Edwin Windsor leans back in his chair. His long form is all angles and ease. Well over seven feet of him stretches from immaculately polished wingtip to slightly loosened tie. At the end of this day, he displays the rumpled elegance of a man who is perfectly at ease in a suit. Examining his face, one might mistake him for a serene mystic of the East. Except for a wrinkle that surfaces between his eyebrows.
This is frustration. Client-induced frustration. Deep inside him, Edwin believes that his life would be perfect if not for his clients. But, unfortunately for Mr. Windsor, his life is his clients. He is a most unusual kind of consultant. In all their myriad shapes and forms, consultants are a kind of parasite. At best symbiotic, but in all cases, useless without a host.
Even though he knows it is hopeless, he must try again. He interrupts the flow of babble that has engulfed him.
“So, Dr. Loeb,” he says, “tell me about your business plan?”
Blood rushes to Dr. Loeb’s shaven head. He is wearing a Neru jacket that is a little too small. The collar seems to prevent the blood from returning to his torso. It festers and turns purple. Edwin thinks that Dr. Loeb’s head resembles an obscene Christmas tree bulb. Perhaps he will have an aneurysm. This thought does not alarm Edwin. But, if it has to happen, Edwin would prefer for it to happen outside of his office. Just when the pressure seems to reach intolerable levels, Dr. Loeb releases it by screaming, “WORLD DOMINATION!”
Dr. Loeb’s face returns to a more reasonable shade. Now Edwin has a ringing in his ears. In an effort to clear some of the insanity from the room, he says, “That’s really more of a goal than a plan.”
“DOMINATION! DOMINATION! DOMINATION!”
Clearly, Dr. Loeb is insane. All of Edwin’s clients are insane. But not all of them are so obnoxious about it. Edwin tries to appease the man, in the hopes that this interview might end sooner. “I’ll just put down Mergers and Acquisitions,” he says as he pretends to scribble something on a pad.
“Ja, JA. Acquisitions! I will overtake ze vorld. And if you help me mit my endeavoring, I vill grant to you a small island as your revard. Say Aftsralia. Muhahahahahaha HAHA AHHAHAHAHAHAH!”
As the laughter continues, the wrinkle of frustration digs deeper into Edwin’s forehead. Australia? How insulting. Edwin’s standard arrangement is 35% of the post-laundered gross. Edwin is not in the real estate business. And even if he was, Edwin knows that Australia is a mere 5% of the Earth’s surface. Australia is not enough. To say nothing of the fact that Edwin does not keep score in yards. He keeps score in dollars. 35% of the world’s wealth, that is a goal.
Most importantly, taking over the world is an impossibility. The foolish conceit of a deluded mind. But his clients never seem to understand this. The less equipped they were to control themselves, the more they wanted to control the world. Why not start with an small island? A city block? An apartment building? One’s own temper?
Edwin knows that a reasonable goals are not buildings levelled, damsels abducted or heroes taunted — these are not the ends. They are means. The end is wealth. For lack of a better term, money. If a person has power or abilities, and that person is willing to live by their own moral code, then Edwin can help them. But this creature? This Dr. Loeb? All he seems to have is a shaved head and a formidable command of the cliches of villainy. This is a colossal waste of Edwin’s time.
Sensing that Edwin’s attention has wandered. Dr. Loeb shouts “AUSFSTRALIA!” again. He gargles on the word. Edwin flicks his eyes to Dr. Loeb. What is this obsession with land? True, it is the only thing they’re not making any more of. But time — time is the only thing you can’t buy. Edwin wonders why he is wasting his time with this idiot. One more try, he thinks, and then I will be done.
“Why are you yelling?,” Edwin asks.
“I’m excited.”
“Please try to control yourself.”
“Vell, I, ja, okay.”
“Now, I am also excited. Because if you are this excited, you must have a wonderful plan — a brilliant idea with which to take over the world. Please, tell me what it is, so I can help you.”
“I have plans for a giant Laser.”
Please, don’t say, in space, Edwin thinks. Anything but another giant laser in space scheme.
“A giant laser!” cries Dr. Loeb. His eyes dart from one side of the room to another, looking for those who would steal his secret and sinister plan. Seeing that the coast is clear, he bellows “IN SPACE!” Once again, maniacal laughter.
Edwin rubs the bridge of his nose and waits.
“You’re not laughing,” says Dr. Loeb.
“That is correct. I am not laughing.”
“But why? Do you not see the beauty of my sinister plan? Is it not unstoppable?”
“Unstoppable?” Edwin asks. “It’s unstartable.” Edwin gets up, buttons his suit jacket and walks from the room. He has decided that Dr. Loeb is the ultimate waste of time. A sunk cost. A waste so wasteful, so irredeemable, the only rational thing to do is to make future decisions as if Dr. Loeb had never existed.
“You’re coming back, right? I mean, ja?”