The Story Behind "All the Money in the World"

Surprise, surprise! Another short story with a song title; this one comes courtesy of Black Lab’s track “All the Money in the World”.

I wrote this story while working in a Pleasures of Satire class. At the time I was working on various ideas for a concept. Among them was the idea of a play where a man was creating an atomic bomb in his basement because the 2^nd amendment. I was also annoyed by how people walk the halls of building on campus, so I considered writing a “Campus Walking License Manual” that would be a licensing program for incoming freshman that they would have to complete prior to walking on campus. I will probably return to the former idea, the latter doesn’t hold much interest for me at this point though.

A news story and a debate broke my final concept of the story. The day I came up with the concept I was having a debate about how McDonald’s is costing taxpayers about $1.2 billion a year due to low wages for employees. That same day the story broke about how Wal-Mart management was asking employees to donate food and items to other less fortunate employees who weren’t getting paid enough to provide their families for the holidays.

I will probably do a few revisions to this piece, but mostly I’m pretty happy with it.

All the Money in the World, Part 2

            “Hello,” the voice on the other end of the call said.

            “Jim, you old coot,” Charles said, “how you doin’?” Charles and Jim grew up in Virginia together. While in the business world Charles maintained a professional manner, when talking to the good old boys from home he lapsed into the parlance of his youth.

            “I’m in recess, so I’d say I’m doin’ mighty fine,” Jim said.

            “Workin’ on your golf swing.”

            “Five below par, wouldn’t you know.”

            “Yeah, we’ll see about that next time you’re near the city. By the way, thanks for pushing that tax cut through. Thanks to that cut I was able to take Loretta to the Burj Khalifa, even after the $500,000 contribution I promised you. She’s been wanting to go there ever since she saw a picture of Tom Cruise sitting on it.”

            “Now, Charlie, you know those cuts are meant to increase productivity and work force for corporations and businesses.”

            Charles sat at his desk motionless, then he burst into laughter. Jim soon followed. “You almost had me there, Jim.”

            “I thought you had a heart attack there for a minute.”

            Tears streamed down Charles’ face, he took a handkerchief from his trousers’ pocket and wiped away the tears. The laughter between them slowly died down. “Hey, Jim, I need a favor.”

            “What can I do ya for?”

            “You still oversee that food stamp committee in Congress?”

            “The House Agriculture Subcommittee on Department Operations, Oversight and Nutrition? Yeah, why?”

            “I just found out that most of our employees can’t afford our food, and...”

            “You thinkin’ about giving them raises.”

            “Enough joking around, Jim, I’ve got business to discuss.”

            “Sorry, go on.”

            “Well, I know right now food stamps aren’t allowed to be used for fast food.”

            “Across most of the country, there are a couple states that allow it.”

            “And that ain’t enough for me. Profits are up this year, but if the employees could buy our food I know we could get them higher.”

            “That’s going to be a hard one to push through Charles.”

            “My bonus is riding on it. I’ll tell you what, you push this through for me, and I’ll promise you a $1.5 million contribution.”

            “That big a deal, huh?”

            “Let’s just say, if this works out, even after that contribution I could buy Devin this custom Lamborghini Murciélago I saw while I was in Dubai for his thirteenth birthday.”

            “Nice gift. For that contribution, though, I’ll move heaven and earth to get that passed for you.”

            “Thanks Jim, it means a lot.”

            “Hey Charlie?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Where’s Devin gonna drive that thing at thirteen?”

            “I bought a racetrack last month. He doesn’t know it yet, figured I’d surprise him with the car and track.”

            “Lucky kid, kind of wish you were my dad.”

            “Get that thing passed and I’ll see what I can do.”

            “Alright Charlie, I’ll talk at ya later.”

            Charles hung up the phone and shook his head. He wore a big smile on his face. He picked up the budget and looked it over again before pushing the intercom.

            “Ms. Terrien, can you come in here again please.”

            The glass door to Charles’ office opened, and Stephanie walked back into the room with her yellow legal pad.

            “I think I have a way we can help our employees have a better holiday this season.”

            “Yes sir.”

            “Write this down, please.”

            Stephanie sat down across from Charles and readied her legal pad. “I’m ready sir.”

            “At the next managers’ meeting, which I believe is next week...”

            “Next Saturday,” she said.

            “Yes,” he said. “I want all of the managers to set up some kind of giving tree, nothing too ornate or expensive. Come up with some wording to communicate that this giving tree will be for employees to give to other needy employees to help them have a better holiday season.”

            Stephanie had stopped writing before Charles finished, and she stared at him.

            “Is there something wrong Ms. Terrien?” he asked.

            She shook her head and turned her attention back to the legal pad. “No sir. So the employees should offer to donate supplies to the other employees.”

            “Exactly, this should help foster a sense of team spirit among the franchise employees.”

            “They will definitely be united in a common cause, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you at this moment?”

            “That will be all, Stephanie.” He smiled at her.

            She stood up and began to leave the room.

            “Ms. Terrien?”

            She turned around at the door.

            “How much do you make?”

            A puzzled look came across her face. “Currently, I am salaried at $60,000 annually. May I ask why, sir?”

            “Oh, no reason,” he said turning his attention back to the budget on the desk. “Thank you Stephanie.”

            Stephanie left the room, and the door closed behind her.

            “We may have to find some way to rectify that,” Charles said to himself.

All the Money in the World, Part 1

            Charles Hoffelt sat at his desk looking over McBurger’s financials for the quarter. His office sat on the 78^th floor at the northeast corner of the Empire State Building and often he liked to take in the bird’s eye view of the city at four in the afternoon, but today he was concerned by what he felt were the company’s rising labor costs. Business was good, and profits were steadily increasing, but his end of the year bonus couldn’t handle the weight of rising labor costs.

            He pushed a button on the black intercom that sat on his desk. “Ms. Terrien,” he said, “can you come in here please?”

            The etched glass door to the office opened and a blond woman in her late twenties dressed in a conservative pants suit, carrying a yellow legal pad, walked in. “Yes, Mr. Hoffelt?” she asked.

            “How much do you think I make a year, Stephanie?” Charles asked her.

            “I don’t think, sir,” Stephanie said. “I’m your assistant, it’s part of my job to know how much you make.”

            “How much do I make then?”

            “You make $8.75 million annually before bonuses, sir.”

            “And how much do our employees make?”

            “The annual wage of our employees varies, sir, but entry level wage at the franchise level is $7.25 an hour. Most entry level employees work anywhere from twenty to thirty hours a week. So on the high end our entry level workers make approximately $11,310 an hour.”

            “That much?” he asked. He looked at her for the first time since she entered the office. He laid the budget down on the desk. “I thought it was less than that.”

            “It was, but there was a minimum wage increase recently. Despite the increase, many of our employees find that the wage leaves them in poverty.”

            “There are government programs to assist with that, though, aren’t there?”

            “Yes sir, but the employees feel that even after government assistance they are far below the poverty line.” Stephanie sat down in a chair across the desk from Charles. “Recent company-wide surveys indicate that many of our employees are particularly worried about the coming holiday season. They’re struggling to provide for their families as it is, let alone handling the traditional holiday requirements.”

            Charles leaned back in his chair. “Stephanie, what is our motto here at McBurger?”

            “Better, faster, cheaper.”

            “If we raise employee wages, how would we be able to keep that motto?”

            “I don’t have the answer to that, sir, but at the current wages our employees can’t even afford to buy our own food.”

            Charles leaned forward. “Our employees aren’t buying our food?”

            “They can’t afford it, sir.”

            “That’s a travesty.” He stood up and turned to the window. “Profits are up, but profits obviously aren’t where they could be.” He stroked his forehead then ran his hand through his hair. “Stephanie, can you get Jim on the line for me?”

            “Jim?”

            “Oh I forgot, sorry,” he said, turning around, “you don’t know Jim. Representative Jim Eldridge.”

            “The Congressman?”

            “Yes, we’re old golfing buddies. I think he can help us out here.” Charles sat back down at his desk. “If you look through my directory you should find several different numbers for him. Use his cell phone. Congress is in recess and I doubt he’ll be in his office today.”

            “Yes sir.” Stephanie stood up from her chair and exited the room.

            Charles picked up the budget and looked over it again, shaking his head. It was only a few minutes before the phone rang. He picked it up.