Craig O'Rion

This office hasn't changed since 1989. It's bland, boring, and makes people hate it


Craig O'Rion grew up with great ambition, and was always "shooting for the stars," but just like his half-assed Irish surname, he always seemed to fall short. No girlfriend, no prospects, and no hope soon became the daily lifestyle forecast for Craig O'Rion. Things just weren't looking good... not in the near future... and not in the long run...

As we all know, most men are judged on three parameters, and two of them involve whether or not they are involved with women. Since Craig had dismal results with the opposite sex, he felt just like a failed bill on the senate floor. 2/3 perceived loser, and 1/3 failure. His reason for living? He wasn't really sure. He tried match.com, he even coupled his match account with chemistry.com, and he even hired a webmaster to idealize his online profile. It was just no use... it was like shooting fish in an ocean. Even the analogies that described him sucked. Unluckily enough for Craig, his lack of requited love wasn't the only thing not going for him...



The law firm of Blivak, Stolhein, and Johnston is well known for being one of the more cutthroat practices in Northern Jersey. And it is also well known for treating Craig O'Rion like a bag of dog shit. A firm that meets the needs and demands of over 75 clients, they've learned to release their built up law practice stresses directly into the face of Craig O'Rion. 

Hey O'Rion! When you're done being useless, could you shred these god damn papers?!? God DAMMIT O'RION! 

Where did it all go wrong for O'Rion? How did he go from head of his class in high school to the bottom of the barrel in a law firm? How could he fall from grace so steadily and deeply that recovery no longer seemed feasible? When did he go from being top dog, to being the fire hydrant that all the dogs piss on? Perhaps it all started during the spring of '01. 

The high school class of 2001 was looking to change the world. Perhaps more so than the class of 2000, which they heard about on the news pretty much each and every day until the conclusion of their Junior years. All of this press coverage over a class that was both theoretical and tangible at the same time created an envious chip on the shoulders of each and every overachiever set to graduate high school in 2001. They felt like they had much more to prove, and no one absorbed this sentiment more than Craig O'Rion. 

Every day he'd come home during lunch, and everyday he would find a mailbox void of a Stanford acceptance letter. He had put all of his eggs in one basket on this one. Refusing to apply to any other school, regardless of academic caliber. It was the surest Craig had ever been of himself. And it was Craig's first fatal mistake.

As the story goes, Craig never received that acceptance letter, and he never got into Stanford. Five uneventful years of generic college education later, he ended up in Cranford... New Jersey. An intern-turned-lifer at Blivak, Stolhein, and Johnston. A place where his confidence continued to wane. This is where O'Rion has become the penultimate scapegoat, punching bag, and beta male. This is where O'Rion had become the "office bitch."


Why are these papers STILL sitting on my desk, O'Rion?!? His co-workers would regularly and condescendingly yell with vigor. 

Perhaps it was O'Rion's extreme distaste for himself that allowed those of less mental aptitude to walk all over him. Although an average looking man, he was rather quick on his feet, but this is something that no one from his office could ever see. Once O'Rion yielded to the first test of his gumption, the partners and the employees used him as the company scapegoat. As most of us know all too well, and as far as shortsighted people go, the Cranford lawfirm staff was no different, once they had an impression of Craig, he was permanently pigeonholed as "O'Rion, the Office Bitch."

At the turn of the millennium, Craig had so many bright goals and such bright promise. His only goal now? Just getting through the day.


Jesus CHRIST O'Rion! Where's the Nesbitt file?!?!


O'Rion was constantly hearing the apex of complaint, and he appeared to be getting more and more vulnerable to insult. It was becoming the story of his life. He was becoming more of a joke than Andy Dick.


God Dammit O'Rion! Nelson tells me YOU'RE the one responsible for the paper jam in the copier!


O'RION! You son of a bitch! Don't you know the difference between decaf and regular?!?


Hey moron! I mean O'Rion... staple my documents and get me another coffee!


You know how Rob Lowe is so smooth and ageless? Well after a few years of being scapegoated for everything, Craig O'Rion had become a man aged beyond his years and withering away from without as well as from within. The stress of being a castoff and object of ridicule have given him crows feet and extreme social anxiety disorder by the age of 29. Craig was supposed to be in his prime... instead he was the office equivalent of a humbled Ryan Leaf. Completely un-Rob-Lowe-like.

The amount of consolation owed to O'Rion has become infinite in the years since he started at Blivak, Stolhein, and Johnston. A job he has been unable to escape due to his downward spiral of self-loathing. He has become less of a person, and more of a machine. A machine that inputs insults and outputs loyal submissiveness. He no longer has an opinion... about anything... His life becoming unbelievably routine and predictably mundane. A downward spiral that refuses to be finite.

The only thing in Craig's life that hasn't been stolen or discarded?

...Being the most tread upon Office Bitch in all of Northern New Jersey.




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