right then and there that their jobs would be outsourced if it was the last thing I ever did in my capacity as a consultant.

Then I remembered.

I slunk to the back of the room to the applause of a roomful of people. They were not applauding because I had been particularly good, however. They were also not applauding because they were good sports. They were applauding because they realized they still had a job...at least for now.

I collected my check and plodded to the parking lot. I smiled ruefully when I saw that my right front tire had been slashed.

Me: And then they punched me in the face. Happy?

You: Meh. I liked the last part.

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