((Private))
Fernando Armando Hernando Rolando Fernández sat at his desk in his luxurious office at one of his more profitable factories outside Madrid. His official headquarters was actually in the capital, but he preferred from time to time to work at his many businesses and factories. It allowed him to keep a closer eye on them and ensure everything ran smoothly. It was always good to take a more hands-on approach to one's business to ensure things ran exactly as planned, but also to ensure no corrupt upstart employees worked against him. It was best to be vigilant when a single mistake or problem could bring down an entire financial empire.
As he was busy writing up a memo for himself, the manager of the factory, Mr. Suarez, entered the office. He plopped himself down in a velvet-lined chair next to the desk and adjusted his large spectacles. He then placed a report down on the desk. "I have the latest figures, sir."
Fernando glanced down at the paper but did not pick it up. "And?"
"Profits are up 5% this quarter."
"5%?" Fernando said, stopping his quill mid-sentence in his writing. "That is unacceptable. I want that number doubled--no tripled--by the next quarter."
Mr. Suarez looked at a few more of his reports. "There was also an accident on the factory floor the other day. One of the workers injured his leg. He's hoping for some time off to recover."
"Well does his job require much walking?"
"He's part of the assembly line. He doesn't move from his spot for his entire shift."
Fernando put down his quill and rested his hands on the desk. "Good. Tell him if he doesn't show up to work tomorrow, he's fired. I don't tolerate lazy louts."
Mr. Suarez's lip curled up in a cheeky smirk. "Very well, sir. There is also a Mr. Sanchez to see you."
Fernando furrowed his brow. Did he know anyone by that name? He plucked his agenda off the mess of paper on his desk, looking over his list of meetings. No Sanchez there. "And who is this Mr. Sanchez?"
"He's one of the factory workers. Says he has an idea for how to boost production."
Glancing again at his agenda, Fernando popped his golden pocket watch out and checked the time. He had ten minutes free until his next meeting. Why not humour this worker. "Let him in."
Mr. Suarez crinkled his nose as he rose from his seat and opened the office door. The man had such great distaste for the factory workers. Of course that worked well whenever Fernando wanted him to push the workers harder, but could cause problems when he decided some interaction with his employees was needed. The capitalist tried not to laugh at the grimace nearly consuming Mr. Suarez's face as Mr. Sanchez entered the room. The worker seemed in his mid-30s, was well-built, and had clearly just wiped a bunch of grease off his face. He smiled politely and bowed his head as he entered.
"Mr. Suarez said you had some ideas for how to boost production?"
Sanchez nodded emphatically and tried to reply, but ended up stuttering out some nonsense. Fernando didn't have time for this. "Well spit it out. Time is money."
"Yes, sir," Sanchez finally said. He rifled through his back pocket and pulled out a wad of paper, which he unfolded to reveal an incredibly detailed mechanical sketch. He laid it out on an empty spot of Fernando's desk. "I've been studying the machines, sir, and noticed some improvements that could be made to make them work faster. I drew this diagram up to show the changes that could be applied."
Fernando spent a good minute going over the sketch. He was no engineer, but he couldn't help but admire the detail and workmanship. This common factory worker seemed to know what he was doing. "Are you trained as an engineer or did you just whip this up out of nothing?"
Sanchez gulped and then replied, "I have no formal training, sir, but I've been working with that machine for over five years and know it inside and out. I've noticed a few of its flaws and I did my best to study it to find out the best way to fix it."
The diagram certainly spoke of an intimate knowledge of the machine in question. "And when did you take the time to study this machine so intimately?"
"Only during my lunch break, sir; never during my shift."
"Are you on your break right now?"
"Yes, sir."
Fernando smirked. That was the kind of answer he liked to hear. He could appreciate a man that aspired to go beyond his duties. "Good man."
The capitalist took another moment to look over the sketch. Nearby, Mr. Suarez shuffled awkwardly in his seat. The constant fidgeting couldn't help but draw Fernando's attention. After yet another squeak of the man's chair, Fernando asked, "What is it, Mr. Suarez?"
The manager leaned on the desk, bringing his face close enough to Fernando's that the capitalist could smell the scent of stale cigars on his breath. "Should we really be listening to some lowly factory worker when it comes to these machines? What if his 'improvements' break the damn thing? Profits will plummet in no time."
Fernando grabbed his cane from beside the chair, something he kept with him always, for he had developed a limp during his time on the street. He rose from his seat, towering over his inferior. "Mr. Suarez, how much time have you spent with the machine in question."
Mr. Suarez sputtered for a bit. "Well none--"
"Exactly." Fernando stepped around his desk, moving up next to Sanchez. "This man here has spent the better part of five years working with that machine. I trust he'd know how it works by now."
"But think of the costs!" Mr. Suarez said, his face growing red.
Fernando ignored the manager and turned to Sanchez. "How much do you think these improvements will boost production?"
Sanchez thought over it for a moment, swirling his mouth around in thought. "I imagine it'd save roughly 2-3 seconds on the assembly line."
Mr. Suarez let out a short guffaw. "2-3 second! I'll have this man tossed out for you."
Before Mr. Suarez could escort Sanchez from the room, Fernando raised his cane to block him. "Mr. Suarez, how good are you at math?"
"I wouldn't be very good with the finances if I wasn't good at math."
Fernando started to pace the room, both of the men watching him move. "Let's say it takes roughly a minute for a single item to make its way through the assembly line. So that would be 60 items in an hour, or 900 in a 15-hour workday. In a six-day work week, that would be 5400 items. Now taking into consideration Mr. Sanchez's improvement, each item would take 57 seconds instead. In an hour, we'd have made approximately 63 items, give or take. By the end of the day, 947. In a week, 5684. So, Mr. Suarez, a measly 2-3 seconds can bolster our production by a little over 5% per week. Are my numbers correct?"
Mr. Suarez's mouth dropped and he struggled for a reply. Sanchez hid a smirk as he kept his head bowed. As for Fernando, he had no time to humour the manager. Turning to Sanchez, he said, "Mr. Sanchez, tomorrow you shall be tasked with implementing these improvements of yours. I expect it will not take longer than a day to implement."
"Of course not, sir. It should take only a few hours at most."
"Excellent," Fernando said. Snapping his fingers at the manager, he added, "Mr. Suarez, you are to provide this man with all materials and labour he needs to complete these improvements."
"You aren't seriously going to shut down production for a few hours for this? What if it doesn't work?"
"If it doesn't work, then Mr. Sanchez here with lose his job," Fernando said with cold efficiency. The worker gulped nervously and a smirk momentarily appeared on Mr. Suarez's face. "However, Mr. Suarez, if we experience a 5% boost in production, I find that Mr. Sanchez here will surely be deserving of a raise, and a bonus if necessary."
"There's no room for employee bonuses in the budget," Mr. Suarez complained.
"Then it will come out of your pay." Fernando had had enough of the manager's insolence. The man may run his factory, but all decisions ultimately came down to Fernando. Turning away from his manager in disgust, he offered his hand to Mr. Sanchez, who eagerly shook it. He left a smudge of grease on the capitalist's hand, but Fernando subtly wiped it off with a hanky. "Mr. Sanchez, I always make it a practice to award those hardworking men who put the needs of the company first. I can't help but admire a man such as you who wishes to see this factory succeed, and that you'd do your best to improve it in your own spare time. Such behaviour reminds me of, well, me at a younger age. I expect you will go far in this industry with your attitude."
Sanchez's smile nearly peeled off his face it was so wide. "Thank you so very much, sir." The whistle then blew, signalling the end of the lunch break. Sanchez bowed his head to Fernando and said, "Well I must be going then. Back to work."
"That's a good man," Fernando said as his employee left the office and returned to the assembly line. When he was out of earshot, Fernando turned to Mr. Suarez and said, "Keep an eye on that man. I might have to give him a promotion in the near future."
Mr. Suarez scowled, for surely no common worker deserved such treatment. "But we have no openings for such a man."
Fernando pulled out his pocket watch, realizing he needed to get going to his next meeting. As he opened the office door, he turned back to the manager and said, "Well there's always your job." With a smirk on his face, he left his inferior to wallow in his own doubts and fears.
STOP! COOKIE TIME