Lester's Head

Lester's Head, the web site, was a place where people would go to vent -- to rant and rage in the safety of their own homes. The site had all the bells and whistles and the latest technological wizardry. But in actuality, Lester's Head was really nothing more than a place to be heard. It was the modern day confessional. People flocked to it in droves, seeking solace from their stressful lives. Many turned to Lester's Head instead of talking with a therapist, close friend, or gossiping around the office water cooler.

The name was a marketing ploy dreamed up by Laura Lynn Myers, Vice President of Marketing. "Lester's Head", she had said to herself, "was fitting glory for rich, egocentric Lester Franklin. He'll think he's been crowned. But, more important, the public will have a personal attachment. They'll be lured in, just where we want 'em."

* * *

At 5 A.M. Lester paced back and forth in his study as he waited for Laura Lynn. He stared at the orange and blue flames that leapt violently across the burning logs. The flames matched the fury within him. His cheeks were flushed and his palms were sweaty. As he paced he noticed that one spot in the carpet was starting to wear thin from his predawn pacing vigil. He could not stand it. He had to know who had turned on him.

He heard the door open and looked up to see Laura Lynn walk into the study. She wore a long, gray sweatshirt over tight black leggings. Her long blonde hair was gelled back over her forehead. The deep shadows under her crystal blue eyes told of numerous late nights.

She asked in a patronizing tone, "What can't possibly wait 'til 8 a.m.?"

"If I call, you jump. No more questions, I'm fucking pissed."

He looked at her sexy legs as she pouted her lips in way that looked as if she was waiting to be kissed. He said, "What, now that I've seen you naked, did you think things would change?"

She said in a persistent tone, "I want a personal life."

He growled, "Fat chance. You know the 'dot com' grind."

She offered the only bargaining chip she thought she had. "Then, no more quickies. Only business."

"Fine," he said in a frustrated tone, "Tell me who's leaking the news and fire the disloyal bastard immediately."

"Can't."

"What, afraid of firing someone? You're weak, spineless... Fire the asshole."

"Forget about it. The leaks got us coverage on the major network TV stations plus all the net pubs."

"No way. You know damn well about the non-disclosure contract. Someone violated it -- that's grounds for dismissal. I run a tight ship. Without loyalty, the ship sinks."

She licked her lips, rubbed her shoulders in a sexy way, hoping the seductive display would soften the impact of what she was about to reveal -- "I did it... I thought it was a great tactic that would generate excitement, boost viewership, and lead to more advertising revenue. I was right. Look at our viewership... Twenty million viewers this month alone--"

"Your fucking marketing ploy went against me," he screamed as the veins on his forehead and neck bulged. "You disloyal bitch, you're fired! Get the fuck outa here."

Laura Lynn picked up her things and walked sullenly to the front door. She opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.

* * *