This article is part of the Memos from Bear Cave series.

TO: All Employees of Bear Cave Soup Co.
DATE: February 20, 1980
SUBJECT: Defections

I have received resignation letters from three employees today informing me they are leaving Bear Cave to work across the building for Man's Reach. Let me just say something to these traitors and anyone else thinking of following suit: forget about your promissory soup bonds ever maturing. You could have made a fortune, but you left it all behind to go work for Bob Hutch, a man who can't tell a good can of soup from his own ass, let alone please his wife.

Good riddance.

TO: All Employees of Bear Cave Soup Co.
DATE: February 21, 1980
SUBJECT: New Project

Bob Hutch and his boys have been tearing this place up and I've had enough. First he runs all the stray dogs out, which provided a valuable service protecting the soupyards from hobos and teenage thrill seekers, and now he's got exterminators crawling around killing off our rats and cockroaches.

I've worked hard to create a delicate balance of bugs and vermin, one that's not only scientifically sound but financially genius. You remove just one roach or one rat from the equation and the whole thing falls apart, and the flavor of our soup goes down the toilet.

So here's the plan: we're going to burn Man's Reach to the ground. If you go out back to my special shed, you'll find 4 garbage cans full of gasoline I've been saving for a special occasion. This is that special occasion. Get it and start pouring it around their side of the office. DISCRETELY.

Make sure the fire does not spread to our half of the office. For various reasons including supposed "building code violations" we don't have any insurance.

TO: All Employees of Bear Cave Soup Co.
DATE: February 21, 1980
SUBJECT: Change of Plans

I've been informed by my instrument of vengeance, Ðâng Lành, that the gasoline I was saving has gone bad. If I had a time machine I would go back and not buy those four garbage cans of gas from that no-good Filipino. That's the first and only thing I would do with my time machine.

Nobody better disturb me today. I'm dedicating all my ample mental energies to coming up with the perfect way to ruin Bob Hutch's life.

TO: All Employees of Bear Cave Soup Co.
DATE: February 22, 1980
SUBJECT: New Safety Policy

As I've said all along, we here at Bear Cave are a family. More than that, we're a team led by a man with incomparable leadership skills: me. Today your leader has been stabbed in the heart by a cowardly little man named Bob Hutch, whose dimwitted children are likely not his own, who drives a tiny Japanese car instead of a large American one like me, who believes in putting "herbs" and other womanly things in his soups and deboning and cooking the meats he uses instead of letting their natural flavors and gristle shine.

Bob Hutch has hired my two idiot rockabilly sons to work for him. I had intended that both of them would die on the streets, but now they are employed and allowed to wander the building I built with my bare hands.

I cannot advocate murder, but if someone were to murder Bob Hutch, they would be generously awarded (I have a trophy just waiting to be engraved with the murderer's name) and given a promotion once any jail sentences were finished. More importantly, they would have earned my respect.

In an unrelated note, I have decided to be proactive in regards to America's recent increase in violent crime and implemented a new safety policy. I'll be leaving loaded firearms around the building should you need to fend off any intruders who threaten your safety or livelihood.

– Josh "Livestock" Boruff (@Livestock)

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