Clean up aisle six
Another day, another dollar, another god awful mess to fix. That’s your life from now on boys and girls, welcome to the cleaning crew.
Speaking of mess I’m not talking about mopping up the blood, no that’s for the minimum wage drones and class D expendables. No, our job my happy little minions is to hide the gigantic fucking hole in the ground which will inevitably result when someone screws the pooch… or the pooch screws something up, trust me it happens. This is because we are the public relations department and our primary function is to make sure the public does not relate to anything we do. Ever. Period.
So what I’m saying is that essentially ninety percent of your job description is handing out amnesiacs like skittles to every tom, dick and harry that happens to be in the area when a skip goes on a rampage, one of the geeks over in the science department develops a god complex, an agent decides to play Rambo with a railgun or just generally whenever shit gets weird. The other ten percent is repairing collateral damage you know the usual stuff, destroying evidence, burning down crime scenes, disposing of bodies, creating bodies when the amnesiacs don’t work etc etc I’m sure you can figure out the drill.
The rest of the time you’ll be in the office spinning cover stories like nobody's business, crash landing spaceship? Weather balloon, Godzilla destroys Tokyo? Massive earthquake. zombie outbreak? Bathsalts, I’m sure you get the drift.
So again folks, welcome to PR and remember our motto. No witnesses!
One last thing, our office is just three blocks down from containment so sidearms and HAZMAT suits are in the lockers by the doors. Ciao!