The
Bottom Floor
by skrath
Chapter 3 - Putting Things Together
Now I wouldn't be too surprised if things still didn't make any sense to you. Don't worry about it, you're not really supposed to. Why, it's almost like some sort of mystery! Oh, and don't let the title of this chapter fool you, you're not really going to understand all that much more after reading this chapter, but it will be interesting!
Well anyway, Cedric Johnson was on a business trip in Chicago; for some sort of conference or something. He was in his hotel room watching TV. Well, rather he was riffling through channels of blather on the television. While flipping by one of the local channels he heard the following:
"[click]…name is Harold Paxter from…[click]"
Now, this little snippet of audio that Mr. Johnson had just heard was, of course, a new commercial that Mr. Paxter had made. It was one of those ads for the actual advertising agency telling people how easy it was to have your advertisements on high-ranking television stations and such. You know, those really stupid ads that you really couldn't give a crap about because most people don't have anything to advertise.
Cedric stopped clicking for a moment and spoke aloud to himself, "What? Harold Paxter… uhhhhh… what the? That's the name that short guy in the bar mentioned…" Cedric clicked back to the channel he had heard Paxter's name on and saw a big logo for New Eastern Advertising with some annoying background music to boot.
"Hmmm… New Eastern… son of a bitch."
Cedric went to the side of his bed where the miniature dresser was and opened up the first drawer. Finding a Bible he promptly closed the drawer and opened the next one. He pulled out the local telephone book, one of them anyway, and looked up New Eastern Advertising.
"Well then, I'm gonna go find that little bastard tomorrow."
And so after watching TV for a few more hours Mr. Cedric Johnson finally went to sleep. He had a strange dream about little bald-headed dogs running around and barking his name. No, I'm not making that up, that's what he told me.
In the morning, after he ate his complimentary continental breakfast, Cedric got into his rented car and headed towards New Eastern Advertising. It didn't take him too long to find the place; Chicago isn't that hard to navigate. It's nothing like, say, Boston.
He finally found the place, it was a fairly large building but he doubted that the advertising agency owned the whole thing. He parked in a nearby underground parking garage and walked over. He found the directory listing on the inside and pushed the button for the elevator. Once the elevator doors opened, he got inside and hit the button for the 43rd floor. The doors slid closed.
Meanwhile, upstairs in his office, Harold Paxter actually was working. He was going over some new advertisement ideas when a loud buzz came from the little box on his desk. Harold absentmindedly pushed a button on the box while still looking at the papers in front of him and said:
"Yes?"
"Excuse me Mr. Paxter, but there is a Cedric Johnson here to see you. He says it's important that he sees you."
Harold stopped what he was doing and looked at the box. "What? Who did you say?"
"A Mr. Cedric Johnson. Should I send him in?"
"Umm… Yes, send him in…" Harold recalled his run in with that small, pudgy man a few weeks earlier. He really didn't know what to think.
After a few seconds a Mr. Cedric Johnson stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Harold, with a bit of a frown on his face, stood up from his desk.
"So, you're Cedric Johnson?"
"Yes I am, and I want to know why you sent that man to talk to me!"
"What? Man? I never sent a man to talk to you… I don't even know where you-Wait! Short man, kind of pudgy?"
"Yes, that sounds about right, who is he?"
"I have no idea, he came in here one day asking if I knew you. Do you know this man?"
"Of course not! He came up to me in a bar and asked if I knew you. When I said I didn't he mumbled some apology or another and walked off."
Harold looked down at his desk for a moment as if expecting some sort of hidden answer in the notes he had written.
"Well then who the hell is this guy?"
But before Cedric could answer, another buzz came from the box on Harold's desk. Harold paused for a moment and then pressed the button. "Yes?"
"Excuse me again Mr. Paxter, but there is a Mr. Lewison to see you again. He says it is extremely important that he sees you."
"Mr. Lewison? Send him in here now!"
"Yes sir."
The door to Harold Paxter's office opened and a rather short pudgy man walked in and closed the door behind him. Cedric turned around to see whom it was and in realization his mouth popped open in amazement. After a second or two he responded.
"YOU?!?"
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Chapter 4
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