Friday, June 15, 2012

Untitled Project

Epilogue

7 months later

Jessica was one of the premiere servers on the team. One of the best. She was on the floor for the night shift along with Carlos, Louis, Janice, Tabitha and a few others. They had been serving for a while. For tonight, Jessica would be serving the back area. "Ha. That's pretty cool," she sardonically thought to herself. She chuckled lightly.

There were no gods.
There were no kings.

Terrence was finishing his lunch shift and walked up the stairs to finish his daily duties before he could be dismissed. "Rolling silverware?" asked sexy Samantha. Another top tiered server. Her hair brazen and blonde. She was beautiful. She had no qualms. "Let me help you with that." She wanted to start her shift and make her money.

There were no gods.
There were no kings.
There was no segregation.
There was no separation.

Jen, Clyde and Krystal all entered together. They had their own clique. Best friends no matter what. They had each others backs for every shift.

Miranda, the assistant manager walked up the stairs, "All right guys. Gather round and I'll let you guys know what's up for tonight." The team all huddled and Miranda whipped out a sheet of paper with the itinerary. The new guy, James, was serving for his first time. "Jessie, since you're one of our best, you'll be training James for a few hours and he'll come back tomorrow for the rest of his training."

Jessica nodded in confirmation. Veteran and apprentice both looked at each other and traded sly grins. They were both ready. The servers were all given their sections and their duties and it was time for the night to begin.

Miranda continued, "Also. Jen, I noticed you were slacking just a bit yesterday. Let's see if we can change that tonight. I'll be around if you or any of you guys need help."

There were no gods.
There was no iron.
There was no lightning.

The night came and went. Happy guests. Time sped. Songs were sung. Birthdays were celebrated. The host team were finishing their duties. They too had a newbie joining the ranks. Carmen had never hosted before and on that very same night, she was able to form a strong bond with Elizabeth, who was one of the top hostesses and a veteran in her field. She had seen everything.

Elizabeth and Carmen both watched Jessica run around trying to get everything done. Jessica led the team and was still able to have James under her wing. Elizabeth and Carmen both slipped on their jackets and left for the door. The night was cool and brisk. "Which way are you taking?" asked Elizabeth. Carmen answered, "I usually walk down Bryton Street and then I turn left." Elizabeth said with a grin, "I'm going the same way!"

They both walked together.

There were no kings.
No lords
No drones
No badges
No demigods
No hierarchy

The streets were quiet. Elizabeth had Jessica on her mind. The way Jessica scrambled late into the night, cleaning, sweeping, training, leading her team. She was good enough to become a manager if she wanted it. She had guts and knowledge. Elizabeth chuckled. Carmen looked up at Elizabeth,

"What's so funny?"

Elizabeth answered, "It's just funny to see Jessie the way she is at the job. She thinks she's an still an expert." Elizabeth continued to chuckle quietly.

There were no kings.

Carmen queried, "What's an expert?"

Elizabeth gasped quietly, "Oh yeah! I forgot you're new with us!"

"Let me tell you a little story..."

[the end]

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 9

It continued.
Kingdoms burned.
Towers toppled.
Kings fell.

The formerly mindless servers cried change and reform. Rebirth was necessary. The servers showed a vulgar display of a newfound power. We all witnessed the abortions of the experts' souls on the kitchen floor. Expert Number 8 shouted to the heavens where the gods lived, "They're right! This is fucked up! I don't want to be an Expert anymore!" He had forsaken his badge and demoted himself.

We welcomed him warmly into the collective elite.

It was a beautiful chaos.
Infrastructures failed. Years and years of hard work from the experts turned into a revelation of biblical proportions.

Other Experts were more purist. They cried for the regime to stay. They thought they could counter the revolution. It was futile.

The laughter continued.
The mockery continued.
The servers would not be kicked around for any longer.
It was civil war.
It was anarchy.
It was beautiful.

"You have chaos running through your fingertips," echoed Zeus. Father of the gods. King of kings. I didn't know where the noise was coming from. It was ominous. He continued. "You, good sir, hold true power. That which not even I can possess." Zeus himself flew down from his perch. He was majesty.

He was pompous dictator. He was unrelenting tyrant. We worshipped him. The servers. The experts. "We need to talk." he said in a cold dark voice. "See me after your shift." As quickly as he appeared, he disappeared.

"It was clearly because one of the experts squealed on you about what you said about them the other day." said to me Number 13. "Don't worry about it. We're all here for you," added Number 6.

They were my brothers and sisters. I loved them. The shift halted to a slow drip. The servers all did the duties that they were assigned that night. Nothing more. There was very little interference from most of the experts. They were cautious.

I continued to be sword and shield. Ever vigilant.

The Experts and I all traded stares. I could see the fire in their eyes. I was able to sense the mourning of their empire. It was falling. It was failing. Their system was flawed. They were running on E and they knew it. I was pariah. I was enemy of the state. Their stomachs churned with embarrassment.

They were being laughed at.
Mocked
Ridiculed
Heckled
Teased

As I exited the kitchen, and what used to be scribbled on the marker board words like "ha ha", "what a joke" and "experts" now read encouraging words like:

"the revolution will not die"  
"never give up"
"reform and change"

In black marker.
I was legacy.
I left my mark.
They left theirs.
We would all become forever.

The shift ended and it was time to speak with the almighty. I found myself at one of the tables and he sauntered over. King of kings. He knew his empire was falling and he knew he needed to take action.

"Hello, Mark." he said to me as he casually took his seat. I bit back, "That's Mindless Server Drone Number 2 to you." I showed no fear. He laughed lightly. "That's quite alright. It seems as though you want to cut to the chase. Very well. One of my Experts told me about what you said on the Internet. I just wanted to know what you meant by "joke". See, I raised the experts. I birthed them. You say they are nothing but a joke. Does that mean that I am a joke to you? Explain yourself."

I breathed once. "Your experts are nothing but a bunch of little mini tyrants. They serve just like me. Their only claim to fame is a shiny badge." he stared dauntingly as I spoke.

He breathed deeply. "Let me put it like this. Imagine a cancer cell. If one cancer cell gets to another healthy cell, then that cell also becomes a cancer cell. Those two cancer cell gets to four more and then you have multiple cancer ce--"

I cut him off

"Sir, I know how cancer works." I said.

"Very well," he said back in a very grandiose manner. "Allow me to put it this way, then. You're detrimental to my empire. You're efficiently destroying the kingdom that I've worked so hard to build. You get to one server, and then they infect another two. Those two will infect another four, and before we know it, the place becomes this titanic tumor of little revolutionaries wanting "change" and "reform. I'm going to give you two choices. But please choose wisely. I like you, Mark. I honestly say you have to be one of the best servers here. You make money for me. You make money for you. Id hate to lose you."

I raised my eyebrow in suspicion. "It's funny you compare this place to a cancerous tumor, because thats what this place is with the Experts running the show."

He sardonically chortled.

"Just one question. Why didn't you make me into one of your little tyrants?" I asked. He answered, "Because I knew deep inside that you were destined for much more. Something that I myself cannot provide you. You're bigger than you think, Mark. You were able to create unholy anarchy from just 5 or 6 little words!"

6 seconds of silence followed.

"Here are your two choices, Mark. I want you to leave this place and never turn back. It is clear that the Mindless Server Drones no longer need you. You gave them heart and courage. Something that if earned, can never be taken away, no matter how hard I would want to try. The Experts will rebuild themselves somehow. You won't have to worry about us. Don't consider it abandoning your fellow servers. Consider it an opportunity to seek a higher purpose."

He continued,

"Or you can stay. I'd like for you to stay as well. But if you choose to stay, you have to drop the whole "revolutionary" act and conform. You cannot speak any more words about the servers, the Experts, or about anything else that happens here to anyone. You have to shut your mouth, and fall in line. Let the Experts be Experts. Everything will eventually fall into place. In return, I can offer you a generous raise and a bonus. This, and more tables in the front sections."

I had an extremely difficult decision to make.

I left my mark.
I was game changer
I was forever
I was legacy
I was legend
I was forever

[end of Part 9]

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 8

Words.

Words were the answer the entire time! Words would be my sword and shield. I quickly mastred the freedom of speech. I checked back at my original post, and there were 63 more replies. I bothered not to read any of them. I already knew what they were saying. I loved the attention. It was almost orgasm inducing.

I was Phoenix rising out of the ashes. It was time to go to work.

I slipped on my shirt of black, and my tie of red. I sat back down on my computer and stared at my screen. Technology is an amazing thing. I started thinking to myself, "Hm, what if I..."

I began typing. Again, out of impulse.

heading to work. Hopefully "they" don't chew us up alive again tonight. ;)

I got up out of my chair and retrieved the rest of my things. I returned to close my computer and I already got my first reply:

Expert 1: well if some people just learned to cooperate and conform with the rest of the crew, well have a smooth night. Thank you.

I mockingly chuckled. Very lightly. I left. What a bunch of pretentious bullshit. I realized what was happening. I was angering the demigods. Words were my weapons. I could have asked for nothing more. They destroyed any and all opposition. Not this one.

Realization.

If they react this way after hearing the voice of one, imagine the voice of 2.

Voice of 5.

Voices of many.

It was time to assemble my army. We needed to challenge the gods. Shut down the regime for good. It was possible. It could be done. This was the dream. I made it just in time for the directional. We would be given our duties for the night and start our shifts. The experts, of course got the better tables to serve, and thus were tipped more. The lower tiered server drones had the tables in the back.

This was where the nastiest of pigs come to feed and fester.

What a sordid little place.

The gods flew back up to the perch after handing out our duties and the night was ours. The drones walked downstairs to begin their shift, but the mob of experts stayed. I sat idly and stoic at the table mentally preparing myself for the night.

I was legend.

Expert Number 1 walked over to where I was sitting. She had a cold winter in her eyes. She read what I had said and commented. She sat down with a stiff demeanor. Experts 4 and 6 stood right behind her. They seemed to be an impenetrable force. I looked over to her nonchalantly and smiled. "So we hear you like to talk shit," she said.

I laughed.

She sighed and the other experts sighed with her. "So what's the deal? You don't like us?" She raised her voice.

I laughed harder. I couldn't keep it in. They were no longer demigods, but clowns. I could only picture Expert 1 with a clown wig and a red nose.

I laughed even harder.

She gritted her teeth and said with fierce tenacity, "Listen here, you little shit! You're not gonna make fools of us. We are better than you so you'll just have to learn to deal with that! The gods will hear about thi--" Expert Number 4 put his hand on her shoulder and said with a hushed tone, "Fuck it. Let's get outta here. We'll let the gods deal with this one."

They all walked away.

I was champion.
I was legacy.

The night was ours.

Server Drone Number 14 hadn't done anything at all. I watched him. He was doing his job, but the Experts had a different plan. I watched one of them lay down the law, yelling, scolding, reprimanding my brother for something he had not done. Lightning flashed from her voice and thunder boomed.

I was sword and shield.

I interrupted. "Hey! I was watching him! He's done nothing wrong! Back off!" The expert stopped what she was saying, and backed away. Her lips tight, and not a sound was heard. We stared and stared. She huffed, and turned around. She scurried away into the night. "Thanks a lot, man. I swear, they give those Experts a little bit of power and this whole place turns to shit!"

He continued, "I also read what you said about them yesterday. Good shit!" he turned away and continued feeding the pigs. I was able to feel a hopeful heart on him.

My revolution began.

On the marker board, what used to say "You Are Not Special" now said words like "ha ha", "what a joke!" and "experts" scribbled all across the board. Numbers were written all over. On the corner I was able to see the word "revolt" scribbled terribly. None of this was my doing. I was leading a secret coup and I hadn't even realized it. Revolt was the name of the game that night.

I left the kitchen and continued to feed the trough that the pigs ate from. I heard one of the experts try to viciously bark an order at one of my sisters. Mindless Server Drone Number 9. She stared nonchalantly and laughed playfully. She skipped away and continued what it was that she was doing.

Another one of the Experts tried to bite at another Server Drone for not having done something that could have been overlooked. "LISTEN HERE!" cried Server Drone Number 12. "THAT SHITTY LITTLE BADGE DOES NOT MAKE YOU BETTER THAN ME! I'M NOT SCARED OF YOU ANYMORE!" she composed herself, and calmly and slyly said, "Now...I think one of your tables wants you." My jaw dropped. The expert was speechless. She turned around and walked away. Number 12 smiled and giggled, and continued her duties.

The drones knew what had to be done. They were no longer mindless. It was amazing.

The Experts were losing power.
The Experts became nothing.
That night
Experts became mere mortals.
They had no lightning.
No fire.
We used to obey them.
On this night, we mocked them.

The servers and I were all one. They finally heard the voices of many. All throughout the floor, I was able to hear voices of laughter. Laughs of mockery and dismay towards the regime.

I became leader.
Without lifting a single finger.
I was Che.
I was Peron.

I made my routine rounds and I was suddenly stopped by Expert Number 3. My best friend. I loved her. The other experts know what you're doing, she said to me. I returned with a sly grin, "Who, me?" Yes! She barked back. "And since we're friends and they know that, they wanted me to talk to you. We all know that it's because of you that the Servers are laughing at us and mocking us. Not doing anything we tell them to. They don't respect us anymore! Everyone saw what you wrote yesterday."

I was legend.
I was legacy.
I was pariah.
I was enemy of the state.

I said quietly, "Remember where you came from. You used to be nothing just like me."

She sighed, "Just stop what you're doing before you lose your job."

I witnessed uprising.
History changed that night.
We were one.

Experts died that night.
On the inside.
Experts can die.

The servers saw and conquered. With relentless force.

It was the end of the shift and the Experts decided to leave early. Leaving all of the Drones and I to wrap the silverware, fold the napkins and finish all of the other miscellaneous tasks all on our own. They were all upstairs waiting for me. I slowly crept upstairs and I finally caught my breath.

They all stopped and stared with hopeful eyes. After a few seconds of silence, Number 5 stood up and started clapping, and then Number 7 and soon, there was an uproarious ovation. They cheered. They hollered. They screamed. They clapped and clapped. I began applauding back at them. If it weren't for them, we'd all still be oppressed.

That night, I became immortal.
I became forever.
My revolution paved the way for years of democracy to come.
This night would go on in history.

I was legacy.
I was revolutionary.
I was leader.
This night was the result of just a few words spoken.
The infinite power of words.
We fought.
We won.

I was forever.
They clapped.
They cheered.
They hollered.

I was forever.

[end of Part 8]

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 7

I was conspiracy evolved.

The sun beamed hard on my face. Begging me to greet the day. I awoke and stumbled over to my computer. I was a member of a very popular social media network and so were many others that I worked with. I was friends with over 40 of the mindless drones. This was how we kept in contact outside of work.

I was also friends with some of the experts. We never spoke much outside of work. I didn't mind it. Outside of the job, they were normal people just like me. But they still had a hidden pride about them. They can read everything I write. Vice versa. News broke on the feed about a big morning experts meeting. It was supposed to have been the biggest in the city. I watched them discuss on the Internet.

"Experts meeting? The fuck is this?" I asked myself groggily.

Expert 4: going to this big experts meeting. Ugh, really don't wanna go!
Expert 2: expert meeting. I should be in bed sleeping!
Expert 6: guys does my hair? look gotta get ready for the experts meeting?

From what I read, it was a grand summit in which all of the elite in the city come together and discuss matters such as how to gain more and more power. How to maintain the iron fist and further complicate the crew and cause chaos and disarray.

It sounded like fun.

My eyes were still getting used to the light from the morning sun. I became increasingly disgusted by the messages I was reading in my news feed. My head was dizzy and my vision was blurred. I began typing on impulse:

experts. what a joke! ha!

With these words, I changed history.

Within the next 6 seconds, I received my first reply. It was from one of the head experts. I hadn't even realized that there were "heads". It read:

Expert 4: this is coming from someone who wanted to be one! don't hate!

I chose to stay quiet and the numerous replies started pouring in from more and more experts.

Expert 5: really, dude? Come on. Not cool.
Expert 2: you're just mad because they didn't let you be one.
Expert 6: smh you're such a lame. lol
Expert 1: aww u tight becuz u not an expert
Expert 9: y u mad tho?

I remained silent through the entire debacle. Not typing a single word. And I received one more reply:

Expert 3: if someone had pushed themselves harder, then he would have been joining us here right now. He's not elite like the rest of us.

She was my best friend. I loved her. We were a team. We were supposed to be immortal together.

But I laughed.
I laughed hard.
Harder than I have ever laughed in my life.
I couldn't breathe.

I laughed at the blasphemy. No one deserved to become forever more than me. I knew this. They knew this.

I started from nothing.

I was able to see through them. What they were all about. They were about more than just glory. They were evil and corruption. They were police. They were underlings for the gods and nothing more, I wanted nothing of it.

I felt the backlash and I loved it. I laughed even harder. Into a frenzy. I was then able to appreciate what amazing things few words can do. I realized in a flash what I had done. Almost the entire expert collective read what I wrote that wondrous morning.

I was able to picture it right then and there. The experts sitting at their meeting smiling and hopeful on the outside, but inside knowing that someone was laughing at them. Someone out there thought they were nothing more than a joke. Someone out there didn't take them seriously. Someone was out there laughing at them. Mocking them. Mocking their name. Their creed. Their honor. I knew for a fact that deep down, their stomachs churned with embarrassment.

Fuck a badge.

I was shot heard round the world.
I was accidental billionaire.
My words spread like deadly wildfire.

I was slander.

Words of hate continued to pour into my notifications. Long after the meeting ended. One after the other. I loved it more and more. And then for one glorious moment, I read what had to have been one of the most amazing words I have ever read in my life. A comment that read:

Mindless Server Drone Number 17: right on.

And then one more:

Mindless Server Drone Number 4: finally someone went up and said something!

I was leader
I was revolutionary
I was pen and ink
I was thunderous voice
I was change
I was glorious smear campaign
I was man standing in front of the tank at Tienamen Square

I was legacy.

This, I did not plan. "This turned out way better than whatever bullshit I thought up last night," I thought to myself.

I struck a gold mine.

I can't wait to go to work tomorrow.

[end of part 7]

Friday, June 8, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 6

How do I stop them? Send me an answer. Go do I end the regime? How do I incarcerate the police? How do I free my brethren? How do I end the oppression?

I stayed up all night.

Alone in my room.

Idea after idea. Scrapped papers littered all over the floor. These monsters had to be stopped. Sketching. Scheming. The perfect plan! I got it! I had it all laid out. A masterpiece. I knew who I needed. I knew what I needed. I knew everything that was going to happen and when, and if this plan is pulled off flawlessly,

History will change.

Eyes getting heavy.
I will soon leave my mark.

I was abortion of atrocity.
I was crisis aversion.
I will soon free my people.

They will hear my thunderous message.

I will soon be leader.
Revolutionary.
Pariah.

My name will be known throughout. I will impregnate the dream.

When this plan comes to surface, kings will be toppled. Gods and demigods alike will fall. Fall hard. Tyrants will know rape.

Experts can die.

I will be legacy.
I will be legend.
I will be forever.

Go to sleep.

[end of Part 6]

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 5

"That's what I thought,"

I said quietly and fiercely to him. I have been watching this one for a number of days now. He's planning something. I know it. I can already tell that he doesn't like us.

I can feel him scheming.

I am Expert Number 6 and I am part of the secret society. I am secret police. I rule the floor with an iron fist and electricity in my veins with my brethren. We strike down any and all opposition. It is our birthright. They outnumber us. We outgun them.

I walked back to the table with my brother Expert Number 2. "Worthless little shits aren't they?" I muttered, and he laughed with me. Mindless Server Drones Numbers 3 all the way through 12 were all folding napkins and wrapping silverware while Number 2 and I laughed and reflected on the night. In complete relaxation.

I can hear their bones aching and cracking under intense pressure, and their souls moaning quietly. I can feel their muscles stretching in pain. I can feel their tender ligaments and sore joints.

I'm getting wet.

Sure, the night was busy, and there was a lot to do, but that's what the Drones are here for. The gods made me into an expert because they knew I was good enough to become forever. I am power. I am authority. I am totalitarian. I am ultimate.

I am beauty.
I am perfect.
I am complete.

My job?

I serve.

But I also give orders. I am commander. I am lieutenant. I am chief. I say jump. They ask how high. I am above and they are below. The striking blindness of my badge stunts the vision of anyone who takes a glance. I steal their visions.

We are experts.
We are the lions in the jungle.
We are kings.

We crush aspirations.
We demolish dreams.
We are unstoppable.

I am everything these things, these nothings have ever wanted to be, and will never become. These servers are the gum under my shoe. Especially the scheming one. "Who the fuck does he think he is?" I asked Number 2. He answered, "Don't worry about him. If he even tries anything, we'll make sure he gets his just deserts." We both smirked.

We rule.
We take.
We conquer.

I hear a voice coming from behind me. It's one of those little peons. That very same one. Him. The scheming one.

"Hey, Number 6! I have a question for you!

[end of Part 5]

Untitled Project

Part 4

I was revolution's wake.
I was game changer.
I was legacy.

"If you think you can do a better job, then why don't you just become an expert?" asked Mindless Server Drone Number 14. I answered in a quiet and hushed voice. As if defeated, "Because the gods we worship decided not to make me into one."

I was uprising.
I was shot heard round the world.
I was conspiracy.

The world needed to know about the horrors that the underlings put us through. It was not out of jealousy anymore. I was Jack's desire for change. I was plan for sabotage. My server brethren continued to leave their shifts with their heads sunk sad and low while the experts rode out on their white chariots. Their shining badges signifying the sacred honor to their code. Drinking wine and the sweat and tears of their subordinates. It fueled them. It strengthened them.

We were united.
We were divided.

The experts were seven sins, but they served too. They deliver the slop to the pigs. They bring home the same bacon that Server Drone Number 42 took home. And myself. And Number 17. And Number 20. We were equals on the serving floor, but on the upper echelon, they were higher on the totem pole than us. "Fuck everyone here," muttered Number 8 as he crashed into the chair, relieving his body from the grueling night.

He was team player.

Experts Number 2 and 6 walked up the stairs to watch the fruits of their own undoing. They briskly walked by while the rest of us caught our breath and they squeaked and squawked, "What a crazy night huh?" asked number 2. Number 6 responded, "I know! I don't think I have ever worked so hard in my life!"

I whispered.

"Standing around and barking orders, and then running to the back to do absolutely nothing must really take a toll on the body."

Expert Number 6 turned her head fiercely and her beautiful mane flew in the air. What did you say? She asked. She sat down at the table in front of me. Confronted me. She calmed her tone. "Hey. I don't want to scold you. I just want to know what you said. Can you repeat yourself? Please? Tell me what it is you said." Her voice was as soft and fluid as fine silk. Our eyes met. I saw the lightning in her pupils. Her retinas sparked. She was ready to strike.

Seconds.
Seconds.

"Nothing." I said.

She smirked.

"That's what I thought."

They were wrath.
They were vanity.
They were sloth.

They were the corrupt secret society that ruled with an iron fist. The waved flags of red and black. They were Gestapo. They were Regime. They rained oppression.

They had to be stopped.

But how?

[end of Part 4]

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 3

"Hey! Come here!" hushed one of the gods. She rained fire and hell every single shift, but tonight was different. This moment would change everything. "I see you're getting better" she said. "You've been flipping tables like I've never seen before."

I was legacy.

The snake continued to hiss. We might have an opening for an expert position with your name on it. She laughed with a sly grin. She revealed fangs. She was one of the gods. I quickly rose in the ranks. Continuously overlooking everything that made the regime what it truly was. It made me strong.

I was in it for the money.
Nothing more.
I was integrity.

Mindless Server Drone Number 3 was my sister. My confidante. My best friend. She wanted what I wanted. She wanted to live forever. It was the end of the shift and we both looked up at the Wall of Shame, as I would secretly call it. Those who bore the name "Expert" gained immortality and earned a place on the wall.

That's gonna be us one day, she said to me as we looked at the highly coveted pedestal. The names in bright and shiny gold. It was dazzling. We wanted it.

We were team.

She didn't know I was somewhat offered a spot. What if I became immortal and she didn't? She works just as hard as I do. What if she doesn't become forever? It didn't matter. We both worked. We kept working.

We were integrity.

Months.
Months.
Pass by.

I grew weaker. The regime kept pounding their mighty hammers and my server brethren continuously oppressed. They waved their flags of red and black. Gods don't die.

Experts don't die.

No other word about an offer to be an expert was uttered. It was the beginning of the shift and the mighty Zeus flew down from his perch to preach us words of hope and goodwill before our shift. His voice boomed, "I would like to announce that Mindless Server Drone Number 3 will soon be starting training to become an expert." My jaw dropped. She was going to become immortal. No longer the oppressed. She will soon become the oppressor. She will become forever.

I was legend.

I thought back to a conversation we had. We need to become experts, she told me. Think of all the good we can do! She yelped and squealed. We could become forever. All we need is a chance.

Zeus spoke once more, If you all want an equal chance to become experts, you all need to step your game up. We want to see the sales number skyrocket if you want any chance to become forever! Zeus hath spoken. He flew back up to his perch.

I was suppressed envy. Over the next week, I witnessed a brainwashing. I watched the gods carve out another immortal. I observed the birth of an expert. I walked upstairs to visit my friend number 3 during the training. I watched as the screen spun out of control. She watched and absorbed propaganda.

She turned her head back with eyes of jet black. She was no longer Mindless Server Drone Number 3. Expert 3 yelled, "GO AWAY!"

I continued to work hard while my best friend patrolled the floor. Her fist shook with electrifying anger and authority. She was no longer the confidante I knew. She was booming thunder. She was Gestapo. She was police. She was thunderous abuse of authority.

That could've been me. She oppressed my collective elite. She treated us like trash. Like scum. They all did. They made me sick. There were no rules. Their word was law. It was abhorrent. Expert Number 3 led a driving force. She made the experts stronger and stronger while my collective grew weaker and weaker.

Something needed to change.
Something needed to be done.
A revolution needed to happen.

This was when I became leader.
This was when I became crusader.

This was when I became pariah

What a sordid little place.

[end of Part 3]

Untitled Project

Part 2

What a sordid little place.

There were no rules.

We watched blankly at the screen in the kitchen to see what was ready to be delivered to the pigs waiting at our tables. Us waiting on them. "I can't take this anymore. It's driving me crazy!" cried Mindless Server Drone Number 27 as she ran into the kitchen. Tears streamed recklessly down her face. Her psyche crushed into a million tiny little pieces. She ran to the freezer room to vomit. It was hard to witness.

It made my stomach hurt.

The management team were gods of their domain. Corrupt titans of the industry that often turned seldom seen peace into chaos. Constantly changing rules that were never there. The experts were their underlings. Masters and commanders. And then there was us. The slaves. The robots. The mindless drones.

What a grim little place. "Service with a smile" was our motto. None of us wanted to force smiles for the pigs. We all had to. "YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL" was written in big bold marker on the wipe board as we made our way to leave the kitchen. No encouraging words. "We are not special" we said quietly to ourselves when we left the doors at the end of our shift.

Fuck it.
Let's get drunk.
And forget everything.

The experts were the underlings of the management. Second in command. We obeyed them. Their word was law. We were mirror images. They carried badges on their chest to signify the honor to their code. "I've been one for almost 8 months now. Maybe one day you'll get to be one too." boasted Expert Number 5.

It was a busy night and the kitchen was fucking up. Again. I thought back to the beginning of the shift. The experts were preparing us for the night with reassuring words. "We are here for you," said Expert Number 7. "We are your friends. You can come to us if you have any problems." said Expert Number 4. "We are here to help you." they all said together.

This steak is too fucking overdone! Yelled guest number 37. I ran upstairs to find the first expert I could find. "I need your help," I pleaded. Expert number 7 was a brazen haired beauty worthy of a magazine spread. She sat idly at one of the tables admiring herself in a mini sized mirror she had in her hand, "Fuck outta he with that shit!" she yelled. Her voice boomed throughout the balcony area. "I got my own problems to deal with!"

Reassuring words.
Reassuring words.

I was left with an extremely irritable guest and no dollar for my trouble.

The gods were the ones who chose who they wanted to corrupt and brainwash to do their bidding. The experts. They were police. They were nazi. They were regime. They were Gestapo. With ties of red and shirts of black. They wore aprons with the emblem. Badges of silver with their namesake.

The experts were power. Unholy fists of lightning. They were greed. They were sloth. They were vanity. They were wrath.

They were untouchable.
They were immortal.

I wanted it.
I wanted everything.

What a sordid little place.

[end of Part 2]

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 1

I was legend. I was dynasty. I was legacy.

But before all of that, I was rookie. I was young and naive. He crept up from behind me, and said "My guest totally gave me head in the bathroom just now." What a sordid little place. The management was no better than the guests. This was a place fueled by gossip and hearsay. I learned that the hard way.

I was legend.

The management was tyrannical. This place is Nazi regime. They turned us into robots. We clock in and slip on our masks. We were hallowed husks of our former selves. "Fuck all of these people," said Mindless Server Drone Number 22 as she wrapped silverware and folded napkins. Our jobs were to feed the trough for the pigs to eat. The pigs would then leave a dollar bill on the table for our trouble. We clock out and get drunk.

I was legacy.

But I was rookie first. I was subordinate. I was kicked around. I was hazed. I left with 80 bucks in my pocket every night feeding the pigs. Delivering their slop. I felt like a prostitute. "Service with a smile" was our motto. Our masks were broken, torn and shattered. None of us wanted to smile for them. We had to. We were collective elite. The best of the best. They were my brothers and sisters.

I became their leader.
I became their crusader.

I became pariah.

We all vied for the ultimate prize. To be immortalized. "I want to become an expert!" said Mindless Server Drone Number 3. She was part of the collective elite. She was my best friend. To become an expert was to become elite in the eyes of the Regime. To become an expert was to gain power. To become an expert was to become legacy. To be part of a sacred society of corrupt egomaniacs.

I wanted it.

What a sordid little place.

[end of Part 1]