4 AM Flow

This is my issue with economics as it stands for us, the retail whores who wake and sleep at the beckon call of fat cat jerks that think that they own everything because they have a salaried job in a crap hole department store.

It all begins at the source. The president of a company tells his underlings that his analysts have reported that a computer told them that a certain point in the store is lacking. The president informs the underlings that the stats need to raise 3 points. Now, these underlings have received their status by removing the space between their shoulders and their employers fat posterior, thus making them come to a dire conclusion.
"Say," says underling rat bastard number one, "I know that the president told us that we needed to raise this stat by 3 points."
"Definitely," Mindless drone underling number 2 replies, all the while sizing up his new rectum neck warmer in practice for his new raise.
"But, if we were to say that the president, praise his name, were to request 6 points to an underling of ours, it would look better for us in general without any work on our part."
"assuming," piped in number 3 "that they would agree to working for 6 points."
The other two look at number 3 and chuckle to themselves in a dramatically ironic manner. number 3 worked himself up the head to butt ladder only recently and was unwise to the ways of the retailers cult.
"3, man, you are new here and we'll cut you some slack" number one replies.
"yea, man lighten up" number two adds in. "and anyway, we don't expect anymore than 5 points."
"I don't understand" 3 replies.
"When they fail to provide the 6 points for us, we still have 2 more points et gratis and we can give our underlings an unsatisfactory grade." number 1 begins to tighten a belt around his neck to warm up for a tight sphincter of the presidents excretory system.
"So we don't have to pay them anymore than we do anyway," 2 replies, while considering the prospect of jimmying a shoulder into a tight space.
The decree was made to the underlings underneath the underlings under the president of the retail corporation.
"Say," says underling underling number 1, "I know that the men upstairs told us that we needed to raise this stat by 6 points."
"Definately," Underling underling number 2 replies, all the while sizing up his new rectum neck warmer in practice for his new promotion to butt plug of the president...

This perpetuates itself into a massive accumulation of proposed points that eventually trickle down to the president's underling's underling's underling's underling's underling's underling's underling's underling's underling's underling;s underlings employees.
"Alright my little work whores... I mean horses. We need to increase our points in this area by 2,000,000 points."
We the meager workers of the retail trade do the impossible and with sacrifice of our personal lives, health, and guilt free conciseness, we manage to muster 5,000,000 points. which raises the salaries and positions off all of the underlings above us. Since the biggest slice of the new revenue will be going to the screwed up Christmas tree of soulless corporate colon divers, we the meager who woke up at four in the morning opening boxes and running machinery until two in the afternoon are told by our employers that "I'm sorry, but we can't give you a raise. The company cannot afford to give you a raise on the account that you have so much overtime."
All ready, we can see this guy grabbing the rubber bands from the couches that we unloaded with the sweat off of our backs and puts them around his head in preparation for the day when he too can be a hemorrhoid in the CEO's pooper.
We at the bottom have no chance. but we do what we must.