Tales of Amethyst Part 2: I wait for you here, like a stone. Kind of a dour title, right? It's not even that serous a plotline, it's just a song reference... Or is it? Ugh, let's just go with it.

As the promo department scrambled desperately to make an almost entirely unnecessary promo, Amethyst had just returned from lunch to find her tyrannical boss angrily tapping his finger on her desk. Yes, we throw out the word tyrannical pretty liberally, don't we?

Her boss, the great and powerful Eugene Pterodactyl, was a middle-aged disgraced-actor-turned-talk-show-host. A fiery puff of red hair stood on top of his freckled brow. His frame, which was once athletic, was more couch potato these days, heavy on the potato. Of course, it wouldn't be Eugene Pterodactyl without one of his trademark ascots that were woven from the hair of his fallen enemies. Yes, he took his competitive nature as an actor very seriously back in the day. Hell, even his talk show regularly blew the minds of his rivals on other networks. That might explain there was a quick turnover rate of hosts on other networks while his reign was supreme.

 "Eugene? Hey, I didn't know you were going to be here today."

"Yes, that's why you took a two-hour lunch break at 10 AM."

"I'm sorry, it's just that..."

"You have no discipline," Pterodactyl growled with his signature baritone. "My last second-in-command moved heaven and earth to spare me the trouble of doing the everyday minutiae of a ****ing peasant. It seems you'd have me do everything myself while you fritter away your time...my time, by having lunch with your girlfriends. Instead of making sure that the show was running on schedule, you're out there gossiping over a salad and a latte..."

 "Hey, that's a sexist stereotype. I was eating chow mein..."

The vein in his forehead, that rivaled the Nile in its breadth, throbbed like a flooding river. That's a messy metaphor, isn't it? Oh well, never mind.

"I hired you to be my assistant producer, but all you seem to do is make me do everything myself, you sorry excuse for a human being."

"Hey! I resent that! I'm a person and I deserve respect."

Pterodactyl towered over the petite Amethyst as he continued the humiliation. "Respect is not mandatory. You do your damn job and, maybe, someday, I'll think about it. Until then, just remember what a worthless piece of garbage you were when you begged me for a job. Remember that the next time you decide to leave me waiting for you here, like a stone. Do you understand, you miserable wretch?"

"I, uh..."

"Well?!"

With a disgraced bow, Amethyst replied, "Yes."

"Good! Don't make me have to give this speech again. I don't want sully myself by speaking with underlings."

With that final venomous burst, Eugene left Amethyst's office. Amethyst, crestfallen, melted into her seat and stared blankly at her computer screen, eyes glazed with silent horror.

Brick, completely unaware of what had transpired, entered the office unannounced.

"Hey, Amethyst? We're struggling with that promo. Could you send us a copy of the script?"

"..."

"Amy?"

"Hmmm?" she asked, half-aware of what was going on, her stare still fixed at her depressed reflection in the 

computer.

 "The script? For the promo?"

"Oh. I'm sorry...was I supposed to send it? I forgot... I'm such a mess."

 "What are you talking about?"

"It's nothing," she said, holding back the flood of self-loathing that begged for release.

"Okay, " Brick reluctantly remarked, wanting to know what the hell was going on. He left the office disappointed.

 Amethyst reached into her desk drawer and examined her unbreakable contract, signed in her own blood on the day she started working at the company.

"Someday..." she murmured as saline drops streaked the immutable document that stood in the way of her freedom.