The Cow Chronicles Part 8: Bob's Pizza

Farmer Joe ran for the police van, but stopped dead in his tracks as he opened the door. Someone else was already sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Hello”, the government agent who had been sitting in the back of the police van the whole time said. “I’m glad I can finally arrest you. You have no idea how boring it is, sitting in the back of a van for nine hours”, he said as he drove away from the Majestic Mesa.

“Wait a minute. Bovine County is back that way. Why are we going into Plugerville?”, Farmer Joe asked.

“None of your business”, said the agent.

Plugerville housed the global headquarters of Bob’s Pizza, Inc., the world’s largest chain of pizza parlors. The CEO, Bob Jenkins, was the third richest person in the world, and it showed in the streets leading to the skyscraper that dominated the Plugerville skyline. They teemed with armored cars, and soldiers holding assault rifles stood guard at every street corner. Military helicopters flew above the streets, and the buildings nearby were adorned with floodlights.

The police van arrived at the parking garage near the skyscraper. The agent guided it into an airlock, and two soldiers walked out. While one inspected the car for bombs, the other led them to a room, where the agent was given fingerprint and retinal scans.

“My friend out there will park your vehicle. We’ll take you to it when you leave”, the soldier gruffly muttered to Farmer Joe and the agent.

People were only allowed to enter the Bob’s Pizza headquarters by invitation. Facial recognition scanners controlled every door in the buildings, from the restrooms to Bob Jenkins’ personal chambers.

Metal detectors were placed every ten feet in the hallways, and surveillance drones flew overhead. All people in the building were required to wear microphones, which transmitted every spoken word to robots scanning for trigger words. There were floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere (Farmer Joe was unsure if the windows were for providing light or an area for the military helicopters circling the building to monitor the people inside), and neon strips ran down the wall, glowing in bright, vibrant colors. The headquarters of Bob’s Pizza may have been Orwellian, but it was colorfully Orwellian.

Farmer Joe stepped into Elevator 103. At least now they were in the upper fifth of the building, where the most prestigious executive of the company worked and lived, which meant that there was seating in the elevator.

The final 25 floors of the 196 story skyscraper surrounded a massive rotunda and plaza. It was ringed with Bob’s Pizza outlets, and massive glass plates that allowed workers to gaze out into the plaza. In the center of it all was a massive fountain, ringed by seven stone pillars, each of which had a previous owner of the company on it.

Sitting on the fountain’s rim was a man wearing a crisp, red tuxedo. Farmer Joe and the agent walked up to him.

“I expect you are the ones Mr. Jenkins requested?”, the man asked the agent.

“Indeed. My name is Inspector Zachary Sanford of the United States Central Intelligence Agency. I am escorting Farmer Joe to the chambers of Bob Jenkins, as he requested”, the agent replied.

“Wait, I’m seeing Bob Jenkins?!”, Farmer Joe half-shouted in surprise.

“Yes. Come with me”, the tuxedo man said. “I’m his butler, by the way”

The butler led him to a massive glass tube that stretched up out of the rotunda. He pressed a button, and a large glass capsule rose up. A small section of the tube opened up, allowing Farmer Joe and the agent to step in.

“Wait, we don’t need more security checkups?”, Farmer Joe asked in surprise.

“Nope. If anyone wanted to hurt Mr. Jenkins, they would have been caught by now”, the butler replied.

Farmer Joe, Zach, and the butler stepped into the capsule, and sat down in upholstered chairs. “Fasten your seatbelts”, the butler told them. At first, Farmer Joe and Inspector Zachary had no idea why. Then, the capsule began to accelerate.

Farmer Joe felt like he was being crushed, then stretched, then crushed again. It was unpleasant, but he got used to it.
The rotunda fell away in an instant. Suddenly, they were looking over the lights of Plugerville. In the distance, Farmer Joe thought he could just make out his home town. Lights slowly meandered down straight lines: cars on highways. In the distance, the flickering lights of planes shone. Suddenly, Plugerville only appeared to be a tiny, yellow dot, and even that disappeared. Before Farmer Joe knew it, he was looking at the whole of the United States.

They were in orbit.

Farmer Joe and Zach were too stunned and shocked to even speak. The capsule glided past a few old satellites, going towards what appeared to be a massive hunk of rusty metal. Suddenly, bright purple lettering flickered on. BOB’S PIZZA, SPACE STYLE, they read.

“I thought they shut this thing down ages ago”, Farmer Joe murmured in amazement.

Slowly, the capsule docked with an airlock stretching into the spherical pizza parlor. The butler led Farmer Joe and Zach through the airlock.

“You see, we thought that Mr. Jenkins would be too easy of a target on Earth”, the butler said. “He commands the company from here”

Unlike the exterior and airlock, which were filthy and deteriorating, the interior of the space pizza parlor was very clean. It was a fairly large, wood-paneled dome. A circular desk sat in the center, surrounded by holographic screens. Strangely, there was no chair at the desk.

“Where’s Mr. Jenkins?”, Zach asked.

“That would be me. . .”, a disembodied, sexless voice said. One of those boxy computer monitors people used in the 1980s and 90s rose from the floor. A hydraulic arm carefully moved the monitor onto the desk. The monitor displayed a bright green, pixelated image of an older version of the Bob’s pizza logo, the one the company had used from 1979 to 1997.

“I have much to tell you, Farmer Joe”, the computer said.

“I want to speak to Bob Jenkins. Also, how did you know my name?”, Farmer Joe replied.

“I-”, the computer began to speak, but was cut short as the screen glitched. The computer began making strange electronic noises, similar to the noises a computer made when using dial-up internet.

The butler looked horrified. He jumped over the desk, and plugged in a cable that had gotten loose. The moment he did, the screen displayed the text REBOOTING. . .
“This takes awhile”, the butler groaned.

54 minutes later, the screen switched back to the Bob’s Pizza logo.

“Sorry about that”, the computer said. “I need to find away to keep these cables from slipping out. As I was saying to Farmer Joe; I am Bob Jenkins, CEO of Bob’s Pizza, Inc.”

“You’re a computer screen showing an old Bob’s Pizza logo that takes forever to reboot”, Zach said, a hint of annoyance in his voice”

“No. You likely know that the head of Bob’s Pizza has always been called “Bob Jenkins”, ever since our 1906 founding”, the computer said.

“Yeah, but aren’t they just different generations in a family?”, Farmer Joe asked.

“No. As a human, I died in 1985. My mind was transferred into a computer, so that I may govern my company forever”

“That makes no sense! Then again, I’m talking to a pizza chef inside an 80s at an abandoned pizza parlor in space”, Zach said.

“Seen stranger”, Farmer Joe said. “Why did you want me here, anyway?”

“I didn’t summon you. Someone else wanted to see you, and at this particular location”, Bob Jenkins said.

“Who?”, Farmer Joe asked.

“Hello, Farmer Joe”, said Farmer Bob.