“Now let me get this straight,” E. Z. rumbled, controlling himself to keep from making a face at the wheaty flavor of his nightly gin. “Are you telling me that Archer’s wife told you that Archer can’t cut the mustard?”
“That’s right dear. Isn’t it awful?” Neva smacked her rhino lips around flakes of wheat germ and repeated the question. “Isn’t it awful? Why, they’re barely more than newlyweds!”
“Urrggphh!” E. AZ. grunted. He was shorter and squatter than his wife, but they looked enough alike so that it was easy to see they were of the same species. The mudbottom of the African veldt was their natural habitat and it occurred wherever they happened to be. Now E. Z. (Papa Hippo) furrowed his thick-skinned brow and mused (brayed) aloud on what Neva (Mama Hippo) had revealed to him. “And Archer’s wife asked you to help her reactivate his gonad by involving him in an affair with another woman. And you agreed? Urrggphh!”
“Well, I thought I should be helpful, dear. I felt sorry for her.”
“Urrggphh! Perhaps . . . perhaps . . . but there’s more involved here than Archer’s marriage.” (The echo of trumpets and the aromas of oil for the lamps of China.) “The Company is involved! And that has to be our first consideration. The welfare of the Company.”
“Of course, dear. That’s why I told you immediately.”
“The Company comes first! If Archer’s condition threatens the welfare of the Company . . . urrggphh!” The snort was very ominous.
“Naturally.” Neva agreed. “But if there’s some way I can help these young people . . .”
“The Company looks after its own,” E. Z. reminded her. “Archer is a Company man; The Company will do everything in its power—which, as you know, is con- siderable -- to help Archer resolve his problem.”
“Oh, I know, dear. I just thought that if I could be of use . . .”
“Of course, if the Company should take steps to help Archer and those steps should prove to be in vain . . .” E. Z. lowered his head and glowered at the crust of wheat germ around his martini glass. “Well then, I’m afraid. . .‘
“I was thinking about Archer’s problem and I think I know just the girl to . . . ”
“After all, Archer is directly concerned with our contraceptive products. Therefore, his sex life must be of concern to the Company. If our competitors should get hold of the fact that one of our young executives was having a potency problem --! Just think how delighted they’d be to tie that in with our product. First and foremost, I have to think of protecting the Company!”
“Whatever the Company does, it might be helpful to follow L1ona’s suggestion regarding another woman as well. After all, she’s his wife: She knows him better than anybody else.”
“You may be right,” AE. Z. granted (granted). “But there’s a procedure to be followed in cases like this, a Company procedure. If your idea can fit in with that procedure, my dear . . . well, we’ll see.”
The wheels of the Company procedure were put into motion a few days later when E. Z. summoned Archer to his office. “My boy.” E. Z. got right to the point. “You’re aware, of course, of the recently instituted Company policy of corporate psychology.”
“Yes sir,” Archer replied. “But only in a general way, I’m afraid.”
“The policy is predicated on the conviction that the mental health of Company executives affects the welfare of the Company. Therefore it’s a matter of legitimate Company concern—both for the welfare of the Company and_—altruistical1y—for the welfare of the particular executive.”
“The Company looks after its own.” Archer snapped to.
“The Company psychologist is, of course, always available to Company executives on any level. However, there is more advanced treatment which has always been limited to senior executives. Normally you wouldn’t qualify for this treatment since you’re only a junior executive. That’s Company policy.”
“Well, the Company knows best.”
“Yes. However, I’ve gotten special dispensation for you to take advantage of this advanced treatment even if you are only a junior executive.”
“Thank you very much, sir.” Archer was puzzled. But he was experienced enough in Company etiquette not to let it show.
“After all, sometimes the pressures can affect a junior executive just as much as if he had already attained senior executive status.”
“It’s nice of you to say so, sir.”
“And, as you know, Archer, I’m a very sensitive man. I’m sensitive to the problems of my people. When one of my people cuts himself, I bleed. When one of my people barks his shin, I feel pain. When one of my people is constipated, I squeeze. Do I make myself understood?”
“Oh, yes sir!” Archer lied. “I’ve seen you bleed, I’ve seen you feel pain. I’ve seen you-—”
“And being a sensitive man, I’ve become aware of your problem, Archer.”
“My problem, sir?”
“That’s all right, Archer.” E. Z. held up his hand (hoof). “I know it’s too painful for you to discuss with me. I’m a sensitive man, Archer, I just want you to know that I recognize your problem and that I sympathize—even empathize-—with it. Now you and I need never mention it again.”
"We’ll never mention it again, sir.” Archer was feeling dizzy. Never mention what again?
“But I have a responsibility to the Company, and so do you, Archer. We have a responsibility to see that you are helped. In keeping with this responsibility, I’ve arranged for you to spend next weekend at the Hussalin Institute.”
“The Hussalin Institute?”
“Yes. The Company deals with Hussalin on an annual retainer basis so that any of our executives can receive help as the need arises. I’ve arranged for the Institute to waive the senior executive requirement and Dr. Baariasol will be expecting you at nine Saturday morning.”
“Dr. Baariasol? Is he the head of the Institute?”
“No. He’s the psychiatrist in charge of the encounter group in which you will participate."
“Encounter group? Uhh—-What’s that, sir?”
“You’ll find out, Archer. It will be explained to you when you get there. To be honest, I’m not too sure how it works myself. But other Company executives have participated in encounter groups at the Institute and it’s done them a world of good. Don’t worry, my boy. The Company always knows what it’s doing.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that, sir. Only-—-”
“Is there something bothering you, Archer?”
“Well, I was just wondering—-Why me, sir?"
“Given the nature of your problem, Archer, I shouldn't think you’d have to ask.”
Archer chewed on that blankly for a couple of seconds. “You really think my problem is that severe, sir?” he finally asked, hesitantly.
“How can you ask that, Archer?”