Inner Dialog of a Backstabber
Imagining what it is like to be an SoB
The backstabber sat back in his office chair, day dreaming about how he had climbed so far up the corporate ladder. Stefano, an immigrant from Italy, thought back on his childhood. His father was persecuted for his political beliefs and Stefano resented the resultant poverty under which he was raised, as his father could not find permanent work and his father's choice to fight for political beliefs rather than enrich his son tormented Stefano. Stefano never understood his father and if he had he would have realized that his father's political struggles were all about helping his son. He did not want his son to grow up in an unjust world and strived to improve the world his son lived in rather than the material status of his son.
Stefano was a bitter man, deep inside, but he kept it well hid. He did his dirty work in secret, behind a facade of friendliness. Stefano was the classic backstabber. And so, using a little magic, we descend into his internal thoughts, listening to his inner dialog as he sits in the chair he stole from someone else gloating about his accomplishments.
Well, I've made it. Everything is under my control. That selfish asshole got what was coming to him and I enjoyed every minute of it. I made him paranoid by stalking him anonymously. I went through his desk, which, by the way, is now MY desk, whenever he was out. I learned a lot about him and then slit his throat just like they did to my selfish father. I hate that motherfucker. There are no conceptual rewards in this world. Any man that chooses to devote his energies to philosophy rather than his own flesh and blood should be destroyed. The real rewards of this world are position, money, real estate and a good car. I've got it all. He doesn't even have his sanity anymore, because I took it from him.
How I enjoyed stabbing that knife into his back and twisting it from side to side, pushing his buttons, humiliating him, getting justice for what my father did to me. His daughter will hate him, just like I hate my father, I'll see to it. I'll drive his life into the ground. I've already taken away his job. Now I'll see to it that he lives in poverty and that his wife leaves him and his daughter hates him. Bwahahahahaha!!!! I love it. I love the smell of burned idealist in the morning. Maybe I can get him to kill himself. That would even be better. I'd love to see that waste of life destroyed. He's no better than another Karl Marx, another man who chose his ideas over his children.
Wait Stefano. Calm down. Now you really didn't want to destroy him, did you? Of course not, I deserve to be in this chair. I am talented. Sure, I would be here if I didn't stab him in the back, but sometimes justice and truth takes a little extra work, like lying, cheating, stealing and stalking. Bwahahahahaha! I'm good, I'm really good.
And to think, he never figured out it was me. What a dumb shit. He probably has avoided coming to that conclusion out of some kind of misplaced feeling of friendship for me. I'm so good. Not only do I provoke paranoia, I provoke denial as well. The dumb shit even used me as a reference. Hah, hah, hah!!!! I'm so good, so very good.
And I have my boss wrapped around my finger. He knows what I've been up to, but I'm useful, so very useful to him and if he ever fires me, well then I can just expose his knowledge and assistance to his many harassment operations against his enemies. I do love power, oh yes I do.
Everyone thinks I'm so sweet and nice. They can't see through it, but deep inside there is no one I love more than myself. Well, I do love my two daughters too. I hope I didn't go overboard when I told everyone at work that having daughter is like being in love with several women at the same time. They might take it wrong, or right. My God, did I fuck up? No, I don't think so, if I did I would know by now. Anyway, I just said those things to see how my target would respond. Unfortunately, it didn't work so I found other ways to smear him.
I even have his computer, right here in front of me. That moron allowed Windows to cache his passwords. Now I have complete access to his email. I know everything about him. I can even log on as him and write articles threatening Bush in his name, from his account!!! I'm so good. Bwahahahaha!
I love myself. I wish I could give myself one big hug....
"Stefano, snap out of it!" said a voice at the door. "Someone delivered a package for you."