I'd Stake My Reputation On It

by Bill Bernico

Mark Martin patted John on the shoulder and handed him a fat cigar. “Vice president in charge of research and development, eh? That's a mighty fancy title for someone your age. How will you be able to sleep with all that responsibility resting on your shoulders?”

John bit the tip of the cigar off and spit in the trashcan. “Responsibility? I eat it for breakfast. Pressure? I live with pressure. My age? Hell, in some countries, thirty is considered old age. And as for this job, it's the job I was born to do. Just don't get in my way or you'll be run over.” He lit the cigar and drew on it. The tip glowed and he exhaled toward Mark.

Mark made an exaggerated motion of stepping backwards and pressing his body up against the wall, his hands flat on the walnut paneling. “Go get ‘em, Tiger. What's gonna be your first project?”

John pulled open his desk drawer and pulled out a small package wrapped in brown paper. He peeled away the paper and held up the new model AD-3 and handed it to Mark. “This will be my legacy,” he said proudly.

Mark examined it and handed it back to John. “A diaper? That's going to be your legacy?” His brow furrowed for a second before he broke into a broad smile. “I get it, this is a joke, right? Good one, buddy. Okay, what's the real project?”

John turned the cigar in his mouth, wetting the tip and drawing in more smoke. He tilted his head back and poked his tongue out as he exhaled. Little smoke rings drifted toward the ceiling. “That is the real project. That's the AD-3 I've been working on for the past six months. That will be the flagship product of this company. Stick with me, my good man, and you, too could have a corner office with windows someday.”

“Why AD-3?” Mark said, still looking over the prototype.

“AD-3,” John said. “Adult Diaper, version three.”

“Three?” Mark said. “What happened to one and two?”

“The first prototypes,” John explained, “had to have some kinks worked out of them. But I feel that this version, the AD-3, is ready for mass production. I've personally tested it and have the utmost confidence that it will perform as promised.”

Mark looked up at me without raising his head. “You've personally tested it? What'd you do, put one on and piss in your pants?” He laughed and threw the AD-3 on the desk.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” John said. “What do you think?”

Mark's eyes darted back and forth and stopped on me. He shrugged. “What do I think about what?”

John raised his hands and turned around in front of Mark. “Huh, huh? Can't tell I'm wearing one right now, can you?”

Mark eyed him out of the corner of his eyes and bit his lip. “Okay, I'll bite. So you're wearing one, so what.”

“But what do you notice?” John said.

Mark headed for the door. “This is getting' too weird. I'll see you later.”

John stepped between Mark and the door. “Sit.”

“Huh?”

“I said sit. Have you forgotten that now that I have my promotion, I'm your boss?”

Mark sighed heavily and took a seat. “All right, what am I supposed to notice? That you're wearing a diaper and I can't tell? Big deal. So far you don't have a gimmick. Every adult diaper out there on the shelves can make the same claim.”

John stepped over to the table alongside his desk and picked up a glass pitcher and poured eight ounces into a glass that sat on the same tray. He held the glass up for Mark to see. “Eight ounces,” he announced. “That's about what a good healthy piss would produce. Agreed?”

Mark laughed. “Depends if you just came from a bachelor party and downed a six pack.”

John failed to see the humor. “Under normal circumstances, this is what you would produce several times a day. Believe me, I've researched this thing thoroughly.”

“Okay,” Mark agreed. “You've got your eight-ounce tinkle. Now what?”

John pulled the waistline of his pants outward and dumped the contents of the glass into the front of his pants. He put the glass back on the table and stood back, his arms once again raised. He ceremoniously made a complete turn again and said, “Well?”

“So, it soaked it up,” Mark said. “All the other diapers do that too, don't they?”

John thrust his left arm out and cocked it back, looking at his watch. “Okay. But it's now three-fifteen and this is the third time I've done this today without changing the diaper. I can do this another three times before I need to change it. Let's see the competition do that.”

Mark nodded. He had to agree that this was a claim none of the other adult diaper companies could make. He remembered seeing their commercials where the lab assistant poured a beaker of blue liquid into an adult diaper and then held it upside down to show that nothing leaked out. Why they chose blue was beyond him, but he figured it was in better taste for prime-time television than let's say, a yellow liquid. The American household wasn't quite ready for that yet.

Mark clapped three short claps and stood. “Very good,” he said. “And that's what got you this promotion? That's what made you my boss even though I've been here seven years longer than you?”

“Do I detect a twinge of jealousy?” John said. “Keep in mind that while you spent your nights and weekends partying with the boys, I was at work in the lab perfecting this model. I deserve this promotion. I earned it and I'm going to savor it. Now are you with me on this one? Do you want to ride my coattails to the top floor someday or would you rather remain in that little cubicle on the first floor?”

Mark thought about it for a moment and agreed. Life in the cubicle was wearing thin and he longed for an office of his own on some high-up floor overlooking the lake. “Count me in,” he said. “I suppose being a right-hand man to someone like you is better than being a no-hand man on the first floor.”

John smiled. “I thought you'd see it my way.” He took a seat behind his desk and made a faint squishing sound. He looked at Mark, who was looking back at him with a funny expression on his face.

“Little uncomfortable, are we?” Mark said.

“Just a tad,” John said. “But keep in mind this is only to prove my point. Most people wouldn't wet their pants three times in a single day before changing the diaper.”

“I should hope not,” Mark said in a disgusted tone. “Imagine a whole room full of people sloshing around in those things, not to mention the smell.”

“Exactly,” John said. “Now if you will excuse me, I have to change out of this one and into a fresh one.”

“Hang on, hang on,” Mark said. “You just told me this was only an experiment. You actually like wearing these things when you don't have to? For crying out loud, you're only thirty. You may be still wet behind the ears, but in the shorts? I don't think so.”

John stood and shook his head. “No I don't enjoy wearing them and hope I won't have to for quite some time to come. But I have a presentation to make in front of several potential investors at four o'clock sharp and I'll have to repeat this little experiment for them. They will be the ones to give me the go-ahead for this project and I want to be prepared. Clear your schedule for this afternoon. You can sit at my table with me.”

“Me?” Mark said. “Really? You want me there, too?”

“Certainly,” John said. “Where else but on my right would my right-hand man sit?”

Mark smiled and thrust out his chest. “Hmmm, this could be interesting. But what about a title? Right-hand man sounds like an ass kisser position. What about Assistant to the Vice President in Charge of Research and Development?”

“Your desk isn't long enough for a name plaque of that size,” John said. “How about Director of R&D?”

“Director,” Mark said. “That has a nice ring to it. What's my first assignment, chief?”

John pulled open his desk drawer and felt around inside. He shut it again and pulled open another drawer and came up empty again. He cleared his throat and said,” your first assignment is to get down to the lab and bring me another AD-3 so I can change out of this one. Then have Rudy wheel my cart down to the conference room.”

Mark snapped to attention and saluted. “You got it, chief.” He returned to John's office a few minutes later and handed him another AD-3. “You really think this little stunt of yours will win these guys over?”

“I'd stake my reputation on it,” John said.

Mark turned for the door. “I'll meet you in the conference room at four o'clock sharp.”

The door closed and John stepped over to it and turned the lock. He quickly stepped out of his trousers and undid the tape that held the AD-3 in place. John deposited it in the trashcan, dried himself off with the towel that hung near the sink in his private washroom and fastened the new, dry AD-3 in place. He pulled his pants back up and slipped into his jacket. He gathered his papers and briefcase and left his office for the conference room.

Mark was standing in the back of the room when John came in. Several executives were already seated, waiting for the meeting to start. There were exactly eight men in suits that probably cost more than John made in a month. They looked as though they hadn't had a decent bowel movement since Watergate. These were the no-nonsense guys you heard about through the office grapevine.

Rudy arranged John's display cart at the head of the long table and plugged in the overhead projector. He arranged the items on the cart that John would need for his visual aids. Before leaving through another door, Rudy touched his forefinger to his thumb, making a circle and held it up. He silently mouthed, “Okay,” and left.

“Show time,” John said. “Let's take our seats.”

Mark sat to John's immediate right and spread his own papers out in front of him. John's briefcase remained on the floor beneath them. A pitcher of water and a glass sat in front of them.

John poured from the pitcher into the glass and waited to be introduced. He leaned toward Mark. “This is it. Wish me luck.”

Mark whispered back, “You don't need luck. You've got yourself the AD-3.”

Stuart Warner, president of Warner Industries, stood and addressed the group. You could have heard a pin drop. “Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you our newest vice president in charge of research and development. This young man has sacrificed his time and invested his efforts into what we believe will be the flagship product of our company. Without further delay, I'd like to present John Stevens.”

Warner raised one arm and turned his palm upward toward John. John rose from his seat and walked to the head of the table, still holding his glass of water. He pulled his pants open at the belt and poured the glass of water in. He returned the empty glass to the table and addressed the group.

“Gentlemen,” John began. “That was eight ounces of water. I know it doesn't seem like much for one adult diaper to hold. However…”

John pointed to a larger glass that sat on his table. He held it up for all to see. “This is a twenty ounce soda bottle full of water. In just a few minutes I'll also empty it into my diaper. Then you will see the full stopping power of what I've termed the AD-3. Meanwhile, please allow me to continue.”

John switched on the overhead projector and pulled the rollaway white screen down from a string that dangled behind him. The projector screen displayed just one word in bold type…RELAX.

“Gentlemen,” John said, using his pointer. “Relax. That's all we need to say to someone who is wearing our product. They needn't worry about unsightly leaks or embarrassing odors when they're wearing our new line of adult diapers.”

John looked out over the sea of craggy-faced executives. One man at the other end of the table seemed to be smiling, but when John looked at him, the smile quickly faded. John turned back to the screen.

“Relax. That's all we need to say about our product.” Behind him, John could swear he heard an undertone coming from the table. He turned around to see several of the execs smiling. He had them in the palm of his hand, he thought. John stepped up the pace of his demonstration, confident that he could sell his product to anyone now.

John changed the slide and the screen now displayed a numbered list of features. He pointed to the first item on the list. “Security,” he said to the men at the table, “is priority one. Our customers will feel secure wearing this.” He held up one of the AD-3s and made a half-turn, showing the product to everyone in the room. He handed it to the man nearest him and asked him to pass it around.

“Dry and odor-free,” John said is what we strive for.” He lifted his head momentarily when he heard a muffled giggle. The giggling had stopped and he couldn't tell where it had come from.

John turned away from the group again and pointed to another item on the screen. Then he heard it again. This time it was in stereo. Giggling sifted back to him from both sides of the room. He ignored it and turned to face the group again.

“Gentlemen,” he said, putting down his pointer and slipping out of his jacket. “I've personally developed this latest model and have tested it over and over again and I can say unequivocally that it will keep you dry.” He placed his hands in the air and started into his turn. “I'm wearing the AD-3 even now.” Halfway through the turn the room erupted in full-blown laughter.

He turned to see everyone except Stuart Warner and Mark laughing and pointing. Stuart's Warner's face was beet-red and he looked like steam could possibly shoot out of his ears at any moment.

John felt something oozing down his leg. He slowing dropped his head and looked to see a large wet stain forming on the front of his slacks. He felt behind him. His butt was soaked as well. He could feel his face flushing and his ears burning. He quickly sidestepped to the exit and pulled the door open. He waited outside the conference room and waited for what seemed an eternity. He knew what was coming and he dreaded it.

Several minutes later Stuart Warner emerged from the door, his face still flushed and his fists clenched. Mark was right behind him. “Stevens,” Warner said through his teeth. “I have never been so humiliated in all my years with this company. Do you realize you just cost us our three largest accounts? We'll be the laughing stock of the adult diaper business after that little stunt of yours in there. Just what did you think you were doing?”

“Well, sir,” John began, “I didn't think…”

“That's right,” Warner said angrily. “You didn't think and that will cost you. After today we'll be lucky if we can salvage a third of the business we once had.”

“But Mr. Warner,” John said, “If you will just…”

Warner held up one hand. “Not another word, Stevens.” He leaned in close, their noses almost touching. “You've set us back a year in research and development. When you come in Monday morning you can take your old desk on the first floor again.”

“But sir…”

“You're lucky I don't fire you, Stevens,” Warner said. “But that would be too good for you. I want you back in the pool with the rest of the rookies where I can keep an eye on you. You got that?” The last phrase hung in the air like a sneeze.

John nodded shyly. “Yes sir. Thank you sir. I'm sorry, sir. I…”

Warner stormed off down the hall and slammed his office door behind him.

Mark tapped John on the shoulder. “Do I still get to be Director of…”

“Oh shut up,” John said. “You're back in the cubicle, too,” and slowly walked away, forgetting that he was wearing a wet diaper.

Down the hallway Mark could hear the laughter as John passed by other offices on his way to the men's room.

The following Monday morning John returned to work, expecting to find Mark in his usual cubicle. The cubicle was empty and John just figured that Mark was off making copies or talking around the water cooler. He took his old seat behind his old desk and got back to business.

On the ninth floor, a boy from the mailroom opened the door to room 905 and peered in. “Mr. Martin,” he said, “I have some mail for you. Where would you like it?”

A high-back swivel chair spun around toward the sound of the boy's voice. “Come in, come in,” Mark Martin said. “You must be new here. Well, I'll tell you now, you don't have to be shy around me, son. I'm not the prick they say I am.”

The boy's face flushed. “Sir, I didn't say…”

“Forget it,” Mark said, lighting up a fat cigar. He picked up a two-inch woman's hatpin with a black tip and held it in front of the boy's face. “This is as much of a prick as you'll find around here.” He laughed but the boy failed to see the humor and quickly exited, leaving Mark and his hatpin still seated in the high-back swivel chair.

Mark turned his chair back to the window and stared out onto the lake. He held the pin up in front of him and laughed. He got a great deal of satisfaction in knowing that this little pin was all it took to get him his very own office on the top floor.

Well, maybe a little pin and the ability to be able to calm Stuart Warner down enough to convince him that his own prototype, the AD-4, which was actually no more than an AD-3 without the twenty or thirty holes poked in it, would win back the disappointed investors who'd laughed him out of the conference room just three days earlier.

It also didn't hurt to get to the meeting before John. That gave him the chance to talk to the investors prior to the meeting in the conference room and alert them to the fact that the demonstration to come was merely an example of how the competition's product would work in the real world. He told them they'd get the real demonstration of the AD-4 bright and early Monday morning. It was nine o'clock now and time to prove himself to Stuart Warner and the investors.

It's a dog-eat-dog world out there.