The Last Network - Chapter 34
Trolls R’ Us
It was Sonny’s third visit to Tijuana. He stared out the window, watching the city center fade to low slung warehouses and small factories. The silver Chevy Tahoe pulled off the main drag into an industrial park. The last time he’d come here, it had been to see 80,000 square feet of nothingness. He had feigned interest in the barebones facility, but inspecting internet connections and redundant power did nothing for him.
Actually, it had made him wonder what he was doing with his career.
Sonny had been tasked with managing the troll operation. It was his own fault really. Had he not asked into the inner circle, he’d have never known it existed. Now he was in charge of it. Sonny was a man of process and documentation, consensus and collaboration. He should be in the middle of company HQ making sure objectives were aligned, and teams were on target. He didn’t like being out on an island, and he didn’t like being in charge of something secret. Despite his earlier pledge, he hadn’t told Em or Paolo what he was up to. Paolo likely knew—he knew everything it seemed—but Em wouldn’t go in for this. Not one bit. It was a black-ops designed to knock out a competitor. Sonny didn’t have the time to build out the facility and referee a fight between Rabbit and her. He chose the path of least resistance.
The lights went on. Before him were countless cubes, organized in neat rows that stretched to the back of the building. Their new partner, Omar Gomez, extended his arms with pride.
“All of this in the last two weeks. I told you we’d hit our targets.”
Omar slapped Sonny on the back. He cringed from the unwanted contact. His host was a short, excitable man with thin black hair. He was wearing a starched white dress shirt tucked into beat up jeans which tucked into fancy cowboy boots. A large silver belt buckle held everything together.
Sonny was impressed. He had managed a few office build outs and knew that progress like this required around-the-clock work. Nights and weekends. Extra guys and hurry-up deliveries.
“How is hiring coming?”
“We’ve filled one hundred seats. They start training next week. We’ll hire in batches of fifty after that. Bring on a new group every other week. We can move faster if you need it. I’d love to fill this as quick as I can. I’m after corporate clients, real work, like sales and customer service, but I need to show hundreds of bodies already at work to land them. That’s were Peared comes in. You help me fill the gap.”
“You know what we discussed. We’ll fill as many seats as make sense. No promises beyond 200 for three months.”
“Of course.”
Sonny had not expected to end up in Tijuana. When he was first given the assignment, he assumed he’d go to the usual suspects in Manila or Bangladesh. First, they’d be cheaper. Second, they’d be farther away and easier to hide. The problem was effectiveness. He had gone to Asia and met with several centers that specialized in “community participation,” the industry euphemism for this sort of work. Things looked good until they tested agents against Peared users in America. Something didn’t click. After a few weeks of trials, Sonny realized that US users wouldn’t give them the time of day. There was a cultural barrier and impatience that caused them to bail right away.
Omar understood this. He knew that Americans liked to feel big and nothing was worse than making them feel small. To effectively troll one didn’t need to gross out, they needed to embarrass. His plan was to only hire people who had been in the US, who understood how all the little things worked and how people talked. They weren’t going to ask people to whip their dicks out, they were going to take their Hands into Starbucks, screw up the order over and over while the line backed up, and then give their name as Mr. Shitzenpants. Mortification was their weapon.
The best part? If anyone discovered the center and asked who hired them, Omar would claim no one. He’d say it was a new center with idle seats who weren’t being properly overseen. He’d blame a non-existent manager and say it was all a cruel game some rogue employees were playing to kill the time.
It worked for Sonny.
What didn’t work for Sonny was where this was all going. Together and Rizon raised $200 million between them. They were backed by the two most important VCs in the valley. Rabbit’s plan was to ruin the customer experience, so they went out of business. If he won, it would be by making the space toxic. That would make Peared toxic as well. While Rabbit would have the satisfaction of being right, Sonny’s options were worthless unless someone bought the company.
Who was going to buy Peared after Thorn and Kleiner walked away from the space?
He had negotiated an $80k bump in salary for taking the troll job on, but success would likely close out any chance of an acquisition. Had Rabbit accepted Thorn’s $350 million offer to sell, Sonny would have made $3.5 million. Massive difference.
He needed to talk to Rabbit and find out his plans after he beat Rizon and Together. Was there something beyond that or was ego everything to Rabbit?
Sonny had to know whether he was working for a genius or a fool.