,

Offin' Office Max

Herbert Kornfeld (Accounts Receivable Supervisor)

Yo, this is a message foe all y’all wack muthafuckas at Office Depot: Step tha FUCK OFF, lest y’all wanna brawl wit’ tha H-Dog an’ tha rest of tha Midstate Office Supply krew. ’Cuz if it come to that, shit ain’t gonna be pretty. Tha H-Dog and his Midstate ballers will WASTE yo’ sorry li’l red-polo-shirted asses. Word is bond.

Y’all wuz warned to stay tha fuck off Midstate’s turf. Midstate be in this ’hood foe near 40 years, servin’ tha community an’ buildin’ a loyal customah base, an’ it don’t take kindly to no new-jack pretendas. So whatchy’all do? Y’all open a new store on Sherman Avenue in tha space where tha Kmart wuz befoe they fuck up an’ go bankrupt. Y’all be braggin’ in yo’ muthafuckin’ Sunday insertz, if all y’all shoppaz can find a lower advertised price on office supplies, Office Depot will match it. If that ain’t groundz foe muthafukkkin’ war, I dunno what is.

But if all y’all Office Depot suckas think Midstate be runnin’ scared, you sadly mistaken. Lemme tell you a little story ’bout some wack playa hatas called Office Max who tried to move in on Midstate’s turf a coupla years ago.

Peep this:

When Office Max roll into town, most of tha Midstate krew be buggin’. Office Max be a big ol’ nizational chain, and Midstate only regional. Everybody talkin’ ’bout how they got lower prices than us thankz to they size. You know, lower ovahead due to economiez of scale and shit. Our office comptrolla Gerald Luckenbill send out a memo to all tha department headz sayin’ that we best start thinkin’ ’bout some ways to stay competitive an’ retain our customa base, lest Office Max start makin’ off wit’ our benjamins.

So, one aftanoon, all us Midstate supavisas get called in foe this Big Willie interdepartmental meeting. This meeting so important, even tha vice-president, Howard Dinwiddie, be there. Everybody startz prezentin’ Dinwiddie wit’ suggestions on wayz to deal wit’ tha Office Max sizituation. Our marketin’ supervisa, Cheryl Stover, she say we oughta build up our mail-order division, ’cuz she think we can break out of our region and make our customa base all national an’ shit wit’ catalog sales. Fuckin’ Bob Cowan from Human Resources propose some weak-ass plan to improve customa service. He bring this ovahead projector in an’ show us a buncha transparencies wit’ muthafukkkin’ acronyms on ’em, where every letter stand for some motivational bullshit thass s’posed to make tha Midstate posse practically wanna suck tha customahs’ dicks. Took every inch o’ tha H-Kool not to cut Cowan wit’ tha L.O.D. Then, Accountz Payabo supervisa Myron Schabe say somethin’, but no one remember what he say ’cuz tha ol’ fool put everybody to sleep.

Me, I don’t say nothin’ tha whole time. Afta tha meetin’, Dinwiddie aks me why, ’cuz he know I tha stone-col’ superbaddest employee at Midstate. “Listen, Dinwiddie,” I say. “Fuck that bullshit ’bout expandin’ this and improvin’ that. Tha problem ain’t us, it be Office Max. You want Office Max outta tha picture? Let H-Dog take care of it. Don’t aks no questions, just let me take care of it.”

Dinwiddie don’t say nuthin. He just clasp my shoulder an’ smile befoe walkin’ away. Dinwiddie ain’t dumb. He knew mah skeelz as a enforca be legendary. I wuz mad grateful foe his trust, so much so that I chose not to fade his ass foe touchin’ me.

Bringin’ down Office Max wuzn’t easy, but I did it. It wuz some o’ tha hardest shit I ever had to do. I wuz livin’ a double life, splittin’ my time between Midstate an’ tha Max. Tha three months I spent undacova as a O.M. cashier an’ stocker could be a novel in an’ of itself, mah homeys.

To fit in, I had to drop mah mad lyrical flow an’ talk like a ordinary sucka. “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” “Do you need assistance getting that to your car, ma’am?” “Will that be cash or charge?” “Thanks for shopping at Office Max, and have a great day.” DAMN. I don’t know how all y’all can talk like that. S’pitiful. Guess I shouldn’t bitch, though, since that shit got me two Office Max employee-of-tha-month plaques an’, eventually, tha assistant-managa position that wuz my ticket straight into tha belly o’ tha beast.

Now, unfortunately, I can’t tell you exactly what I did, ’cuz a lotta what went down still be classified info, know what I’m sayin’? When tha secret H-Dog Archives be open to tha public 25 yearz afta my death, all y’all will learn tha real 411, straight up. Foe now, I can only say that thankz to me, to this day, tha top brass at Office Max can’t take a piss without lookin’ ova they shoulder. I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ that could incriminate me, but they never did figga out who uncapped all tha highlighta pens in stock. Or how tha wetlandz five miles north o’ tha store got contaminitated wit’ copier toner. (Suckas settled outta court wit tha EPA foe a undisclosed sum. Huh.) Or why some lucky shoppas found some Hewlett-Packard CP1160 color inkjet printers foe tha bargain price of $2.99, marked down from $299.99. A simple accountin’ error, but that sorta shit eat into a profit margin real fast.

Long story short, ain’t no Office Maxxin’ at that space no mo’. They wuz replaced by Petco, some wack pet-food supastore, an’ they ain’t shown they face in tha ’hood since.

I ain’t sayin’ Office Depot will go down tha same way as Office Max. But y’all best not bring any of that “we won’t be undasold” shit round here. ’Cuz if you do, befoe long, y’all won’t have nothin’ to undasell.

No use gettin’ yo’ guard up neither, ’cuz tha Midstate avengas will strike where you least expect it. Maybe all y’all cash registas suddenly start spittin’ up they detail tape smack in tha middle of transactions, and they can’t be stopped, know what I’m sayin’? Or maybe yo’ customas be mad vexed that they can’t find nothin’, ’cuz somebody rearrange all tha signs hangin’ ova tha aisles.

Thass just a taste of tha world o’ hurt y’all gots in store if y’all persist wit yo’ “unbeatable savings, selection, and service” bullshit. Only thing that be unbeatable be Midstate, an’ it gonna stay that way, you wack muthafukkkas.

Y’all wanna fuck wit’ Midstate Office Supply? If you do, you betta bring yo’ A-game, ’cuz H-Dog ready to ball. Know what I’m sayin’?

H-Dog OUT.

Prior to his death on April 30th, 2007, Herbert Kornfeld wrote about workplace issues for The Onion. He worked as the Accounts Receivable Supervisor at Midstate Office Supply, the state’s oldest wholesaler and retailer of office supplies and business machines.