Non-Denominational Office Gathering
by Mike Rusetsky
Horrific Scribes Extremity Rating:
The conference room was abuzz before the monthly staff meeting, especially since Mr. Hedlund brought in donuts. But Kathy didn’t give a damn about the meeting except for one agenda item. Okay, maybe two. The first was her pending retirement. She didn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it, but it would be nice if Mr. Hedlund acknowledged her years of service. She had less than a month left to go and was excited to celebrate the occasion with her work family.
Second—and arguably more exciting for Kathy—was the upcoming Christmas party. Her mind overflowed with decorative and culinary ideas. As the self-appointed administrator of the Party-Planning Committee, she extended her purview to staging celebrations of all birthdays, work anniversaries, and related events. She couldn’t wait to brainstorm with the whole team during the staff meeting.
“And finally,” Mr. Hedlund said nearly one hour later, “the office holiday party.”
Kathy’s face lit up at the mention of it. At last, her chance to shine!
“This year, we’re going to do something a little different,” he continued. “Kathy, I know this party is your baby, and I’m sure you’re eager to start planning.”
“Yes, sir! I’m keen to get my jollies this year. My holly-jollies, that is!”
Her festive wordplay received scattered chuckles, but Mr. Hedlund’s face remained stern. “About that, Kathy. I’m sure you’re aware that Corporate has created a new team, Employee Retention and Engagement, headed by Pam Sutter.”
Kathy’s smile dimmed. “Well, sure. Pam’s wonderful. But how does this…”
“In the interest of our increased inclusion efforts, we want to steer clear of any… favoritism.”
“Favoritism, sir?”
“Discrimination. Bias towards a particular religious faith. Which brings us to the holiday party. Notice how I said ‘holiday,’ not ‘Christmas’?”
Kathy felt called out. “But there wouldn’t be any religious overtones, Mr. Hedlund. Just folks in Santa hats drinking eggnog and exchanging presents.”
“Ah! That’s exactly the type of thinking we must eradicate.”
Kathy blinked. Things were going very wrong, very quickly. “Eradicate… Christmas?”
“Correct. Strip away all Judeo-Christian iconography. Christmas trees, herald angels, the Nativity—God forbid! And of course, Santa. None of these elements belong at a work event, because folks who don’t profess the Christian faith might feel excluded, or pressured to participate. So! You can still plan the party, Kathy. I know you’ll kill it! We just can’t name any holidays. Submit your plans to Pam for review and approval, after I’ve had my eyes on them. See where I’m headed with this?”
Kathy felt the temperature in the room rising as Mr. Hedlund spoke. This party was going to be the last mark she’d leave on this company. One final festive bang! And he wanted her to stifle herself? To euthanize Christmas joy and to leave behind… what? An empty Corporate-approved husk? She might as well bring in a box of plain bagels and call it a wake for how tragic this gathering would be.
The conference room grew quiet, and Kathy realized she still hadn’t responded to her boss. “I… see where you’re headed, Mr. Hedlund. I’ll do my best.”
The boss-man nodded. “I’m glad you’re up for it. Knowing you, this’ll be the hottest party in our company’s history! Now, to our final agenda item. Reimbursement for employees’ travel expenses…”
“I’m sorry, sir. Just one more question.” Kathy couldn’t help herself. She felt all eyes darting to her. “What if—in the spirit of diversity and inclusion—we celebrated all the holidays at this party? I could set out menorahs for Hanukkah, lay out some Mazao fruit for Kwanzaa…”
“Absolutely not!” Mr. Hedlund scolded. “Frankly, I’m disappointed you even asked. If we celebrate five holidays at once, what about our agnostic colleagues? Or our atheist friends? You can’t throw a feast for a handful of cultures and leave the rest out in the cold. So, individuality goes and neutrality stays. Understood?”
The room grew preternaturally quiet. She nodded, her cheeks burning. The rest of the meeting was a blur, and she bolted afterwards.
Cole, the student intern, caught up with her down the hallway.
“Hey, Kathy! You doing okay?”
She was decidedly not, but she wouldn’t admit it to a twenty-year-old Accounting student. Sniffling, she said, “I’m alright, Cole. Thank you for asking.”
“Bet! So… I heard I’m supposed to help you with your thing?”
Kathy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? Did Mr. Hedlund say that? I was going to call a meeting of the Party-Planning Committee.”
Cole shrugged, “Yeah, I guess Hedlund just disbanded them. He said you and I should be able to double-team it. Mentioned this is your last year doing it. Something about a retirement?”
Ah, so he did remember. But chose not to bring it up in public or to give Kathy the credit she was due for her decades of dedication to this company.
“That’s right, Cole. This time next month, I’ll be free.”
“Congrats! Anyway, so now that Hedlund’s killed your party committee, Pam’s team will handle all employee engagement. Golf outings, bring-your-kid-to-work days… everything.”
“How thoughtful of him.” Kathy’s eyes itched, tears threateningly close. She’d never felt more replaceable in her life.
Cole flashed a smile. “Just let me know how I can help! With decorations or whatever. I figure we’ll do, like, a winter-themed thing? There’s a Dollar Tree on my street, I could buy a shit-ton of paper snowflakes.”
Kathy pursed her lips. “If we’re even allowed any winter iconography.”
“You’re hilarious, Kathy! Just let me know, though.”
“Will do. Thanks for… wanting to help out.”
“Say less! See ya around.”
Kathy watched her young collaborator stroll away, nodding along to his AirPods. She sighed. She had her work cut out for her.
The weeks of planning turned out more emotionally trying than Kathy had expected. She’d hoped that some of her coworkers would express support for her vision of a lovely Christmas party. However, the chatter around the office had mostly affirmed Mr. Hedlund and denigrated her. As if she was some ancient relic celebrating a long-forgotten event. One day, she overheard two coworkers tittering about it in their cubes.
“You think Kathy can actually pull off a non-denominational bash?” one asked.
“Christmas Kathy? Doubt it!” his buddy said. “I bet she’ll go berserk and set up a whole manger scene. Then show up dressed as baby Jesus!”
“God, you’re terrible! So what’s Hedlund gonna wear? A wiseman’s beard?”
“Nah, he’ll just be what he always is. An ass!”
Laughter exploded from the cubicles, and Kathy stomped away clenching her fists. It didn’t matter that they agreed with her on Mr. Hedlund’s cruel personality. The inconsiderate bastards were badmouthing her! Kathy, who’d never done anything but make this company a success and wanted to bless her coworkers with a little joy each Christmas.
Grinches. Scrooges. Ingrates!
Finally, the day of the party came. Under Kathy’s direction, Cole did an admirable job of hanging tinsel and snowflakes in the largest first-floor conference room. The food had passed Pam’s inspection: none of the cupcakes or cookies she’d baked bore images of Christmas trees, Santa, or reindeer. The scented candles (Martha Stewart’s brand; not a Dollar Tree find) were imprinted with snowflakes and enhanced the atmosphere with a subtle cinnamon-peppermint aroma.
Coworkers milled about to the sounds of the winter-themed playlist Cole had put together. Vaguely seasonal music rang out, some that Kathy recognized (“Baby, It’s Cold Outside”, “California Dreamin’”) and ones she’d never heard of (“White Winter Hymnal”, “Let It Go”). Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, probably more so since Mr. Hedlund hadn’t shown up yet to Grinch up the occasion.
Kathy observed them with growing anticipation. She felt the jitter of nerves, because this had to be pulled off perfectly. The Scrooges were being pleasant enough, nodding hello and reaching past her to sample her baked goods. They had no idea what was coming. Kathy suppressed a private smile.
“Alright everyone, let’s start passing out the presents!” Kathy announced, but some of them seemed hesitant.
“Shouldn’t we wait for the big boss?” a helpdesk guy asked.
“I just had a one-on-one with Mr. Hedlund this morning,” Kathy said. “He’s heading this way as we speak. Cole, please help me distribute these.”
He obliged, stepping up to the table loaded with plain silver gift bags, bearing no imagery or messaging. This was originally meant to be a Secret Santa exchange, but the new rules transformed it into a swag-bag giveaway.
Kathy nodded to Cole. “You’re off the clock. Maybe you should take off when you’re done giving out the bags? Never give them free labor, right?”
Cole grinned. “Nah, this isn’t work. Besides, I gotta sample your cookies!”
She smiled wanly, then watched him work the room. It was almost time, but Kathy hesitated. Cole was a good boy. It wasn’t his fault he’d stumbled into a tyrannical company for his internship.
She made a beeline through the crowd and located the intern, who’d been chatting up the HR receptionist.
“We’ve got a problem,” she whispered.
“What’s up?”
“I’m missing the slide show I wanted to project.”
Cole frowned. “Really? I don’t recall us planning one.”
“Last-minute addition, to impress the boss. Mind fetching it for me? It’s outside in my car, on a flash drive in my glovebox.” She held out her key fob.
“Say less!” he smiled, and vanished into the crowd.
Kathy sighed with relief. He’d be looking for the nonexistent flash drive for a while. She observed the partygoers, and almost everyone had their gift bags now.
Showtime.
She swiped a Martha Stewart candle off a table and shouldered through the mingling crowd. Her coworkers kept busy with small talk, sipping their hot cocoa and chewing sweets.
Kathy reached the exit and held the burning candle against the doorframe. The fire leapt out immediately, hungry to spread down the frame and to the wooden base molding along the wall. She smiled. The rubbing alcohol she’d sprayed around the room’s perimeter was working wonders.
She departed for the corridor and closed both doors, locking everyone inside. It paid to be the Party-Planning Committee administrator: she still had the keys to the building. Pulling up a chair, Kathy sat down and began to wait.
Inside, the mild party vibes continued.
Without an announcement, nobody knew if it was permissible to open their gift bags. Finally, one brave soul crinkled the tissue paper.
“Wait… is this a joke?” he said. Then, louder: “Is anyone else’s gift, like… wet?”
He pulled out something that looked more like a Halloween present than a Christmas one. It was a fake human ear, complete with false blood. “What the hell’s this?”
More paper crinkled around the room, and someone gasped—the sound quickly drowned out by a sharp scream.
Panic seized the group as everyone unwrapped body parts from their variously sized gift bags. Hands, eyes, fingers–all of it fleshy and dripping with very realistic blood. Once someone found a human head, full-on chaos broke out.
Clad in a red Santa hat, the severed head belonged to Mr. Hedlund. His mouth gaped, and the eyes were empty sockets; two lucky employees received them wrapped separately.
The payroll supervisor scrambled for the door, finding it locked and unbudging. That’s when the spreading fire commanded their focus. Until now, the flames had been somewhat masked by the scented Martha Stewart candles, but not anymore.
Kathy sat on the chair just outside, unwrapping a special cupcake she’d baked for herself. It bore the apple-cheeked face of jolly old St. Nick. The screams and banging inside the conference room were soon joined by sirens wailing in the distance.
She bit into Santa’s face and smiled. This was a good batch. Coughing in the spreading smoke, she chewed the cupcake and hummed an old Christmas classic. The one about chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
| SPECIAL EXHIBIT 1: Return to the Introduction and Guide | Continue with Holiday Hurlyburly and read the next attraction, “Slippers from Hell“ |