After 10,000 years spent floating in a space dumpster, and 25 years married to an alien lord with an exposed brain, I decided that I, Rita Repulsa, needed a bit of a change.
Starting in 1993, I would send new monsters I invented to fight “Power Rangers,” teenagers in highly flammable Halloween costumes provided by an adult man that spied on them in a secret cave. Now they’re all adults working at Wow Tech, California’s top VR company for games that help kids cope with divorce. Since I don’t have much going on right now, I thought it was the perfect time to connect with them again by becoming their VP of Product!
Getting the job was much easier than I anticipated. The company loved my journey from attempting to conquer Earth to wanting to conquer tween depression, and the way I berated my former colleagues for my screw-ups or hit them with my scepter was viewed as “evidence of an effective and consistent manager-report communication style.” Everyone on the hiring committee was impressed that I had monster-making experience, and was able to delegate to spider monkey and dog-faced golden flying creatures.
It also didn’t hurt that they saw me as a diversity hire. They said they had representation of all races, ethnicities, and gender expressions, but had yet to take a step into 2022 by hiring an immortal space witch who can make henchmen out of putty.
On day one, I thought I’d remind the Rangers of how much fun we used to have, so I made a friendly monster by enchanting a water cooler and a bunch of staplers. I called him Office Max, and hoped he would let the Rangers know that I was on their side by keeping them hydrated and making sure all their product reports were organized neatly. Unfortunately, he did not go over well. The Rangers complained to Human Resources, and at the end of day one I met my work nemesis, Stacy Kohn, the head of HR, who said our job is to help sad youths who have access to Phoebe Bridgers songs, not cast spells on items from the supply closet.
I licked my wounds with ice cream, and Zedd did the thing we normally do on my birthday to cheer me up, but nothing worked. I had Goldar help me hack into the Rangers’ work-related Slack channel, and apparently they still see me as the same murder-thirsty villain I was almost thirty years ago. Since then, I’ve embraced the image, sitting on important emails and projects from the Rangers, lying to them about what happens in meetings to make them angry and frustrated, demanding they resend project updates that I’ve had for weeks, and, nastiest of all, making them sit in weekly meetings with me that could have been emails.
Recently, I overheard one of the female ones talking about how she thinks the Rangers need to gather for one last mission. My guess is that it’s to kill me, which would hopefully make them happy. From all the time I spend doomscrolling on my phone and eavesdropping in the bathroom, I’ve learned that Jason and Kimberly are on thin ice with their partners, and Billy has to see a urologist about his prostate. Maybe the Rangers don’t need me to be their manager, but to be a reminder of their high school heyday. Not wanting to disappoint, I’ve created a new monster from all the failed ambitions of USC and NYU film grads. Her name is Kayleigh, and she spends eight hours a day keeping people out of my office, asking if they have an appointment, and calling them by the wrong first name in person and in email. I mean, it’s right there, but Kayleigh just doesn’t care!
One day, I’d still love to do something for myself, but right now, I’m happy to just be helping the Rangers think about a simpler time. My goal is to give them a big fight with putty henchmen after their performance review at the end of this week, and for them to take on Kayleigh with a Megazord by the end of the month. It’s tough work, but what better space witch than me to do it?
