Still Unemployed Fizzo!

Exactly what the title refers to; 'duh!'

 

     There had  to be something!  He could almost feel his desperation peering over his shoulder like a second head with wild eyes as he scanned the 'Help Wanted Channel' on the boobitron.  He was just about out of caylon; yet there was nothing.  What was he going to do?  He hated to admit it, but it looked like a trip to the unemployment office was in order.

 

 

******

 

 

     It was under a threatening, dark sky that he mounted the steps leading to The Unemployment Office.  The weather matched his mood; gray.  He reluctantly grabbed a number and took a seat next to a weird lizard wearing an Eternal Eclipse tee shirt.  Sure, only the most successful band on Herkonia, squeezing the very last caylon from the pocket of someone who was quite possibly the last lizard who could afford it.  He slumped down in his seat and was confronted with a poster screaming,

 

      "So, you claim to not be able to find a job, huh?  It's time for you to get off your dead a*s and look again.  Sucking off the tit of society, you should be ashamed!"

 

     Well, it was good to know they're compassionate!  thought Fizzo.  Suddenly his depressive contemplation was shattered by Eternal Eclipse Boy,

 

     "So, you can't find a job either, huh?  I've been looking for 51 weeks and my benefits are set to run out if I don't find work this week; then I'm not sure what to do.  My band haven't taken off yet, and I can't even find work cleaning toilets."

 

      No job even for sucking s**t?  He was in BIG trouble!  He briefly wondered how you could play a thunderamous with feet/hands, but soon returned to his gloomy thoughts.

 

 

******

 

 

     "Number 3,875 please, number 3,875 please!" came the almost indecipherable announcement over the P.A.  That was him, finally.  He had almost dozed off and on for most of the day and he was hungry and not in the best of moods as he approached a woman with a bored, almost-disgusted scowl on her face.

 

     She looked him up and down and said disgustedly, "Oh boy, the  poster-lizard for laziness!"

 

     He was shocked and asked, "What?"

 

     "Oh great, lazy and stupid!"  Darlax Confusiousereno was totally against their policy of shaming unemployment recipients into not filing for benefits, but, with their budget crisis, she supposed they had to do something.   There were so many lizards out of work that the whole unemployment benefit barge was going down by the bow.  "Just sit your lazy a*s down and listen up."

 

     Meekly, he flopped to the floor.  He wasn't one of the new breed of erect posturers.  He was mortified and embarrassed, as opposed to finding maybe uncaring indifference, this woman was doing a stand-up comedy routine on his a*s; well, back in his day, it would have been four-on-the-floor comedy routine, but now that so many of the younger generation were erect, it was called stand up.

 

     "So, why don't you tell me why a seemingly-healthy lizard such as yourself can't find work, and spare me the, 'there's no jobs available!' bullshit; let me guess, you have four broken feet/hands!" 

 

     Fizzo couldn't believe what he was hearing.  "Look, I'm not going to lay here and be insulted; good day!"

 

 

******

     As Darlax watched him slither angrily out the door she once again thought that maybe humiliation wasn't quite the right approach, but she had to admit it looked like it had worked.

 

 

******

 

 

      "Ma'am these miracles of technology suck anything!" Damn, he had forgotten the word 'up' after 'suck'.  She slapped him hard in the face and turning, went back inside and slammed the door in his face.  As he listened to the slam echoing off nearby houses he thought to himself, gee, another sale all but guarantied!   He'd taken this job selling 'Suck Queen Vacuum Cleaners' against his better judgment, for he'd never been blessed with great lizard-skills, but he'd had zero luck finding anything else.  He tucked the brochure into his back pocket, as it had stopped raining for the moment and wouldn't get wet as he slithered, and flopped down on his four feet/hands, slithering up the street.  He's had it; screw this!  He would not put up with being called a fudge packing lounge lizard on more time.  These house-lizards where b*****s on wheels, although maybe packing fudge at a candy store would be a good job?  He chuckled mirthlessly to himself and kept on slithering.

 

The End

    

 

        

Reviews

[Marie]

So Fizzo fails again. He even fails at being unemployed.

[Michael Stevens]

Yep, failure is spelled F-I-Z-Z-O!