What goes around, comes around.
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
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