“So how did your interview go about champ?”
“I was selected…”
“But not as quality control analyst, I was relegated to the accounts office.”
“But your expertise is fodder! Why they sent you to accounts?” asked his mum.“Meritocracy is something too. You can’t teach a fish how to fly.”
“Gradually he will climb up the ladder. Who was selected as fodder analyst by the way?” his dad asked.
“Mr Uttam Calico.”
“What? Of all animals! I doubt he knows anything about fodder! What does a cat know about hay anyway?!” she interjected.
Enough of your mooing Margarita! Atleast he got a job…”
Vacky promptly reported to work and handled the ledgers adeptly but he missed his true calling- fodder analysis. After completely balancing his worksheet he would often go to the fodder warehouse.
“The smell doesn’t sit right.” He said to himself on one of his daily strolls. He went to another batch, all had the same weird smell and texture.
A loud meowing interrupted his chain of thoughts.
“May I know the purr-pose of your visit here?” Uttam asked.
“Assessing the quality of the fodder.” blurted out Vacky.
“Did you forget your job position by any chance? If am not mistaken you should be dealing with cheques in your office right now!”
“Yes but let me point out that the hay used here is moldy. It hasn’t been properly ground too.
“Be the meek cow you are and shut up, a newbie like you got no business here!” He said licking his paws.
“I should take the bull by the horns and talk to boss about this during the upcoming meeting.” Vacky said to himself.
“Your idea proved to be a cash cow. We have got so many pre-orders. Congratulations Mr Uttam!”
“Sir the fodder quality is questionable.” Vacky intervened.
“What do you mean by that? Weren’t you attentive enough during the presentation? Our sales have shooted!”
“What does a newbie like you know anyway? You just hatched out of university and already acting like a rooster. Do you want to get fired?”
Vacky sighed, he was both sad and frustrated by his helplessness.
“Vacky the newbie? Why so quiet? Did the cat get your tongue?” Uttam meowed and walked away like a cat who just ate the canary.
A week later, a group farm’s representatives came to return trucks of fodder and angrily claimed a refund.
“What kind of fodder are you selling? Do you not vet your fodder before selling?” they complained.
Bullsmith banged his horns in despair.
Finally the cat was let out of the bag. Uttam had garnered numerous pre-orders for fodder by proposing tempting cheap prices. He then produced poor quality fodder with cheaper alternatives and fled with the money. Now the company was left bereft of capital and laden with moldy fodder.
“Vacky, you were right! Can you suggest an idea?”
“Well Sir what can a newly hatched newbie like me possibly do?”
Connect with Penmancy:
Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!