Parksie despised weekday mornings. Once he’d overcome the urban assault course that led to work, he had to deal with work itself. “Mornings are prime selling time,” he’d been told when he started. Well, not for him they weren’t. He’d fallen into sales like a man who slips through a trap door. Shaken and bruised, he carried on plodding through each day, hoping for that bit of magic that would make him a player. It had been over a 9 months and he was still waiting.
The day he first met her the alarm clock sabotaged his morning routine by failing to go off. Making up some time by sacrificing a proper wash for a deodorant shower, Parksie had clawed back even more seconds by sprinting to the tube. An uncharacteristically punctual train meant that by the time he emerged from the mouth of the station he still had time, if he were quick, to get some breakfast.
“Big coffee and a bacon sandwich with brown sauce please,” he said, sweat dribbling down his nose as he watched the hands of grease-smeared clock above Pedro’s wrinkled head.
“Big coffee and what?“
He repeated the order, emphasising each syllable. The old man nodded and pottered towards the coffee machine. He reminded Parksie of a tortoise without its shell. He was sure Pedro creaked when he eventually handed over a styrofoam cup and bag. Thanking him Parksie snatched them and burst through the small knot of customers blocking the door.
The streets built in less hectic time were too narrow to contain the activity that filled them. The pavements choked with people marching in every direction. Parksie followed a gang of suits striding towards his office.
“Excuse me Sir can you spare any change?”
He looked down. A kid sitting cross-legged on a piece of dirty cardboard smiled back at him. His teeth were the colour of wood.
Parksie dug his hand into his pocket but found only air.
“ Sorry, I haven’t got any.”
He started to walk away when the scent of fried bacon invaded his nostrils. Pedro always cut his sandwich into two perfectly even triangles. Parksie pulled one out the bags and handed it to the kid.
“Nice one! Cheers mate” he said catching a blob of brown sauce on nicotine stained finger.
Parksie nodded and set off at a jog. His office was only a couple of streets away and his watch said he might still make it.
“ Afternoon Mr Parks”
Parksie smirked at Skinner as he slumped into the comforting embrace of his chair.
“Do you have a late gene? Is it genetically impossible for you to be on time?” Skinner said leaning forward on angular elbows.
“ District line is screwed up.”
Not that it’s any of your business Parksie thought. He leant back in his chair to get away from Skinners glare. When he bobbled about on the other side of the desk like that it made Parksie think of a Punch and Judy show, Mr Punch in a suit. Parksie had always hated that puppet. It wasn’t just that he was ugly and had an annoying squeaky voice but he always found it offensive that he beat the shit out of Judy.
“Jenny managed to make it here on time and she uses the district line,” Skinner said.
Jenny looked over at Parksie as he opened his coffee. With her big teeth and freckles she looked like a baby giraffe. He unwrapped the rest of his sandwich and took a deep breath savouring the aroma.
“Still had time to get some breakfast?”
“ I need to eat.”
“ I would of thought you could survive without food on your blubber.”
Jenny giggled. Parksie ignored them and turned his PC on before filling his mouth with sandwich. His head ached already. It was the office. He didn’t understand why it was necessary to create an atmosphere that made you feel liking your were sitting amidst the working of a car engine. In his opinion the morning chorus of chirping phones, clicking keyboards and yapping voices wasn’t conducive to productivity. “If you wanted peace and quiet you should have got a job in a morgue!” Skinner had said to him when Parksie pointed out that in Japan the working morning started off with quiet meditation.
“You have about thirty seconds to eat that if you don’t want to be late for the meeting,” Skinner shouted. He stood up, pulled the huge knot on his tie tighter and tapped a long finger against a fake leather diary embossed with his initials. “ Hope you didn’t forget slackboy.”
“ Of course I didn’t forget,” Parksie said, having no idea what Skinner was talking about. He waited for Skinner and Jenny to walk off before opening his diary. There next to an intricate doodle that looked a bit like a Picasso was a note written in red ink. “ Don’t forget new boss meeting in board room.” He stuffed the rest of the sandwich in his mouth causing brown sauce to dribble down his chin and jogged to the lift.
Parksie liked the boardroom. It’s huge windows overlooking the city made you feel as if you were riding a magic carpet. Scattered around a long oval table were orange and purple chairs that he thought looked like that had been stolen off the set of Blue Peter. Skinner had a seat between Jenny and Carey, a bloke from Accounts Parksie sometimes saw on the train frowning at the Times crossword. On a vast plasma screen that covered one wall were the words “IPB Welcomes Rebecca Black”. Parksie studied the screen wondering what it would be like to play Unreal Tournament on something that big.
“Hello Ladies and Gentleman, good to see you all looking so sharp this Monday morning.”
Parksie stood to attention. Garth Garett gave him the fear. It wasn’t for nothing he was known as Garth Vader. In the 9 months since he’d joined the company he’d managed to avoid the MD on all accept one occasion. He’d been stepping up to the urinal when Vader’s shadow had descended upon him. Parksie had seen his figure from the corner of his eye and froze. No matter how much he concentrated he couldn’t go despite Vader letting forth with a torrent like a burst fire hydrant. Parksie had gone for plan B. Letting out a satisfied sigh and giving himself a little shake he’d done his zip up washed his hands and strode out. He tried to convince himself he had pulled it off but secretly he feared Vader now questioned his sexuality.
“As you all know today we have a new division head joining us. We’ve managed to tempt her away from our beloved friends at Kirk Peters…”
A cheer broke out at this perceived bettering of their competitor. Skinner leading the chorus like some hooligan on a football terrace. Parksie opened his mouth but didn’t bother making any sound. Vader smiled and gestured for silence.
“I won’t keep you from her any longer as I’m sure you’re as eager to meet her as she is to meet you.”
Rebecca Black strutted out of a side door and stood before them with her hands on her hips. The room drained of sound. She had a shock of red hair that reminded Parksie of the punk girls he used to see as a kid and long leather boots that made him think of fox hunting. It was an interesting combo. She looked around the room, her gaze touching each person one at a time. When she reached Parksie she stopped and smiled, before moving on. He looked down consumed by the fear that his flies were undone and then let out sigh when he saw they weren’t.
“Good morning Everyone,” Rebecca said.
“Good Morning,” they all replied, making Parksie think of school assemblies.
“I’m Rebecca Black and as of today I’m your new Sales Director. At the moment you all have an advantage over me. You know who I am but I don’t know who you are. That is something I intend to change. By the end of this week I will have met every single one of you.”
Parksie stifled a groan.

“Your not very good are you Jonathan”
Parksie cringed. He knew he wasn’t very good but he hated it when people called him by his full name.
“I’m having a bit of a bad month,” he said shuffling in his chair.
Rebecca traced a finger capped with a dangerous looking red nail down the excel spreadsheet laid out before her. “And what about the month before that and the month before that and …need I go on?”
“It been a tough time, my clients have been cutting their spend,” Parksie said. His clients had been giving excuses that were a variation on a theme, the theme being no.
“They have been cutting their spend with you,” Rebecca said pulling out a copy of Kirk Peters magazine Car World. “ But not it seems with anyone else.” She opened the magazine to a double page spread advertising Skoda, Parksie's main client.
“I’ll say it again. Your not very good are you Jonathan. Now you have two choices. Either the door or more,” she paused. “But let me warn you before you make your decision, what the more option involves. I have a reputation of taking my staffs poorest performer and transforming them into a sales demon. If you decide against the door then you will be our poorest performer.
Parksie considered the options. He couldn’t afford the door, not with an overdraft as large as the GDP of a small South American country. So, more it was and what the hell he thought Sales Demon has a nice ring to it.
“I’ll take the tough choice,” he said.
Rebecca drummed her nails on the desk and smiled.
“I employ unorthodox methods, but I have a 100% success rate. What you need to do, in return for this transformation, is to give yourself to me, heart and soul. Is that to much to ask?”
Parksie shook his head. “Sounds fair enough. Do I get extra training then?”
“No, you need constant attention, but first lets shake on our agreement.”
“Shake?”
“Yes Jonathan we are making a deal aren’t we?”
Parksie took her hand and shook. It felt like he shaking hands with someone dressed in armour.
“Be here at 8am on the dot tomorrow morning.”
As he strolled back to his desk Parksie was surprised to fell a new sense of purpose coursing through his body. The early start would be a bit of a killer but if Rebecca was successful as she claimed it might just be worth the pain.
“Get binned yet Parksie,” Skinner shouted at him across the office.
He ignored him and sat down.
“Or has Rebecca made demoted you to tea boy,” Skinner continued.
“I don’t think so. Things haven’t been going exactly as planned over the last couple of weeks but Rebecca was confident that I could turn things around,” Parksie said.
“Well, when you haven’t sold anything in six month, the only way is up”
Jenny laughed. Parskie wondered if she had come so conditioned by Skinner that she just reacted to his voice like a one those high tech Japanese doll’s.

“You’re late,” Rebecca said.
Parksie looked at his watch. It was no more than one minute past eight.
“If you’re late tomorrow I’ll sack you,” She said without looking up.
Parksie mumbled an apology. Rebecca held out her hand her fingers pointing at his heart.
“Shake it,” she said.
Parksie as he was asked. Her grip shocked him, it’s cold intensify giving him a jolt.
“Everyday we will shake hands to reaffirm our contract.”
Parksie wondered if this were part of some new cutting edge American motivational technique.
“How long will we be meeting up?” he asked.
Rebecca leant forward her eyes holding his. For one horrible second he thought she might climb onto her desk and slap him.
“As long as necessary, ” she said and swivelled her laptop around.
A blood red slide had the words "The making of a Sales Demon: Lesson 1".
“Sit back and just watch, no questions. Just relax and soak up what you see” Rebecca said and pressed a key to start the PowerPoint presentation.
An hour later Parksie left Rebecca’s office and sprinted to his desk. The noise of business put a spring in his stride. The interaction of people, the buzz of money being created out of thin air it excited him and he wanted a part of it. He was hungry not for a bacon butty but for a sale.
“Here he comes, the slack king of slackland, “ Skinner shouted in greeting. Jenny’s spurted with laughter.
“Shut it Skinner,” Parksie said “and you can close your hole as well.”
Jenny froze, stared at Parksie, and then looked at Skinner before turning her attention to the yellow square of her monitor.
“Whooh, listen to him!” Skinner wailed.
Parksie leant across the partition that separated them and said with slow deliberation, loving each word. “I said shut it.”
Skinner said nothing. Three hours later Parksie closed his first deal in a month.

“Orange juice and yoghurt, Pedro.”
“What’s got into you Mr Parks?” Pedro said, a frown decorating his forehead.
“Just get it please Pedro,” Parksie said. He was eager to get in. It was the last sales day of the month and he had a whole rack of prospects to close. Pedro potted over to the fridge.
“Is there any danger of you picking up the pace,” Parksie shouted causing some of the other customers to look in his direction. Parksie glared back at them. Pedro flushed by his attempt at speed dropped Parksie's breakfast onto the counter. Parksie snatched up the bag, threw the coins on the table and strode out of the shop.
“Spare some change for a cup of tea mate?” a voice croaked from the pavement.
Parksie sighed. “One, I’m not now nor will I ever be your mate and two why don’t you try getting a job and paying for your own cup of tea like the rest of humanity.”
The kid shrivelled up like a deflated balloon and retreated into the folds of his battered anorak.
In the lift up to his floor Parksie got his mobile out, turned on the calculator function and started working out how much commission he’d get if he could land all his deals before the end of the day. On the second floor the lift stopped. With a soft hiss the door slide open. Garth stood waiting, hands on hips. Parksie shifted to one side to let him in.
“Morning Garth, “ Parksie said.
“Morning, “ Garth replied looking him up and down. “Good to see someone in bright and early on a Friday,”
The lift chimed announcing their arrival on the fourth floor.
“Lots of business to bring in today, “Parksie said holding his gaze.
“Good effort…”
“Jonathan,” Parksie said.
The doors slide open.
“Good effort Jonathan, keep it up.”
When the doors closed Parksie gave his distorted reflection a smile and a wink.

“So for the second month running your are our top performer Jonathan ” Rebecca said. “How does it feel?”
Parksie couldn’t deny it felt good. Before Rebecca arrived he’d never really had much of a passion for work. If he was honest he thought that selling advertising space was all a bit pointless. Now that had changed. Now he saw the magic of conjuring money out of thin air. Ever since his daily morning sessions had started the hunger had grown inside him. At first it was just a nagging thing tugging at his mind like a forgotten name but now after two months it consumed him. Initially he didn’t know what to call it, but as it grew in strength it became more obvious. Eventually it screamed its name like a spoilt child demanding attention and its name was greed.
“I love it,” he said and meant it.
“Good, that’s all I needed to hear,” she said before leaning back in her chair and doing a spin. Her perfume filled the room like a pungent mist.
When she came to a halt, Parksie could see she was flushed. “You know Jonathan, you had me a little worried for a while, especially when we first started.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. To begin with you weren’t very receptive. None of the others I converted took anywhere near as long as you. But, sometimes in this job you need the patience of a saint, “ she said laughing.
Parksie didn’t know why but he laughed too.

“Jonathan, the marketing Director of BMW called he asked if you would mind calling him back,” Skinner said.
Parksie was glued to his monitor, studying the multi coloured squares that filled his excel spreadsheet. Each signified a stepping stone towards another fat commission cheque.
“Jonathan, the Marketing Director…”
“I heard you first time squealer, alright!”
Skinner shoulders shrunk back making him look like a kid wearing his Dad’s suit. He shuffled back to his seat. Jenny tottered over to Parksie's desk, loitering at his side. Parksie ignored her. She coughed.
“Erm, I’m going to Pedro’s and I just wondered if you would like anything.”
Parksie spun round on his chair to face her. She blushed and did a little step back.
“Why don’t you go to StarCups. One they are cheaper, “Parksie said holding a finger up to emphasis his point “ and two they don’t take about a million years to serve you.”
“We always go to Pedro’s,” Skinner said.
“Was I talking to you? Pedro’s is for monkeys.”
Jenny’s hand shot to her mouth, but couldn’t stifle a giggle.
“I’ll go to StarCups if you like Jonathon,” Jenny said.
“Good Girl. I really don’t know how that place has lasted so long. If I owned that pit the first thing I’d do would be to bin Pedro.”
“Oh, how can you be so heartless,” Jenny said with big eyes.
Parksie looked over towards Rebecca’s office.1 “It’s easy once you know how.”