The Company Way

Mr. Twimble, head of the mail room, has worked for the company for 25 years; all of them in the mail room. Finch's book advises him the mailroom is a place from which to escape as soon as possible. When he is offered a mail room promotion, Finch turns it down, recommending Frump, the boss' unscrupulous nephew. Twimble: When I joined this firm

As a brash young man,

Well, I said to myself,

"Now, brash young man,

Don't get any ideas."

Well, I stuck to that,

And I haven't had one in years.

Finch: You play it safe.

Twimble: I play it the company way;

Wherever the company puts me

There I stay.

Finch: But what is your point of view?

Twimble: I have no point of view.

Finch: Supposing the company thinks . . .

Twimble: I think so too.

Finch: Now, what would you say . . .?

Twimble: I wouldn't say.

Finch: Your face is a company face.

Twimble: It smiles at executives

Then goes back in place.

Finch: The company furniture?

Twimble: Oh, it suits me fine.

Finch: The company letterhead?

Twimble: A valentine.

Finch: Anything you're against?

Twimble: Unemployment.

Finch: When they want brilliant thinking

From employees

Twimble: That is no concern of mine.

Finch: Suppose a man of genius

Makes suggestions?

Twimble: Watch that genius get suggested to resign.

Finch: So you play it the company way?

Twimble: All company policy is by me OK.

Finch: You'll never rise up to the top.

Twimble: But there's one thing clear:

Whoever the company fires,

I will still be here.

Finch: Oh, you certainly found a home!

Twimble: It's cozy.

Finch: Your brain is a company brain.

Twimble: The company washed it,

Now I can't complain.

Finch: Hey, the company magazine!

Twimble: Oh, what style, what punch!

Finch: The company restaurant!

Twimble: Ev'ry day same lunch:

Their haddock sandwich; it's delicious!

Finch: I must try it.

Twimble: (Early in the week.)

Finch: Do you have any hobbies?

Twimble: I've a hobby; I play gin with Mr. Bratt.

Finch: Mr. Bratt! And do you play it nicely?

Twimble: Play it nicely . . . still, he blitzes me

In every game, like that!

Finch: Why?

Twimble: 'Cause I play it the company way.

Executive policy is by me OK.

Finch: Oh, how can you get anywhere?

Twimble: Junior, have no fear;

Whoever the company fires,

I will still be here.

Finch: You will still be here.

Both: Year after year after fiscal,

Never take a risk-al year!

Frump: Oh, me too, me too, Mr. Twimble!

I know exactly what you mean.

From now on . . .

I'll play it the company way,

Wherever the company puts me

There'll I'll stay.

Whatever the company tells him

That he'll do.

Whatever my uncle may think,

I think so too.

He's beaming with company pride.

I've conquered that overambitious rat inside.

Old Bud is no longer the Frump he used to be.

I pledge to the company sweet conformity.

I will someday earn my medal:

Twenty-five year employee.

I'll see to it that the medal

Is the only thing they'll ever pin on me.

The Frump way is the company way.

Executive policy is by him OK.

I'll never be president,

But there's one thing clear,

As long as my uncle can stand me,

I will still be here.

We know the company may like or lump any man,

And if they choose to the company may dump any man;

But they will never dump Frump, the company man.

Frump will play it the company,

Frump will play it the company,

Frump will play it the company way!