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fandomweekly2023-09-01 09:29 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in fandomweekly2023-09-01 09:29 am
Entry tags:
[#183] Send Out the Call and Join the Fray (Original)
Theme Prompt: #183 - Revolution
Title: Send Out the Call and Join the Fray
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 949
Summary: Bill has a proposition for Betty.
Bill is looking particularly … stressed today.
Betty usually tries to ignore Bill during working hours. Not that she doesn’t like him, exactly. She’s sure that he’s a perfectly nice man. But work is work and Betty isn’t here to make friends. She’s here to come in, do her job, and leave. This job doesn’t pay her enough to become invested in making personal connections and there’s always too much on her plate to socialize, anyway.
Honestly, most of the time, Bill is okay with that. He has too much on his plate to socialize too. But today, he’s staring across the narrow hallway in their cubicle farm, aggressively flexing his hand around a stress ball. His gaze bores into her shoulder like lasers and while for a long time she resists getting involved, eventually she has to turn around and sigh.
“What, Bill?”
“We want you to join the revolution.”
Betty blinks, doing her best to process that statement. When she still can’t wrap her head around the implications of that statement, she blinks. “…What?”
“The revolution.” He gestures to the space above his head. “The entire floor. We’re standing up to the man.”
“The man?”
“Mangement.”
She takes a deep breath and exhales, trying not to take on any of the stress Bill is attempting to put on her shoulders. “Bill, you can’t go to war against management.”
“Sure you can. Haven’t you ever seen Newsies?”
“The Disney movie about paperboys in the eighteen hundreds?”
“1899, actually.”
“Bill.” Betty takes a breath and turns in her seat to face him. “I’m pretty sure that movie is fictional.”
“It’s not. Newsboys strike of 1899. Look it up.”
“Alright, fine, but we aren’t newsboys, so I’m not entirely sure how this applies to us.”
Bill takes a deep breath before leaning back in his seat. “A strike, Betty. I’m saying that we strike.”
“We need a union to have a strike.”
“We could make a union. We’re a union just by saying we’re a union.”
“I do not think that’s how that works.”
“That’s now it worked in the movie.”
“Yes. Because Disney adaptations of real-life events are just bastions of factual accuracy. Also, that was 1899. I’m pretty sure things have changed since then.”
Bill huffs, turning away from her to face his computer again. “We can’t do this alone, Betty. This would stand a much larger chance of working if we were all standing together. Don’t you want things to be better around here?”
She can’t deny that things could stand to be a little less shitty. But she also has responsibilities, bills to pay, and a shit ton of student loans for a degree that she’s clearly putting to great use in this dead-end job. “Maybe. But I can’t afford to get fired because a guy using a 1992 musical as a source haphazardly tried to get the office to unionize.” Betty does the same, turning her attention to the pile of work in front of her. “Do some actual research about what it takes to run a union and come back to me with something legally binding and maybe I’ll change my mind.”
“For real?”
“What?” Betty blinks.
“You said if I come to you with something legally binding, you’ll change your mind.”
“Maybe. I said maybe I’ll change my mind.”
“Maybe’s not no.” He flashes her a grin that could almost be charming if he wasn’t being irritating. “Alright, bet.”
She does not know what that’s supposed to mean, but he leaves her in peace to do her work, and really, that’s all she can ask at this point.
* * * * *
When Morton calls her into his office later that week, she immediately knows that something’s wrong. Morton is the type of boss that tries to be as hand-off as possible, and doesn’t have a face-to-face conversation about something that could easily be an email. Still, when he says jump, you jump, and Betty tries to swallow the dread in the pit of her stomach as she knocks lightly on the door frame.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Betty. Yes. Come in and close the door.” She does as she’s told, and he leans back in his seat, folding his fingers across the front of his chest. “You sit next to Bill, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“We’ve been hearing some … disquieting rumors. That Bill might try to drum up some unrest in the office.” Morton tips his head to the side as he watches her. “We heard that you two might have been talking about unionizing the other day?”
Betty falls silent for a moment, before trying to stick as close to the truth as possible. “We were talking about Newsies.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The 1992 Disney classic? Young Christian Bale sings and dances his way to success against the evils of Big News in a musical retelling of the 1899 Newsboy Strike?” She has looked up the source material for Newsies since then and turns out Bill is right. It was a real thing that happened.
“…Oh.”
“Yep.”
“Are you sure there wasn’t anything else involved in that conversation?”
“Nope. Not that I can recall.”
Morton stares her down, eyes firm, but to her credit, Betty doesn’t flinch. She’s been in this dead-end job too long to flinch in the face of management. After a long silence, he concedes and pushes back from the table. “Fine. But if you hear something concerning, let us know, won’t you?”
She offers a small smile as he walks her out of his office, but doesn’t confirm. She might not be fully on board with this union business yet. But she’s no scab, either.
Title: Send Out the Call and Join the Fray
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 949
Summary: Bill has a proposition for Betty.
Bill is looking particularly … stressed today.
Betty usually tries to ignore Bill during working hours. Not that she doesn’t like him, exactly. She’s sure that he’s a perfectly nice man. But work is work and Betty isn’t here to make friends. She’s here to come in, do her job, and leave. This job doesn’t pay her enough to become invested in making personal connections and there’s always too much on her plate to socialize, anyway.
Honestly, most of the time, Bill is okay with that. He has too much on his plate to socialize too. But today, he’s staring across the narrow hallway in their cubicle farm, aggressively flexing his hand around a stress ball. His gaze bores into her shoulder like lasers and while for a long time she resists getting involved, eventually she has to turn around and sigh.
“What, Bill?”
“We want you to join the revolution.”
Betty blinks, doing her best to process that statement. When she still can’t wrap her head around the implications of that statement, she blinks. “…What?”
“The revolution.” He gestures to the space above his head. “The entire floor. We’re standing up to the man.”
“The man?”
“Mangement.”
She takes a deep breath and exhales, trying not to take on any of the stress Bill is attempting to put on her shoulders. “Bill, you can’t go to war against management.”
“Sure you can. Haven’t you ever seen Newsies?”
“The Disney movie about paperboys in the eighteen hundreds?”
“1899, actually.”
“Bill.” Betty takes a breath and turns in her seat to face him. “I’m pretty sure that movie is fictional.”
“It’s not. Newsboys strike of 1899. Look it up.”
“Alright, fine, but we aren’t newsboys, so I’m not entirely sure how this applies to us.”
Bill takes a deep breath before leaning back in his seat. “A strike, Betty. I’m saying that we strike.”
“We need a union to have a strike.”
“We could make a union. We’re a union just by saying we’re a union.”
“I do not think that’s how that works.”
“That’s now it worked in the movie.”
“Yes. Because Disney adaptations of real-life events are just bastions of factual accuracy. Also, that was 1899. I’m pretty sure things have changed since then.”
Bill huffs, turning away from her to face his computer again. “We can’t do this alone, Betty. This would stand a much larger chance of working if we were all standing together. Don’t you want things to be better around here?”
She can’t deny that things could stand to be a little less shitty. But she also has responsibilities, bills to pay, and a shit ton of student loans for a degree that she’s clearly putting to great use in this dead-end job. “Maybe. But I can’t afford to get fired because a guy using a 1992 musical as a source haphazardly tried to get the office to unionize.” Betty does the same, turning her attention to the pile of work in front of her. “Do some actual research about what it takes to run a union and come back to me with something legally binding and maybe I’ll change my mind.”
“For real?”
“What?” Betty blinks.
“You said if I come to you with something legally binding, you’ll change your mind.”
“Maybe. I said maybe I’ll change my mind.”
“Maybe’s not no.” He flashes her a grin that could almost be charming if he wasn’t being irritating. “Alright, bet.”
She does not know what that’s supposed to mean, but he leaves her in peace to do her work, and really, that’s all she can ask at this point.
When Morton calls her into his office later that week, she immediately knows that something’s wrong. Morton is the type of boss that tries to be as hand-off as possible, and doesn’t have a face-to-face conversation about something that could easily be an email. Still, when he says jump, you jump, and Betty tries to swallow the dread in the pit of her stomach as she knocks lightly on the door frame.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Betty. Yes. Come in and close the door.” She does as she’s told, and he leans back in his seat, folding his fingers across the front of his chest. “You sit next to Bill, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“We’ve been hearing some … disquieting rumors. That Bill might try to drum up some unrest in the office.” Morton tips his head to the side as he watches her. “We heard that you two might have been talking about unionizing the other day?”
Betty falls silent for a moment, before trying to stick as close to the truth as possible. “We were talking about Newsies.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The 1992 Disney classic? Young Christian Bale sings and dances his way to success against the evils of Big News in a musical retelling of the 1899 Newsboy Strike?” She has looked up the source material for Newsies since then and turns out Bill is right. It was a real thing that happened.
“…Oh.”
“Yep.”
“Are you sure there wasn’t anything else involved in that conversation?”
“Nope. Not that I can recall.”
Morton stares her down, eyes firm, but to her credit, Betty doesn’t flinch. She’s been in this dead-end job too long to flinch in the face of management. After a long silence, he concedes and pushes back from the table. “Fine. But if you hear something concerning, let us know, won’t you?”
She offers a small smile as he walks her out of his office, but doesn’t confirm. She might not be fully on board with this union business yet. But she’s no scab, either.