This isn't just some run-of-the-mill tale of terrible management or garden-variety workplace selfishness. No, no” this isn't about your average butt-snorkeling coworker. This, at its core, is a love story. A tale of two techno-mages, bound by destiny, deep in the throes of a completely normal, 100% heterosexual, definitely-not-gay man love.

This story begins when the noble Tech Knight finally escapes the cursed realm of Dumbwerx and takes a job offer from a Hogheaded Tech Wizard.

Now, this wasn't just any wizard no, this was a minivan-driving, self-proclaimed visionary who had only recently upgraded from a "complete loser" to "almost not a complete loser." A man of great contradictions, like many totally straight, absolutely-not-repressing-anything hogheaded men with erectile dysfunction-he seemed fair, yet felt foul.

But what could a battle-hardened Tech Knight who had survived the eldritch horrors of Dumbwerx possibly have to fear? He had nothing to lose, and at the very least, this was bound to be an incredible story.

Part 1 the back story

The tale of Barby and Bobber

To truly understand this saga, we must travel back to a time when Barby was not yet the Filipino Princess nor the Supreme Derriare Devotee. No, back then, he was just a long-haired rear-end realtor, constantly on the lookout for prime real estate to plant his lips on” especially if the owner had power over him.

The great god Pan tolerated him but never truly favored him. Even the deity himself cringed at Barby's excessive subservience to perceived father figures and his embarrassingly basic frat-boy antics.

And then, one fateful day, Barby met Bobber the hogheaded, minivan-driving cuck of legend. Now, Barby wasn't usually the type to pucker up for just anyone who wasn't his direct superior. But, dear reader, that day it was sycophancy at first sight. He gazed upon Bobber's thick, glistening ham hocks and knew ”deep in his heart, and possibly in other places,” he loved this Hoghead.

With love in his eyes and bacon grease on his lips, Barby listened as Bobber whispered sweet promises,” dreams of a future where they could both ascend to the lofty status of almost not losers. But this dream came with a price. Barby would have to pledge himself to Bobber, dedicating his life to kissing his enormous, unwashed, pork-scented backside. In return, Bobber vowed to make him feel consequential and unique, to keep him well-fed with an endless supply of bacon and pork chops, and to make people pretend to like him.

The Grand Plan

Bobber had big ambitions. He sought dominion over a vast kingdom,” a legendary US help desk of three, maybe even five, employees. And who knew? If this conquest succeeded, he might finally feel like an absolute boss. Maybe then, just perhaps, he'd stop being a cuck in a minivan.

Alas, some curses run too deep. Some fates are inescapable, like being a cuck who drives a minivan.

Bobber, however, knew he could never rule his mighty domain through competence or by being a decent human being. And Barby? Well, he wasn't precisely a paragon of leadership, either. A darker plan was needed, something genuinely insidious.

And so, the Hogheaded Cuck devised his most wicked scheme yet: he would turn Barby into almost a woman and start a cult.

Thus, the Cult of Tasty Ham Hocks was born, at least on paper. The world of three to five people would never be the same.

You see, Bobber was a terrible mage with even worse intentions, no matter how sweet and hammy his words were. His ultimate goal? To drain Barby of every last drop of his manly energy.

And so, with his soft, glistening ham hocks, Bobber pulled Barby deeper into his Bacon Love Spell. Now, this was no small feat Barby was a powerful mage in his own right, having served the Tower of Flyswat for much longer than Bobber. He was a seasoned expert at swatting flies (metaphorically and literally), and in basically every way, he was superior to Bobber except, of course, when it came to bacon-based mind control and pretending to be a decent person.

Bobber drained Barby of all his masculine energy until this is rated PG-13, so let's say things happened. Moving on.

The Plan is Born

Even after sucking out nearly every ounce of Barby's manly essence, Bobber found he could only hold onto it for a few measly seconds. That's right.” Even with all of Barby's power, Bobber could only last seconds.

Later that night, as they basked in the afterglow of their totally-not-sexual, absolutely-not-gay energy exchange, they had a revelation.

What if they used Bobber's immense authority over his new vast empire of 5-8 employees to create a revolving door of fresh male energy for Bobber to siphon?

Even better, they could force people to be nice to Barby a lifelong dream of his since middle school. They could start a cult where people had to validate their egos, worship their leadership, and partake in non-touch circle jerks over video calls whenever they pleased.

Thus, the Cult of Tasty Ham Hocks was born not on paper.

The Revolving Door

The plan was simple: turn the Tower of Flyswat into a hiring meat grinder.

Barby watched in glee, knowing that anyone who got the job would inevitably fail unless they pretended to like him. And since he and Bobber were mostly non-gay partners, their success was unquestionable because they constantly reminded each other of their greatness through sexy-time phone calls.

Meanwhile, Bobber assured their great god Pan that the problem wasn't them, but rather all these incompetent new hires.

Bobber explained to Pan that we need to churn through a few more batches of employees. Eventually, we'll find the perfect cult members, or did he say, employees? Who can say what powerful men and a god-like Pan say behind closed doors?

To maintain control, they created a fake leadership structure, where people were given the prestigious rank of Leader title that, in reality, meant doing Bobbers job for him. It was the corporate equivalent of two blind men giving toddlers car keys and calling them a chauffeur, but for some inexplicable reason, it worked.

Now lets set the stage for the pigsty The techno knight would walk into.

Among the devoted followers were:

The Blue-Haired Tuah Hawk, fresh out of mage school, madly in love with Bobber's power over four whole people. She was the most fanatical of them all.

Generic Asian Lady called a Leader mostly because the great god Pan liked her. More on that cruel, goat-headed deity later.

The Nervous Islander is terrified of getting fired and willing to say or do anything to avoid the cult's wrath. A useful tool in the hands of evil mages.

The Fake-Happy Old Man is a true wild card. Who knows what this one was really thinking? It's probably about how to keep this fantastic cult gig.

The Central American Mage enjoyed working from his own remote tower since he was a Leader.

Wishes-He-Was-a-Doctor Guy, an engineer (kind of) who longed for his mommy's validation.

Bobber a minivan-driving, self-proclaimed visionary who had only recently upgraded from a "complete loser" to "almost not a complete loser." cuck.

The techno Knight, yep, if you think these images are unfair, make your own blog

Barby The fully transformed Filipino Princess, the Supreme Derriare Devotee.

A Suspicious Start

On day one, the Techno Knight immediately sensed something was off.

Bobber's team sat in complete silence. This massive team of three to five people did not speak to each other all day. When he asked about it, Bobber the Hogheaded Cuck in a Minivan grew furious and barked:

They will only open their mouths to receive my bacon's holy sacrament or praise me and the great god Pan!

Super weird.

Now, Bobber was used to being feared by newly graduated mages, but the Techno Knight, having worked with actual scary people, just saw him as a ridiculous little pig who had never fully grown up.

I mean, the Techno Knight mused. I'd try to act tough, too, if I were a cucked-out minivan driver who only recently became slightly less of a loser. He is Harmless in every aspect of life but at work so now its show time.

But the day was still young.

The Techno Knight had a scheduled call with the number two cult leader the right-hand man of Bobber. (See above for how this unholy alliance came to be.) The meeting was titled "Getting to Know You."

How bad could it be?

Enter: The Filipino Princess

Holy. Shit.

It was a grade-A dumpster fire.

For four agonizing hours, Barby, the Filipino Princess and Supreme Derriare Devotee, ranted about how amazing he was at Flyswat spells.

Call the Techno Knight old-fashioned, but competent people usually don't make satirical cartoons about their excellence or talk about how great they are for four straight hours. (The exception being, of course, extreme narcissists.)

At this point, you might be wondering:

Why didn't the Techno Knight just run away?

Well, you see, the Techno Knight was stubborn. He believed foolishly that he could fix stupid.

He has since learned never to fight stupid people, because they will beat you with their vast experience.

It was then that the cult sprang into action

The Cult was determined to induct the brave techno knight into the sacred order of Tasty Ham Hocks. They started small simple things, like asking him to pretend that Barbie, the Filipino princess and Supreme Derriare devotee, wasn’t an absolute nightmare to talk to. But soon, their demands escalated. Before he knew it, they were urging him to engage in increasingly bizarre rituals like practicing his kissing technique on raw pork

The Bacon bit that collapsed the salad

One day, while diligently performing his techno-knightly duties, the Techno Knight spotted some strange logs near a customers computer. Thats right we actually do techno spells! Well at least when we are not passionately debating the unparalleled greatness of the Hoghead or the Filipino Princess. I mean, most of us do techno work probably

Everyone except the leaders and the Kool-Aid-chugging newbies actually did work. The rest? They were far too busy either doing Hogheads job for him or singing the endless praises of the Filipino Princess. In fact, even with three so-called leaders dedicated to glorifying Hoghead and pretending to enjoy the Filipino Princess’s company, it still required overtime just to keep them from daydreaming about firing people.

So the Techno Knight reached out to the Filipino Princess, hoping for some help. Big mistake. The Princess just laughed and said, Unless its Hogheads wood, I’m not interested.Then, without missing a beat, he added, Also, I’m swamped running metrics for that minivan-driving cuck, Hoghead.

The next day, the Techno Knight brought up the issue again and once again, Barby, the Filipino Princess and Supreme Derriare devotee, dismissed him without a second thought. That when it hit him: this so-called Mage had spent so much time swatting metaphorical flies and hyping himself up that he was really just a two-trick ponyone trick being Flyswatting, the other being circle-jerk calls with Hoghead.

At this point, the Techno Knight realized that this job was absolutely not what Hoghead had described. Nowhere in the interview did Hoghead mention that leadership meant doing his job while getting zero help with Flyswatting. And he definitely left out the part about being expected to worship him like some kind of fat, pig-headed Buddha.

No one said anything about kissing raw pork. No one said anything about pretending narcissistic human behavior was cool. And yet here he was.

And so, the Techno Knight unleashed his most powerful spell or, well, he wrote a ridiculously long-winded email. An email so verbose, so meticulously crafted, that it could only be described as a digital incantation.

With the precision of a master scribe, he wove arguments of pure logic, binding them together with the sacred runes of Per My Last Email and As Previously Discussed. He invoked the wisdom of the ancients the great god Pan himself!—in a desperate plea for reason to prevail.

Would it work? Would the forces of incompetence tremble before his mighty wall of text? Or would his email be banished to the dark void of Marked as Read, Ignored Forever?

Only time would tell.

After laying everything out, Pan simply shrugged and said, How do you think I got ahead?

Good news! The Techno Knight escaped the insane asylum known as Fly Swat. Within days yes, days he landed a new job thanks to actual friends. (Note: friends, not sycophants, not cult buddies, not people who spend their free time licking the boots of a pig-headed overlord.)

Then, in a final act of cosmic justice, he sold his swamp house for a 200K gold profit and rode off into the sunset to a far better land. Because while there is a time to crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their women there is also a time to walk away from Hogheaded, minivan-driving cuck the kind of guy who only just now, late in life, barely clawing his way out of loserdom.

And, of course, lets not forget the Filipino Princess and Supreme Derriare devotee. Some fights just aren’t worth it. Sometimes, the best revenge is letting people stew in their own pathetic little lives.

I just hope the rest of that cult gets out before its too late.