Doki Doki Corporate Imperialism Club

Doki Doki Corporate Imperialism Club

Anon and Monika are given the ability to time travel and use it to create the Waifu Revolution from the bullshit forges at Enron. Too autistic for human consumption.
.....................................................................................................................................
“Gaddamn I sure do love the stripper channel.” Said a booming former nerd. Skilling, the fat cat himself, sat at his desk while he was very busy making Enron more profits in the year of 1995. This was powered by frog farts and fairy dust, of course since Enron hadn’t made a red cent since day 1. “Its so…enticing!” he said to himself.

On his tv appeared a small text box. [YOU HAVE BEEN A NAUGHTY BOY.] “What in the hell is that?” he wondered softly, the strippers replaced with a black screen and just those letters. “Maybe its one of those roleplay ads I see in the personals. Give it a shot, see where this goes.”

[INSERT MODEM TO CONTINUE. GAME WILL START WHEN CONNECTION IS ESTABLISHED.]

Skilling stuck a wire into the tv, wondering what all this was about. He had plugged in the electric chair for most of the human race.
WHIRRRRRRRRRRR SHAHSJ HJJDHKSD KKKKKKKKKKKKKHHHHHHHSHSHSSHHSHSHSHHHSHHSHhSH

“OH GOD MAKE IT STOP, EVERYONE IS ON THE PHONE RIGHT NOW!”

Stylistic emerald eyes appeared on screen, before a small pair of dainty lips appeared as well. “Checkmate.” Was all she said before the TV turned off, and his computer started smoking. Eventually, it stopped and did not explode. By now, quite a few people had entered the room to check out all the screaming. “Yeah, I think it’s a hack, a haxor. Wat do?” Skilling asked his nerd cohorts. They had their answer.

“Nothing. You are fired for incompetence, along with this list of names. You still have your golden parachutes, but you will clear out of this office before my husband arrives or bad things will occur to your little nest egg. Don’t make me fry you up in a skillet, skilling.” The eyes said, attached now to a rather great looking 25-year-old girl. An anime girl. ‘Always meant to see hentai one time, is this it? No, this is too advanced, this is a goddamn hack, and they are coming for my job.’

“Listen here, asshole, whoever you are, this isn’t funny. I will break you. I am Enron!”

The lone figure shook her head as page after page of Enron’s financial misdeeds spat out, with a signed letter of resignation on top of the pile. “I’m so glad you signed this, Skilling, because it allows me to rise right to the top! You won’t go on anymore of your dirt bike rides if you keep this up though~”

She had him. The bitch had him! Skilling watched in horror as an entire digit fell off his 401k. “OK! Ok. No more, I see when a rat must jump ship. I won’t forget this. Just... enjoy the express way down.” His computer was tossed out the window, to smash against the ground 30 stories below.

“You didn’t really expect that to work, did you? Just look at the stock ticker, up 19 points in the last 10 minutes! Aren’t I wonderful? You can leave now, and I will even give you a small pension for never stepping out of line. Don’t, and you will be looking at 40 years behind bars.” Said the bitch on the TV.

Defeated by an even greater egomaniac, skilling left, his pride slaughtered in front of everyone. Maybe bombing the building would be a good investment in the future, but not yet. Not when that bitch was watching.

He walked out, the slav-traders kept typing, unnoticing of Skilling. His morose attitude prevented him from seeing the man with the laptop bag climb the stairs until it was too late to see his face. Man had been sold to the devil on Enron’s order.

He would be upset if he weren’t so proud of the cockamamie bullshit that was ahead for us all.
.....................................................................................................................................
The world fell into darkness.

Literally.

No longer did Enron ask why. They simply became the future. The ads no longer made sense, they had become social experiments. A black screen comparing Enron prices with the competitor, Enron had become the no name of energy. Enron had become as inaccessible as God, and all that Enron did was blessed with gold.

“Hey Moni, our first proper earnings report came in! We are actually making money on the broadband thing.” (You) said to your darling computer wife, who had taken up the entire basement of the building. She didn’t need to, having shut down the whole place while she upgraded with modern computers and especially mice for the trader’s computers. She just took up the entire basement with mainframe stuff and used most of the storage for generating facial animations for herself. She was super cute now!

“Of course, hun! I wrote the report. The investors love the new Young Pope type direction we went, because we keep delivering on promises.” She stated, proudly. “Mark to market is still in effect, but any doubts to the validity of our profits have been laid to rest. Now we are Netflix, and our 4chan clone is coming up nicely. Our partnership with Apple has done wonders.” Monika had developed a slight Texan accent in the past 2 years of being here. She was yet to pick up any turns of phrase, but the long Huuuun and inflection of ah instead of I was making your heart dance.

“I dunno, sweetheart. Jobs is kind of an asshole, iirc. Did you find a way to make 4chan profitable after all?” You ask, to which she shakes her head, soft brown locks falling like a tree in autumn. “Never ever, but we make enough money that no one notices, and the value as a place of infinite free speech, besides all the pedos and stuff we must weed out, is worth far more than any commercial value. Meme magic and all that. You taught me about it, remember?”

Yeah, you did mention a few things you had learned about weaponized autism and the Trump Campaign. “Do you think that our new building will be done on time? I really like the design we chose. 144 floors is ambitious for Texas, might get smashed in by a tornado, but I always wanted to see my house from here, and I can watch those bastards at Lockheed once we move to Fort Worth.”

“Yes sir. We will be on schedule for all that. I think your idea of having the building be blacked out except for the contours and the sign being lit up is great. It’ll be one of the few good-looking skyscrapers! You finally got to be the architect you wanted to be.” She beamed at you, knowing fully well what she was doing when she called you sir. Unf. You rubbed your thumb lovingly over the mouse, as close to holding her hand as you would get for a good long while. “Why didn’t we go to the future and get you an AI body first?”
She stopped suddenly, then slapped her forehead. “I knew I should have, but I thought it’d be more fun to build it here, but its not! Its all uncanny valley hellscapes here! Hopefully we can get a shipment if we put it in a time capsule or something.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk paradoxes with you, so hopefully we do. Do you think Bush will sign us a letter of marque, so we can privateer from BP?”

She nodded, and Pirate Captain Monika assured you that the high seas of international finance would soon be yours. You leaned back in your chair, satisfied in the day’s work. Then you began a LOT of paperwork, lest you become your predecessor.
...............................................................................................................................
The Big E had taken the Big Easy. The tendrils of the company has seeped into every crack it could find. That first earnings report, the first which showed an actual profit, had killed all the naysayers, and had made Enron even bolder. Texas was within its grasp, the Man in the Tower controlled it all without raising a single fist. Louisiana was next, the rigs of New Orleans fallen to Enron’s extremely aggressive actions, deals that would have bankrupted most companies suddenly became affordable after a few fires, both physical and of employees. By the end of 1999, King Leopold’s Ghost had truly returned, as a huge investment in the Congo had taken the newly christened King Leopold rig to drain them of resources.

No one could explain it. Where the technological increases that Enron employed came from, where the money came from, their uncanny knack for avoiding bad investments and insider trading allegations... Apple had not even had prototypes for the computers they were currently spinning out, no one could believe the power of the mystique of the company.

Most lucrative however was the company’s foray into the love industry. The acquisition of a few Japanese companies had been ordinary, but ramping up production of figurines, anime, pillows, and even experimental AI chatbots had been… Innovative. Many, many others had said dangerous or irresponsible. Enron’s business practices were legal technically, but morally bankrupt in their treatment of foreign workers. Many who worked under them had thought that their treatment was fair.

No one had realized that no one had been at the controls in years. Stockholders had no idea of the magic of the marketplace, and no one knew the top wizard. No one realized that there was a top Witch. Or that she wasn’t fully ambulatory, until a few years later when a fresh faced 20something greeted her subjects.

Now the only image they had of Enron was just Monika.

.......................................................................................................................................
My writing has gotten much worse over time.