Too Good to be True?

By: Frank Remele and Razmon Urbano


Jerry Serratos drove to work comfortably, believing he had made it in life. At 24 years old, he was the CEO and founder of the tech giant Ulo, worth billions. His own personal worth amounted to an excess of 500 million dollars, which was more than enough to drive a nice car; one that looked a bit more classy and performed better than the one he currently drove. Jerry did this for personal benefit, appearing more down to earth to the media, and able to relate to the common people a bit more than his wealth would imply, and therefore subtly improving the marketability of his company. However, he wasn’t actually as down to earth as the image he tried to portray.

Jerry pulled into his very large, very grand parking lot. Ulo’s headquarters were solely accessible to employers, and despite that, labeled sections were required. Section A, Section B, Section 1A, 1B… and so on. All these sections were labeled with text very large, in signature Ulo font. Following Steve Job’s example, Jerry also decided to take calligraphy classes at his University, but with the extent of actually receiving a degree for his work. With the knowledge taken from the calligraphy classes, Jerry was able to innovate a signature font for his company that would be displayed on all devices produced by Ulo. The font had its own name, Ublo, and was aesthetically appealing, designed to make the consumer feel they owned a quality product. Jerry looked at these labelled sections, and grinned.

As Jerry got out of his car, he noticed a homeless man sitting in the park located around thirty yards from him. This homeless man was carrying a traditional sign asking for money, wearing traditional homeless clothes. Jerry was very tired of this, knowing that these homeless people positioned them perfectly close to the Ulo building, knowing that Ulo employers made a respectable amount of money, and that one or two would most likely be compassionate enough to donate. Since the homeless were technically still on public property, and not in the Ulo parking lot, he could not prosecute them for loitering.

“Excuse me sir, but would you possibly be interested in donating some money in the benefit of the needy? I just need a bit to buy myself some food,” the homeless man asked.

Jerry, quite fed up with incidents like these, decided to take action. He walked briskly to where the homeless man was located.

Jerry stood right above the homeless man. He bent over, so that his face was only a few inches from the homeless man’s own. He cocked his head to the right, and widened his eyes, and made the largest, fakest smile.

Jerry replied, “No.”

Jerry then walked away from the homeless man, the homeless man not saying anything in reply. The man’s face had been so gaunt. Jerry felt a slight twinge of remorse, but this was not a time for regrets. No, they had this coming. They, in fact, were taking advantage of the fact that employees of Ulo were generally well-off. They deserved this. HE deserved this. Jerry smiled; he really had done nothing wrong.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Hello, sir.”

Jerry encountered a swarm of these as he entered the building, before he took the stairs to his office on the top floor. While there was an elevator, he made non-executives take the stairs if their office was located on a higher floor. This was to give another incentive to work your way up the corporate ladder, and also as a subtle message to learn to work hard. Again, for self-image purposes. When the annual tour of the Ulo headquarters was going on, Jerry led the media around the building, choosing to take the stairs.  However, today was not the annual tour, and despite all the “Good mornings” toward him, he chose not to acknowledge them. They were far below him, how could they possibly expect a reply?  If they had a problem with the current environment, they could either quit, and if they dared call him out for it, they would be fired. Quite simple honestly. If he caught an employee deliberately not greeting him with a good morning, it was fine; they simply would not be getting a pay raise within the near future.

He had arrived at his destination. His grand office space was decorated outrageously, with everything designed for the purpose of artistic appeal. Inside his office was an array of shades of black and white, and portraits of himself all around the room. Really, the only difference between them were the poses he struck. The only framed work besides the portraits of himself were the numerous awards that his company received over the years. Jerry paused to look at them. The portraits of himself, that is. What a handsome man he was. He had no desire to be in a relationship with the amount of women that wanted to get with him. Jerry sat down in his highly ergonomic chair, relaxing. In his chair, he powered on his computer.

It was the first model of an Ulo, which was still extremely, fast given how early the company was made. The screen powered on, showing the iconic Ulo logo. It appeared like that for fourteen seconds.

Suddenly, it didn’t.

Jerry screamed.

It was the homeless man, looking straight into his eyes. More vivid than an image on a computer could ever hope to possibly be, it was him.

Jerry was transported into a red, fiery place.

It happened to be quite unlike his office.. What was going on here? These had to be hallucinations…

After three nights in hell, Jerry met the Devil. The three nights felt like eternity. Jerry watched his loved ones tortured in front of him, endlessly.

It all happened so fast…..

“Your sick deeds were done in the blink of an eye,” the Devil said in his deep, raspy voice, “Did you really expect any warning beforehand?

Jerry’s skin was set aflame, being scorched alive, understanding that he would suffer for Eternity.

Jerry’s eyes rolled back into his sockets.



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