Pioneer

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All resources assigned to this release can now be stood down.

I read the notification in a big Teams channel set up for the massive project we were working on.

My fingers glided up to my laptop keyboard as if being guided by vegan ghosts at a tofu party and started tapping.

To be fair, some of them have barely stood up in the first place.

I tapped out and hit send.

I was pissed off. This week had been a hell of 12/13 hour working days, each one full of chaos, mad managers and shouting.

As was usual in my place, some people had just sat about picking dark-grapes from their back-bakery and making NFTs out of them whilst the rest of us had slaved away like gammon puppets in a biscuit tin.

As soon as I hit send I stared down at my hands in horror.

What had I done?! You don't call out the shameless skivers on a giant group chat that had all the big managers and executives in it.

No, the correct way to deal with lazy bastards is to chin them in the toilets whilst they were peeing. Well, the men at least. Might be a bit troublesome doing it in the ladies.

Men were always at their weakest when peeing. It's a fact.

If I ever get drafted to fight in a war, I will demand that it is held in a toilet.

On my screen a multitude of people were typing, the cute little animation that Teams did when people typed showed me that I was in big trouble.

I was usually so good at skating the line between being really useful to my company but being an annoying bastard at the same time but the move I had just made, it was a rookie move.

At this rate, I would be lucky if I wasn't sent to the Edinburgh office which is where all the useless fannybadgers ended up.

I shuddered remembering the old phrase, There is more enjoyment to be had at a Glasgow stabbing than an Edinburgh wedding.

It was true.

Oh god, people were still typing.

I closed my eyes and readied myself for the onslaught.

There was a small ding as the first message popped up.

It was a private message, not a reply in the main chat. It was from El-Jefe, the boss man.

I think you have a very valid point!

I stared at his message. There was something wrong here. What the fuck was he using an exclamation mark for? He should have been giving me a stern talking to about responsibility and presenting a united front.

Cheers, Boss-Guy. It's just a pain in the bahoomph when you know there are people literally tossing off into a sock all day and the rest of us, the mugs, are working ourselves to the bone.

I typed with a merry flourish. If I wasn't in trouble, I may as well double down on my point.

I flicked over to the main chat. No one had responded except for a couple of thumbs up's. My comment was now buried in a sea of congratulatory messages about how amazing we all were as a team.

I flicked back to El-Jefe who was typing away like a teen on Snapchat.

You are totally right and that is one of the reasons why I have volunteered you to be one of the Pioneers!

Another exclamation mark. Pioneers? I didn't like the sound of this.

Before I could ask any more another message popped up.

I have volunteered you to lead Red Team. Tuesdays and Thursdays in the office, starting from June. What do you say. Are you in?

My mouth went dry on reading his words. A strange prickling ran up and down my spine.

Go back into the office? Into COVID central??!? Was he fucking nuts? No chance. I had gotten used to staying at home and farting in peace instead of holding it in till it dissolved into my bloodstream as was normal in the office so that I didn't look like Captain Farty-Brown-Pants.

I readied myself to type a stern rebuttal.

Daddy-Bear, when you have a minute, can you help me with the washing?

The Good Lady yodelled from downstairs.

I paused, exhaled slowly then started to type.

A pioneer, eh? Funk it. Count me in.

I hit send.

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