The following is an excerpt from the Manager's diary, we have selected an employee to sacrifice in an effort to get this pushed through to publishing.
Dear Diary,
It is May Twenty-Sixth, the year of Our Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth Two Thousand and Twenty-One, the sky is clear and the sun shines as brightly as it did on the battlefield. I have spent only about 12 hours thinking about her today, down from 16.
I'm losing him.
I'm losing RC-2, my dear son, to that woman.
She's taking advantage of my need to maintain my business empire, she knows I can't call my boy home as often as I'd like because investors and shareholders need my attention all the time, and it's tearing me apart.
Is it not a man's duty, if not a father's duty, to raise a young man into someone worth being proud of?
I cannot allow him to think less of me, I must now choose between delegating precious work meant for a man of status or remarrying to that woman just to exert dominance over the situation. I cannot choose either of these, as loosening my tight grip on my work would allow human snakes into my organization and the other would be betraying the promise I made to my dear, departed wife.
I want to be a good father.
I want to make you proud, Mary.
As the years draw shorter in my long life, and my grief grows more and more unbearable, I more profoundly regret my decision to become something more conceptually perverse compared to a human being. I cannot take my own life, and my defenses are too high to allow myself to die without knowing my son can be someone who wears my name proudly.
I will meet with that woman, Juniper, this weekend, see what my boy has been spending time with her for, and see about working out a mutually beneficial deal that will allow us both to reach our goals while ensuring my boy's mental health blossoms as he reaches maturity.
Your friend and mine,
Roger D. Cheeto Sr.