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The Soup Disaster

A Short Comedy Story By Jiya

Complete Story

Good God, I am doomed.

That was the only thought Shirley could form as she watched her boss, her actual boss, Mr. Herold, rise from the soup she had just thrown like a baseball. Not stand, but rise like a tornado.

The man was practically bathing in soup. Steam curled around his head like he was being summoned from hell itself, and Shirley could almost hear a voice

And thus, the career of Shirley Montgomery ended…not with a bang, but with a splash.

“Umm… boss, I…” she began. Then she saw his face.

Oh. His face. It looked like a very angry, very pinched tomato.

He wasn’t just angry….he was seething. His eyes burned so brightly Shirley was sure she could roast beef on them.

For one horrible second, she imagined her future “employee dies in workplace soup accident.”

Behind her, her so-called friend was laughing so hard she almost fell off her chair. Shirley made a calm mental note “End this friendship. Right after I get fired.”

Mr. Herold didn’t speak. He didn’t yell. He just stood there, dripping soup like a very upset, undercooked chicken… then turned and walked out.

“…RIP my job,” Shirley whispered.

***************

By the time she got home, her mood was as low as it could go. She sat on her bed, staring at the wall. Unfortunately, the wall turned into Mr. Herold’s face. Still angry. Still tomato.

“I’m finished,” she muttered.

She took a bath to calm down. It did not work. Her body cooled down. Her brain? Fried.

So she grabbed her phone and opened her boss’s chat. Okay…. Simple apology. Easy.

She typed: Sir, I am really soupy… She froze.

“…What.” Her eyes widened.

“…WHAT.”

“I DID NOT JUST SEND THAT.”

Her panic mode activated instantly.

“Oh no. Oh no. He’s going to fire me. No…he’s going to cook me.”

In full panic, she ran to her group chat.

“You witches should apologize for laughing and HELP ME FIX THIS.”

Instantly, her phone exploded with replies….laughing stickers, crying stickers, even one of someone banging their head on a wall. Shirley stared at the screen, expressionless.

“I need new friends.”

Finally, Riley replied, with a tomato angry sticker and text:

Just act normal in front of the tom…..I mean boss.

“Act normal?” Shirley repeated slowly, then almost screamed, “I JUST SEASONED MY BOSS.”

“Alright, there’s no need to be so agitated.”

This time it was Caroline, the only one in the group with a working brain. “The only thing you can do right now is apologize to Mr. Herold.”

Shirley stared at the message, then remembered what she had just sent.

Sir, I am really soupy…

“…Yeah, about that,” she typed. “What should I say now? Sorry, boss, you forgot to fire me?”

“Oh dear,” Faith replied instantly. “Looks like you didn’t just marinate the boss…you marinated your brain too.”

“Hey!” Shirley shot back. “Your name is Faith, but you don’t have any faith in me.”

“Because you threw soup at your boss.”

“…That was an accident.”

“Was it?” Riley added.

“Alright, no need to panic anymore. You’ll just end up spouting even more nonsense in front of your boss, so calm down.” 

Shirley flopped back on her bed. “Of course I’m calm,” she typed. “Completely calm. Very calm. Extremely calm.” She paused. “…Shouldn’t I be panicking?”

“YES,” all three replied at the same time.

“I hate all of you,” she muttered.

“Don’t act like a cocky rooster. Just apologize,” Faith added.

“I am NOT a rooster,” Shirley said. “I am a victim.”

“A victim who launched soup like a weapon,” Riley replied.

“…It slipped.”

“With force?”

Shirley ignored that. “Listen, it’s not like I can find another job that easily.”

The chat went quiet for once. No stickers. No jokes.

Riley finally replied seriously: “Okay. Look. There are a lot of ideas… but the best one is still simple.”

“…Which is?”

“Apologize to Mr. Herold. Properly.”

“He’s strict, yes,” Caroline added, “but he’s not unreasonable.”

“And don’t mention the word ‘soupy.’ Ever again,” Faith said.

Shirley stared at the screen, then sighed. “…Fine.”

***************

The next day, Shirley made up her mind. She would go straight to the boss’s office, apologize properly, and when he fired her, she would walk out with dignity. And this time, no throwing things. Definitely no soup.

“Unless it’s water,” she muttered. “…No. Not even water.”

She got ready and went to work. It was a big mistake.

The moment she stepped inside, she felt eyes on her. So many eyes. Everyone looked at her with deep sympathy… like she was about to be publicly eaten alive.

One coworker even nodded, as if saying… stay strong.

“I’m not going to war,” Shirley whispered. “…Or am I?”

Her panic rose again. Then she remembered the group chat just act normal, apologize, don’t say soupy.

“…Right,” she breathed. “I can do this.”

With an unsteady heart, she walked toward Mr. Herold’s office. Outside the door, she stopped, took a deep breath, and whispered, “Why are my lips dry and wet at the same time?”

She knocked.

“Come in,” came a cold voice.

Shirley froze. Then looked left. Right. “…No witnesses. Good.” She opened the door and stepped in.

Mr. Herold sat behind his desk, calm, quiet, wearing glasses, and somehow more dangerous than yesterday.

Why does he look like an angry owl? Shirley thought.

Focus. Focus.

He looked up and frowned. Standing there was Shirley, staring at him like a fish that had just realized life was a mistake.

“B-b-boss,” she stammered. “I think you’re busy. I’ll come later.”

“Sit.”

She froze. “…That sounded like a threat.”

Slowly, she sat down like her bones had given up.

“So… nice weather?” she said immediately. Why did I say that?

“…You threw soup at me,” he said.

“…Yes.”

“From a distance.”

“…Yes.”

“With force.”

“…It slipped from my hands.”

“Boss… did you perhaps like my throw?” she added nervously. “I can throw things more forcefully than this if you….” She stopped.

Because he was staring at her…unreadable.

“…I am so soupy…no, sorry! Oh God,” she whispered. “What is wrong with me?”

“Are you here to make fun of me?” he asked.

“NO!” she almost shouted. “I am here to apologize!”

And she did. Everything came out in one rushed spiral of words…mistake, waiter, confusion, soup flying, him appearing like a rocket.

When she finally stopped, she gasped for air. “…And that’s it.”

Silence.

“If you want to fire me,” she added quickly, “please do it fast because I am entering full panic mode.”

He stared at her for a long moment. Then his expression softened…just a little.

“I will forgive you,” he said finally. “But only this once.”

Shirley blinked. “…I’m not fired?”

“No.” Her brain rebooted. Then she almost fell off her chair. “Thank you…YES…I mean, thank you, Mr. Herold.”

He adjusted his glasses. “Also, please stop describing workplace incidents as weapon attacks.”

“…Yes, sir.”

“And never say ‘soupy’ to me again.”

“…Yes, sir.”

She stood up, walked out, closed the door gently.

Two seconds passed.

Then…

“I STILL HAVE A JOB!”

Her voice echoed through the office. Shirley froze. Slowly covered her mouth.

“…I will be quiet now.”

…….THE END……..