Chapter Text
Today on Undercover Boss: Edward Teach is the owner and founder of Blackbeard, a wildly successful greeting cards company, who within recent years has branched off into stationary, party supplies, and more recently even holiday movies. Despite massive success, Blackbeard is still, at its heart, a card making company. And so Edward wants to get hands-on and investigate some of the smaller branches of the company, to see what really goes on in the day-to-day, and what practices might just need to be improved.
The camera opens on Edward Teach, with his familiar dark beard and industry-rejected leather attire. His appearance is familiar to the media, who has enjoyed creating stories of how ‘bad boy Edward’ runs ‘family loved Blackbeard cards’. The camera zooms in on Teach’s disinterested slouch, before focusing on his face, waiting for him to introduce himself.
“Hey everyone, I’m Jeff from accounting.” There is immediately whispering, as producers try to correct his mistake. “What? I thought I’m going to be undercover. It’s not very undercover if I just say who I am, is it?” More whispering. “Ah, alright, fine, whatever. Hello, I’m Edward Teach.”
The camera cuts to a slideshow of Blackbeard as a company, showing popular cards, as well as some of their in-person locations around the world. Edward speaks over the slideshow, clearly reading from cue cards. “I’m the founder of Blackbeard, and I’ve been running this company for the past 15 years. Holidays and family have always been important to me – What? No they haven’t. Okay, I’ll keep reading – have always been important to me, and have remained at the heart of my business. But with the business expanding at such a rapid rate, I feel as if I haven’t been able to connect as well to my true family – The men and women making Blackbeard what it is. So I’m going to be going undercover to see what its really like working for me.”
The camera cut back to Edward, except instead of the leather, he’s wearing a plaid button up shirt, khakis, and has his hair straightened and beard braided. He’s also wearing a fake nose that he scratches at during the entire rest of the interview. The usual scowl is off his face, and he looks genuinely overjoyed to be showing off his ‘fit. “I’m going undercover with the singing cards department as Jeff from Accounting.” He pinches the khakis and stares at the camera. “Look at this shit. Don’t I look like a divorced dad? I’ve never owned khakis in my life! This is fuckin’ mental.”
This time, the producer’s voice is heard, strained. “If we can do the next take without the swearing, please. And maybe don’t mention divorce?”
“Next take? Nah, mate, I’m not doing another take. That’s Jeff’s way. One take Jeff.” Edward gestures at the cameras. “Keep rollin’, this is television gold.”
The camera cuts. It focuses back on Edward, slouching again. He perks up when he realizes he has more lines. “Right, so, I guess I haven’t been on site in – God, maybe 6 or 7 years? But I bet its totally fine. My man Izzy – That’s, uh, Israel Hands – Yeah, I know he checks in with these guys, and he’s a real hardass. I bet when we get there, it’ll be great. We run a tight ship here at Blackbeard. You’ll see.”
The camera cuts to Edward entering a rather plain looking office building, and gesturing the camera man to follow him. He keeps making theatrical gestures to the camera as he goes about ordinary tasks – Wiggling his eyebrows as he gets his employee ID checked, and swinging around a pole on the way to the elevator. He gets bored of the lack of reaction as they wait for the elevator to reach the 14th floor. As it ticks closer, there is distant sounds of screaming. Edward chuckles, nervously. “I’m sure that’s just – The singing cards?”
The elevator doors open to pandemonium. The screaming is definitely not from a greeting card, and instead from a man dressed as a pirate, running away from a much larger man wielding a form sword. As the camera swings around, trying to take it all in, a desk on wheels comes crashing into the elevator. A few seconds later, a man, also dressed as a pirate, comes running after it. “Oh my god, I’m so sorr – Oh?” He pauses and stares between the camera and Edward. “Is this some new surveillance thing? Because if so, you have no consent to use my face, and I WILL sue.”
Edward wiggles out from behind the desk. It’s been decorated with construction paper to look like a pirate ship. He seems speechless at the whole affair. “Uh. No. I’m Jeff. From Accounting. And they’re doing a – Documentary. About accounting.”
The other man stares at Edward, squints, and then shrugs. “Well, in that case, make sure you get my good side.” He winks at the camera, then helps Edward push the desk back into the office, and escape before the elevator doors close. “Sorry about all of this. This week we’re doing the sea shanty card collection, and Stede got – A little too into it. I’m Lucius, by the way. The secretary.”
Edward looks at the camera, askance. As he does so, a man in a multi-layered, period accurate costume comes up to Lucius, initially missing Edward and the camera. “Lucius, do you have any idea where the Swede is? Frenchie is waiting on him to do the vocals, and all Black Pete is saying is that he heard him ‘sobbing in the bathroom’.”
“Oh, well, yeah, that’s ‘cause he is. I think he lost his voice or something.” Lucius rolls his eyes. “Talent. Anyway, I have some notes for you.” The man plucks a few sticky notes off the pirate desk. The camera catches a few doodles of dicks adorning each and every one of them. “Jim brought in an actual dagger to work, and keeps threatening to stab anyone who tries to take it away. Lucille from the thirteenth floor has called four different times to complain about the sound of scraping, which.” Lucius stares meaningfully down at the desks on wheels. “Might have something to do with us. And oh. Jeff from Accounting is here, and he brought cameras.”
Stede glances over toward the camera and his entire face changes. He skips gleefully over, and begins to wring Edward’s hand. “Oh, of course! I’m so sorry about all this, I only just got the call you were coming. And you!” Stede grabs for the cameraman’s hand, despite the cameraman clearly not wanting to get any part of them in frame. “What a wonderful documentary you’re doing about accountants. You’re going to make the world a better place. I can tell you, I don’t know one thing about accounting.”
“They work with numbers, I think.” Lucius adds helpfully.
“Well, I know one thing about accounting then.” Now that he knows he’s on camera, Stede seems to believe he needs to put up an act every moment the lene is trained on him. He gives a painful wink toward the camera. “I’m learning so much already.”
Edward has been gobsmacked ever since the elevator doors opened, and steps forward in a desperate attempt to gain the power back. “Lucius was just telling us that its – Sea shanty week? And that’s why you’re all dressed up?”
“Oh. Yes! It’s a bit of a morale boost, isn’t it? We’ve decided on a sea shanty themed line of greeting cards, to go for a more nautical theme this spring, and we thought – Well, wouldn’t it be fun if we really got into it?” Stede models his outfit, proudly. “We’re all pirates, see? And we’ve put the desks on wheels, so we can really feel free to use the space like it’s the open sea, and everyone has just been getting really into it. They really like the foam swords I’ve bought.” The camera zooms in behind Stede’s shoulders as two men go sailing towards one another like knights jousting, foam swords held at the ready. The desks collide with a loud ‘SMACK’, and both men fall to the ground with matching groans.
“Ah.” Edward says, faintly. “And, sorry, who were you again?”
“Stede! Bonnet. Stede Bonnet.” Stede offers his hand to Edward yet again. “Although today I’m the Gentleman Pirate.” He waits, proudly, in case there’s a reaction to the name. When nothing but silence meets his words, he barrels on. “I’m the manager here for the singing cards department. Been working here for 6 years. Have my own office and everything.” He gestures toward a door that has been decorated like a lighthouse. “I’m kinda the boss here and everything, but don’t worry. I’m the cool boss. Fun guy. Like, the buddy. You know, we’re all buddies around here. We all share our feelings and what not. Just a real close-knit team.” Stede elbows Edward, familiarly. Edward stares. “I bet you know what I mean, being from accounting. They seem like a bunch of charmers. I mean – You must be! With a documentary being made and everything.”
Something crashes from further in the office space, and Lucius clears his throat. “I guess I should go see what that is, then.” He eyes Edward, then back to Stede. “Good luck with – This.” He sits at the desk and awkwardly scoots it in the direction of the crash. The camera follows his every move until he’s out of frame.
There’s some silence, before Stede turns back to Edward. “Well! Would you like to meet the crew? Get it, ‘cause pirates? Like we’re a crew?” Stede laughs. “Good fun, good fun. Anyway, come on! I’ll introduce you.”
The camera follows Edward closely as Stede leads them further into the office. Everything is a mess, with desks scattered every which way. Stede is certainly the most dressed up of all the workers, with some wearing normal street clothes, and others wearing low-budget eye patches and pirate hats. Everyone gives strange looks to Edward and the camera, and the first group that Stede approaches tries discreetly to slide their desks away, but Stede keeps pursing them until he’s directly on them.
“Here is our Marketing department!” Stede gestures. One man is staring straight into the camera, as if he’s never been filmed before. The other man looks much more casual, especially for a man with his shirt off, and a seagull on his head. “Buttons. Um. Remember what we said about the shirt.”
“But I’m a pirate, sir. Everyone knows pirates were naked. I’m just tryin’ to commune with nature.”
“Yes, well, I don’t know if you’re right about the naked pirates thing. And I’m sure can commune with nature on our lunch break.” Stede clears his throat, and with a sigh, the man he called Buttons begins to put on a shirt. Miraculously, the bird stays on his head as he does so. “This here is Buttons – And Karl, who is our office mascot, in a sense. And, of course, Black Pete. Black Pete, Buttons, meet Jeff the Accountant. He’s here because they’re doing a documentary about accountants. Isn’t that exciting?”
“I used to be an accountant.” The man called Black Pete blurts, still staring straight into the camera. He hasn’t blinked once.
“Oh! Is that true?” Stede blinks a few times to make up for Black Pete. “I thought you were in prison for a while.”
“Well. I was. And then I was an accountant.” Black Pete finally looks at Stede, instead of the camera. “And then me and Blackbeard became best friends, and I agreed to work here, instead of being a famous gang leader, like I was going to be.”
Edward shoots the camera a confused look and a shrug. Stede is too focused on Black Pete to notice. “And we appreciate every day that you decided to go on the straight and narrow. You’re a vital member of our team.”
“Yeah, I know.” Black Pete flushes. “Anyway, hey or whatever Jeff the accountant. And hey, accounting cameraman.”
The camera swings toward the other group of desks, as if expecting that they’re going to go there next, but then swings back when Edward hasn’t moved. He’s just staring at Karl the seagull. “Is Karl real?”
“That he is, sir.” Buttons intones regally. “He sends his warm regards.”
“Sick. I’ve never worked with a bird before.”
“I hope you’re not allergic?” Stede fidgets from beside Edward. He’s gone unnoticed in the exchange. “I know there’s company policy about cats and dogs in office, but it never mentioned birds, and Karl is really well behaved. But if you have any problems – ”
“Nah, mate, I think its great.” Edward has begun to smile. He hasn’t asked a single question about the work they’re meant to be doing, just taking the entire office in. On their way past Buttons’ desk, Edward nabs a plastic pirate hat covered in bird poop, and proudly dons it.
“And this is our Sales team!” Stede gestures. The two people sat at desks are mostly not dressed up, although the more ambiguous one has a real dagger stabbed into their desk. They don’t look up as Edward and the camera approaches. Only the man with the friendly smile does. “Jim and Oluwande. Guys, this is Jeff the accountant. He’s here for – ”
“We could hear you when you were at Marketing, the office isn’t that big.” Oluwande offers his hand to Edward for a genuine handshake. “Nice to meet you, Jeff. Welcome aboard. Sorry you came at a weird time.”
“It’s not a weird time! It’s an exciting time!” As Stede speaks, a man’s desk rolls past and he slams into the wall. He staggers off the desk and wavers in place. “Oh, perfect timing. Roach, roll that desk on over here. Jeff, meet Roach. He’s one of our content editors. And a chef! You have to try that orange cake of his one of these days. To die for.”
“Ah, no, I’m still learning.” Roach waves Stede away. “I’m sure they don’t want to hear about it.”
“Oh, no, you’ve got to hear his story some time!” Stede glances at the camera earnestly. “He taught himself to cook while he was in prison. A real rags to riches story.” Stede clearly doesn’t know what rags to riches means. “He’s a big inspiration here. And he and Wee John brew their own beer! They also started doing that in prison. Could you imagine that? Learning to make your own beer in prison?”
Jim speaks up for the first time since Stede led them over. They are still bent over their work, not looking up at the camera once. “Anyone can make their own alcohol in prison. It’s just shit.”
“What me and Wee John make is not shit!” Roach exclaims, offended. “We’ve mastered the art of brewing.”
“Yeah, in a toilet. High dining.”
To break the tension and get the eyes back on him, Edward snorts. “What, so are all of you ex-cons?”
Stede gazes back, eyes wide. “No! Not all! I mean – Not Oluwande.”
Oluwande blinks a few times, surprised to be brought up when he was just fading into the background again. “Um, actually, yes I am. Me and Jim were cellmates before we got out, remember?”
“Oh.” Stede glances around the office. “Well then, yeah. I guess all. I believe in second chances here, and everyone has been such fantastic members of staff. Except Stan the Can, but he was unfortunately let go a few months back.”
“Ah, Stan.” Roach nods sorrowfully. “He was a master with the graffiti, though. The bathroom stalls have never been the same.”
“He drew some very anatomically correct penises.” Oluwande shrugs. “Really varied, too. Makes you wonder what he was up to behind closed doors.”
“Yeah. If only he hadn’t tried to use the office as a way to launder money.” Stede sighs, then looks back at Edward. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear all this, though.”
“Oh, no, this is fascinating.” Edward waves Stede forward. “I’d love to know more about Stan the Can.” The camera moves a little closer as the cameraman mutters something in Edward’s ear. He rolls his eyes, but asks obediently, “can you tell me more about the sea shanty cards you’re working on?”
“Oh, yes! Of course! Well, that was just where I was going, too. We’ve got this great little recording studio that I set up myself, really high tech stuff.” Stede begins to move, and Edward and the camera follow him. He leads them to what is clearly a redecorated closet. “Ah. This is where the magic happens.”
Stede, Edward, and the camera all cram into the closet. There’s a man with a guitar sitting inside, who stands the moment Stede enters. “Where were you?! I’ve been waiting for the Swede to get in for an hour now. We’re supposed to record all these songs and I haven’t seen him once!”
“Ah.” Stede clears his throat. “Right. Well, first things first – Frenchie, meet Jeff the accountant. Jeff, meet Frenchie. He’s both our graphics guy, but he also plays a number of instruments, so he helps with a lot of our songs.”
Frenchie nods at Edward and gives the camera only a brief glance, before turning back to Stede. “If you can’t find the Swede soon, I need to get back to work. I’m still working on that cat card, and after your last round of comments, I have some editing to do.”
“I just thought the audience might be a little confused why the cats had knives for feet.”
“It’s cause they’re witches, isn’t it? Why do they need a reason?”
Stede stares at Frenchie, then over to the camera. Realizing once more that he’s on TV, he puts on a forced smile and laughs, despite nothing funny being said. “Well, we’ll figure all that out later. Why don’t I go find the Swede, okay? Jeff, why don’t you stay here and Frenchie can show off our new digs.” He gestures at the equipment the closet has to offer. “Digs means here. This is the digs. The equipment is the digs. Its basically hip new slang.”
“Oh, no.” Edward grins dangerously at Stede. “I’m having way too much fun. We’ll come with you. Help look for – The Swede, is it? Is that his – Nationality?”
“Well, yes, but its also his name. I think its his prison name? I’m sure we have his real name. Somewhere. On pay checks maybe.” Stede doesn’t seem sure about that. “But I promise, that’s what he prefers to be called. We have a big antibullying policy here.”
Edward snorts, but follows Stede out on the hunt for the Swede. As they’re leaving, the large man with the foam sword that they first noticed upon entering the floor comes into view. He’s holding a costume and looks on the verge of tears. “BlackPetesrefusingtowearthecostume!”
“Okay, slow down.” Stede gestures and takes a large breath in, and a large breath out. The other man follows suit. “Okay, take it from the top. What’s happening?”
“Well. Black Pete said he wasn’t going to dress up this week, since he didn’t have anything pirate-y to wear.”
“I remember.”
“And so I said I’d make him something, right? And I’ve been working all week on this, just so he’d have something to wear, and now he refuses to wear it! He says it makes him look silly!” The man’s voice goes higher. “I made it myself, with my own two hands, and he says it’s silly.”
“Well now, let me see it.” Stede takes the costume and holds it up. Its certainly not well made, and the attempted skull and crossbones resembles an exploding planet, but Stede cradles it as if its made of lace. He examines it closely, nodding as he does so. “Wow. Wee John, just – Wow. You know what? I think I know why Black Pete refuses to wear this. It’s art. He doesn’t want to ruin art. You know, maybe I should change into this, if he doesn’t want to wear it. I could –”
“No!” Wee John snatches it away with a newfound artistic pride, and clutches the fabric close. “I tailored it for Black Pete specifically. You’d ruin the lines.”
“Oh, right.” Stede looks down at himself. “No, of course, you’re right.”
“I’ll hang it up.” Wee John pats it proudly. “Maybe in the conference room. It deserves to be looked at.”
“That’s a great idea!” Edward clears his throat, and Stede remembers he’s there. He pats Edward’s shoulder, and gestures at Wee John. “Wee John, meet Jeff. He’s an accountant, and he’s here doing a documentary. I bet he’d like a pirate costume from you. He didn’t have any heads up about our themed week.”
Wee John begins to eye up Edward. Edward lets out a nervous chuckle. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to be a bother, I’m sure I could –”
“You’ve got a good figure. I can work with you. Do you have any aversion to leather?” Wee John waves away any response Edward could possibly give. “Don’t answer. I’m putting you in leather. I can already see that black is going to be your color.”
Wee John flounces away, and Edward just stares after him, caught off-guard. Stede begins his trek through the hallway, toward the bathrooms. There is a high-pitched crying emanating from the male bathrooms. Stede pushes through and Edward and the camera follow. There’s something blurred out on the first bathroom stall, but it seems as if it might be the remnant of Stan the Can’s dick graffiti. The sobbing is coming from the last stall on the end.
“Swede, is that you?” Stede calls. “It’s me. Stede. Bonnet.” He gives the camera a nervous smile. “I mean, Stede Bonnet, your boss. You know me. Yeah. Anyway, um, what’s wrong, mate? Frenchie is waiting for you to perform. He said he’s been waiting for almost an hour.”
“I can’t!” The voice that answers is scratchy and weak. “I’m a fraud! A charlatan!”
“No, you’re none of those things.” Stede waves Edward over, and whispers under his breath. “Tell the Swede that he isn’t a fraud.”
Edward stares. “What?”
“You know, validation. Tell him he’s not a fraud.”
Edward glances back at the camera, shrugs, and then calls, “I don’t think you’re a fraud, mate.”
There’s a pause. The Swede calls, “who’s that?”
“Um.” Edward looks back at Stede, who nods encouragingly. “Jeff. From Accounting.”
“Oh.” The Swede processes this information. “You don’t think I’m a fraud, Jeff?”
Edward approaches the stall door, slowly. “Nah, mate. I think, from the very very little I know about you, that you’re – Totally not a fraud. You’re the real deal. In fact, I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. Through a door. I’ve never met anyone through a bathroom stall quite like you before.”
There’s sniffling, and then the door opens to reveal the Swede. He looks at Edward, hopefully. “You really mean that, Jeff?”
“Oh, yeah. Totally.” Edward stiffens as the Swede pulls him into a hug. Awkwardly, he pats the Swede’s back. “It’s nice – To meet you.”
“Come on, Swede, tell us what the problem is.” Stede encourages when Edward finally wiggles away and joins Stede’s side again. “Why have you been crying? Why do you feel like you’re a fraud?”
“It’s – My voice!” The Swede gives another small sob. “I’ve lost it. I can never sing again.”
“Was it the flu you were coming down with yesterday?” Stede guesses. The Swede nods, slowly. “Oh, mate, I sent you home with tea, didn’t I? Why didn’t you drink the tea?”
“It had orange zest in it. I hate oranges.”
“Well. Maybe next time you’ll drink it anyway.” Stede sighs. “Well, never mind all that, if you can’t sing, you can’t sing. Bugger it. No one has a voice quite as angelic as yours. Well, maybe we can do some instrumental only sea shanties. Push the envelope a little. We could market them as sing-along or something.”
Edward, who has continued to edge away from Swede since the hug, speaks up, “well, it’s a sea shanty, so why not have the whole team help out?”
“What?” Both the Swede and Stede look back at Edward as if he’s speaking a different language. Edward looks surprised.
“Well, sea shanties were just random pirates singing songs to keep them entertained, right? And you’ve got a whole office full of pseudo pirates, right?” Stede nods. “So just get everyone in on it. The more people singing, the less you notice if anyone is any good or not.”
“Oh, wow. Is that true? Is that really what a sea shanty is?” Stede looks over to the Swede, who nods encouragingly. “I could have sworn it was operatic. Well, that really changes things. If that’s true, then – yeah! We can definitely get everyone involved. We’ll have to teach them some lyrics, but – I know! I can make cue cards!” The more Stede talks, the more his eyes light up. “Oh, wow Jeff, that’s such a great idea. I said that accountants have great ideas. I say that all the time, don’t I Swede?”
“I’ve never once heard you say that.”
“I must say it to myself, then. In private.” Stede clears his throat. “That’s perfect! I could just kiss you, Jeff. Alright. I’ll have to – Yes. Perfect!”
Stede rushes off, leaving the camera, Edward, and the Swede. The Swede looks at Edward. “So, you’ve never met anyone quite like me before, huh? Are you single?” The camera cuts quickly.
The camera comes back to Stede shepherding the entire office into the tiny closet space. Edward is off to the side, with the camera, watching it all go down. “Oh yeah, it’s an absolute trainwreck. Way worse than I ever thought. I looked at the marketing plans, and they’re meant to have 25 unique designs, each with a different song. And I think they’re going to be lucky if they record one.” Edward turns to the camera, smile wide. “But I don’t know. I think there’s something here.” He looks back, and the camera catches him gazing at Stede, as the man pulls out a cue card and helps the team sound out words.
“Hey, Jeff, are you coming? We’re gonna need you for the bridge!” Stede calls. Edward waves.
“Yeah, I’m coming!” Edward looks back at the camera and shares a conspiratorial smile. “I think I can fix this.”