Millions of American Workers Suddenly Realize They Belong to a Cult

DAYTON, OHIO -- In a startling revelation sure to shake up the corporate world, millions of American workers awoke this morning only to discover that they belonged to a cult.

"It's pretty weird how they make us sing the company song each morning at our desk like the pledge of allegiance," said Bill P. of Topeka, Kansas, a 20-year veteran of a major American accounting firm who asked to remain anonymous for fear of retribution. "I once was reprimanded for not singing with an appropriate level of enthusiasm," he added, noting how the company song borrows heavily from the Disney song 'Heigh Ho, It's Off to Work We Go.' "Hell, I hadn't even drank my coffee yet."

Carole G. of Chicago, a marketing executive for a multi-national perfume corporation, went one step further, stating: "I really believe that my boss would shoot us with a rocket-propelled grenade launcher if she thought we had disobeyed her. She's very Jim Jones, you know."

Like members of a cult, American workers also describe being subjected to constant surveillance and contact from their employers via email, cell phone, pagers, Twitter, Instagram and other sorts of social media designed to keep them "plugged in" and complaint. And that their CEOs demand absolute fealty, bordering on worship.

"I can't get away, even while on vacation," complained an exasperated Peter B., a manufacturer's representative in Dallas. "My wife and I finally took a much-needed vacation to Playa Del Carmen, but I was instructed to take along my laptop. Big mistake. My boss asked me to work on an RFP by the end of the week. And I did it."

"If I have to go to one more lame team-building, morale-boosting exercise where we are asked to catch each other when we fall, climb a rope or chew on raisins to teach us mindfulness, I think I'll puke," said a disgruntled Barry G., a middle manager at a plastics corporation in Atlanta. "But what I really hate is when they make us skip around the room on our birthdays. Why can't they stop treating us like children and just let us do our jobs?"

"I just want my life back," said a shaken Peg D. of Schenectady, New York, who has worked in sales for a major pharmaceutical for over 10 years. "I've faithfully attended every meeting for every sort of committee, including something called a "Priority Committee" where we prioritize other meetings. They just to suck the soul right out of you. Everyone lives in fear that they will somehow disappoint or anger our fearless leader. And yet he never screws up, but demands complete loyalty and love. It's like we're working for David Koresh of the Branch Dividians."