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!"
"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.
"Nothing." I said.
"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.
[end of Part 4]