The fourth attempt was the decisive one. Ted had waited for the perfect moment. Druthers seemed more stable. The divorce papers were signed. Wolfie had been buried (or scattered, or whatever one does with dog ashes). It was time.
He found Druthers in the hallway and began: "Hammond, there's something I need to tell you. It's not easy, but..."
The door burst open.
A group of employees rushed in with a cake and party hats. "SURPRISE! Happy birthday, Hammond!"
Druthers looked at them, confused. "But my birthday was days ago."
"I know, but many of us were at a conference in Montreal and couldn't celebrate, so... second birthday!"
Ted watched the scene with horror. Druthers, surrounded by people who loved him, who appreciated him, who had prepared a party for him. Druthers, smiling, happy, grateful.
"Mosby, you too! Come, come!"
But Ted didn't move. Something inside him broke, or hardened. He didn't know which. But when the party noise subsided for a moment, he spoke.
"ENOUGH!"
Silence fell over the office like a blanket. Everyone looked at him.
"Hammond, listen to me. I'm going to say this, and I'm going to say it now. Your life is a mess. Your wife has left you, your dog has died. You've been sleeping in your office, and now these... these..."
"Wonderful colleagues?" someone offered.
"These colleagues throw you a party because they couldn't make it to the first one! And I'm here, trying to... trying to..."
Druthers looked at him, with an expression of confusion and fear. "Trying to what, Mosby?"
"Trying to tell you that... You're fired."
And then, Druthers clutched his chest. His face twisted in a grimace of pain. "Oh, God..."
"What? What's happening? Hammond?"
Druthers collapsed. Slowly, like a building in slow motion, he crumpled onto the carpet.
"HAMMOND!"
What followed was absolute chaos. Someone called emergency services. Someone else tried to revive him. Ted stood paralyzed, watching the scene, repeating in his head: I gave him a heart attack. I killed my ex-boss with words.
The paramedics arrived, pushed everyone aside, worked on Druthers. Finally, they lifted him onto a stretcher and took him away.
Before leaving, one of the paramedics approached Ted. "Are you the boss?"
"Yes, I... is he going to be okay?"
"Yes, it seems it wasn't serious. A scare, nothing more. But..." The paramedic hesitated. "Did you cause this?"
"I... was trying to fire him."
The paramedic looked at him with a mix of reproach and understanding. "Well, you didn't cause the heart attack, I mean. He had pre-existing heart conditions. But if you're looking to feel better, you could tell yourself it wasn't your fault." He said it a bit reluctantly.
Ted didn't feel better.
The next day, he returned to the office. The atmosphere was icy. No one looked him in the eye. The hallways emptied when he approached. Conversations fell silent.
"Good morning, team," he said at the morning meeting.
Silence.
"Any progress on the projects?"
More silence.
"I know what happened yesterday with Hammond, and I know some of you think it was my fault. But the paramedics said..."
"We know what the paramedics said," interrupted a woman from the model-making department. "But we also know you'd been trying to fire him for weeks, and you chose the worst possible moment."
"I didn't choose... he had a surprise party. I didn't know..."
"You should have known. You're his boss. It's your responsibility."
Ted was speechless. The meeting ended without further conversation.
A week passed. Then two. The atmosphere didn't improve. Ted arrived at the office, did his work, and left. No casual conversations. No jokes in the break room. No warm "good mornings" like before.
He was a ghost in his own kingdom.
Until one Thursday afternoon, walking through the empty office, he had an idea. An absurd idea. An idea that, in any other circumstance, he would have dismissed as ridiculous.
Margaritas.
Friday margaritas.
The next day, he arrived early. He set up a table with a giant punch bowl of margaritas, glasses decorated with salt on the rim, and a sign that said: FRIDAY MARGARITAS – COURTESY OF THE COMPANY (AND TED)
Employees started arriving. They saw the table. They looked at each other. Someone approached, timidly, and poured a glass.
"It's good," he murmured.
Another approached. Then another. Soon, the table was surrounded by people. Conversations, cold for weeks, began to warm up.
"You know what? Mosby's not so bad," someone said.
"Well, the Druthers thing was unfortunate, but the paramedics said it wasn't his fault."
"And the margaritas are delicious."
Ted, from his office, watched the scene with a smile. It wasn't a solution. It didn't erase what had happened. But it was a beginning.
When he came out to pour himself a margarita, someone patted him on the back. "Well played, boss."
"Thanks. Second round?"
The office burst into applause.
That night at MacLaren's
Ted told the story to the group.
"So you bought them off with alcohol?" summarized Barney. "Classic. I've bought women with less."
"It's different. I didn't buy them off. I just... created a space for them to stop hating me."
"With alcohol," insisted Barney. "But hey, it works. The important thing is they don't want to kill you anymore."
"I guess." Ted sighed. "And Druthers is okay. He called me from the hospital to ask me to keep his position open. I told him the Seattle project would still be waiting for him when he recovered."
Robin kissed him on the cheek. "You're a good man, Ted Mosby. A good man with bad firing skills, but a good man."
"That's what Druthers told me before the heart attack."
"Before the heart attack you didn't cause," Alyx clarified. "That detail is important."
"Yeah. Before the heart attack I didn't cause."
The group laughed. The tension of the past weeks dissolved like salt in the margaritas.
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Did you survive Ted's work drama? Me too! And that's even with Hammond Druthers almost stealing our hearts with his divorce, his dog, and his hideous little tie. Do you think Ted did the right thing by not firing him?
Tell me what you thought, and if you're enjoying this madness, support me with power stones! Comment and follow for more adventures.
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