Dropping the Bass
Or whatever equivalent sort of bullshit you'd call it.
Listen, I have a job to do, and while I don't exactly do it at a regular pace, I'd like to not hear fucking Slow Ride, Don't Fear the Reaper, and any other song that seems to just be mocking me right now.
Fucking issues all the time lately. First, a busted laptop.
Second, shitty Wi-Fi. I get it, it's magical and fully paid for, but I'm currently trying to offload so much data on to our personal servers. It'd be nice to not be stuck at a loading screen with a blue circle buffering at about 1% every ten seconds.
And third, most of all, this website has been fucking with me. Not letting me change fonts, highlighting everything in red. Even my writing is off, sounds like it's been fucking covered in krazy glue and glitter. It happens here or there, maybe some mistranslated wording, or even expressions.
I sound.. nice. Even fucking cheery.
I said "Thank you very much" to one of our maintenance Rabbits. Looked at me like I grew a second head and sauntered off. The fuck is wrong with me? Haven't yelled or fucking swore in a long time, nor does my usual intimidating stare seem to have any effect.
Do I have some sort of feathery guardian angel on my shoulder, keeping me in line or something?
Please. Like some punky little cherub could ever hold a candle to me. I'm a Shadow, not some sort of lower class whelpy bitch boy demon that can be deterred by kind words and teary eyed condolences.
Do I miss Jack? Yes.
Is it getting to me? Yes.
... I'm not admitting shit any farther down than that. Because something else just happened to take my attention away from my own fucked up musings.
A presence at the side of my desk. Great, my near perfect detection skills are fucking up too.
Oh look, someone from the kitchen is standing at my desk. Disheveled black hair, young, but with a sort of... warm air about him. Chef's jacket seems a bit big on him, white pants too. Nothing unusual there, of course. We get all sorts in Sanctuary, but.. I can't put my finger on it. He's too fucking normal, too fucking friendly.
He looks sort of nervous, but it's not like anyone isn't around the Number Two of Sanctuary. He's holding something for me, kind of like he's bringing his dad a cold beer on a hot day and hoping for a pat on the fucking head.
... What.. what is this? A cup of coffee? I didn't ask for this, damn it.
He sort of shrugs and puts it on my desk, and starts speaking in what I could only describe as the most peaceful fucking tone ever. But it still made me want to tear my ears off.
"Special order, boss. Looked like you needed the pick me up."
"...No. Yes. I told the kitchen that I wasn't to be disturbed either. How did you even get in my office without me knowing?""
He smirked. The little fucking punk.
"The door was open and you looked like you were going to pass out. Can't exactly drop by on a guy who always seems to let people in, you know?"
He sauntered off towards the open door, his back toward me as he kept talking.
"I just dropped by anyway. I'm busy and needed to see someone. Clearly she isn't here and I'm wasting my time. But I can't help but want to give a stiff one to a guy working his ass off, so here, enjoy that, you grumpy old fuck. I'll show myself the way out."
The boy... man.. Thing that was just in my office and insulted me in the nicest way possible.. just up and walked away without another word.
"Wait.. what the fuck. What the fucking hell was that supposed to mean?"
But he vanished into thin air. The chef's outfit nicely folded and left on the table with a note.
It said three words.
"I'll find her."
... Where the fuck are the security teams? Who the fuck was that guy?
... And why did he seem so familiar?
- Tag
Listen, I have a job to do, and while I don't exactly do it at a regular pace, I'd like to not hear fucking Slow Ride, Don't Fear the Reaper, and any other song that seems to just be mocking me right now.
Fucking issues all the time lately. First, a busted laptop.
Second, shitty Wi-Fi. I get it, it's magical and fully paid for, but I'm currently trying to offload so much data on to our personal servers. It'd be nice to not be stuck at a loading screen with a blue circle buffering at about 1% every ten seconds.
And third, most of all, this website has been fucking with me. Not letting me change fonts, highlighting everything in red. Even my writing is off, sounds like it's been fucking covered in krazy glue and glitter. It happens here or there, maybe some mistranslated wording, or even expressions.
I sound.. nice. Even fucking cheery.
I said "Thank you very much" to one of our maintenance Rabbits. Looked at me like I grew a second head and sauntered off. The fuck is wrong with me? Haven't yelled or fucking swore in a long time, nor does my usual intimidating stare seem to have any effect.
Do I have some sort of feathery guardian angel on my shoulder, keeping me in line or something?
Please. Like some punky little cherub could ever hold a candle to me. I'm a Shadow, not some sort of lower class whelpy bitch boy demon that can be deterred by kind words and teary eyed condolences.
Do I miss Jack? Yes.
Is it getting to me? Yes.
... I'm not admitting shit any farther down than that. Because something else just happened to take my attention away from my own fucked up musings.
A presence at the side of my desk. Great, my near perfect detection skills are fucking up too.
Oh look, someone from the kitchen is standing at my desk. Disheveled black hair, young, but with a sort of... warm air about him. Chef's jacket seems a bit big on him, white pants too. Nothing unusual there, of course. We get all sorts in Sanctuary, but.. I can't put my finger on it. He's too fucking normal, too fucking friendly.
He looks sort of nervous, but it's not like anyone isn't around the Number Two of Sanctuary. He's holding something for me, kind of like he's bringing his dad a cold beer on a hot day and hoping for a pat on the fucking head.
... What.. what is this? A cup of coffee? I didn't ask for this, damn it.
He sort of shrugs and puts it on my desk, and starts speaking in what I could only describe as the most peaceful fucking tone ever. But it still made me want to tear my ears off.
"Special order, boss. Looked like you needed the pick me up."
"...No. Yes. I told the kitchen that I wasn't to be disturbed either. How did you even get in my office without me knowing?""
He smirked. The little fucking punk.
"The door was open and you looked like you were going to pass out. Can't exactly drop by on a guy who always seems to let people in, you know?"
He sauntered off towards the open door, his back toward me as he kept talking.
"I just dropped by anyway. I'm busy and needed to see someone. Clearly she isn't here and I'm wasting my time. But I can't help but want to give a stiff one to a guy working his ass off, so here, enjoy that, you grumpy old fuck. I'll show myself the way out."
The boy... man.. Thing that was just in my office and insulted me in the nicest way possible.. just up and walked away without another word.
"Wait.. what the fuck. What the fucking hell was that supposed to mean?"
But he vanished into thin air. The chef's outfit nicely folded and left on the table with a note.
It said three words.
"I'll find her."
... Where the fuck are the security teams? Who the fuck was that guy?
... And why did he seem so familiar?
- Tag
1.) Blogger has been eating my comments for months. It should go fuck itself with a flaming chainsaw cheese grate dildo. I'm sure you can find one in one of Morningstar's graves.
ReplyDelete2.) How many times do I have to tell you to stop emulating Hades from that human movie Hercules? He's funny as shit, but you're a lot fucking nicer than he is. He perpetually had a stick shoved up his ass and a superiority complex. You do not, and also CHOSE this job of yours.
3.) You have got to learn to stop worrying about me, Tagalong. I mean it. Why on earth you choose to worry about a woman that technically can't die is beyond me.
Now. To the point I've been trying to tell you for a fucking MONTH..
I finally got that promotion I wanted so badly. Presentation went.. as well as could be expected.
It uh.. came with a few price tags attached. And consequences.
But hey, I'm alive! Thanks to some medic brat named Asa..
Now. I need you to follow my next directions very carefully.
Shut your laptop. Pour out your coffee in the sink. Close the door.
Lay down on the couch. Get some sleep.
AND STOP BADGERING THE FUCKING KITCHEN STAFF, TAG!
....I happen to like that kid. Be nice to him if you see him again, will you?
Fine. And yeah I've had the same problem. Trying to reply back to you is like trying to staple letters to a rowdy carrier pigeon. I'll relax. And for the record, I happen to prefer Mercury. You know, clip on sunglasses, laissez faire and flirting with Aphrodite... It's a good movie. Not exactly what I call Disney's most accurate portrayal. And you like that guy? Fine, I'll be nice to him... Maybe some sleep will do nicely.
ReplyDelete*narrows eyes* Hermes was a good dude, if a bit fast to fly away.
DeleteI'm not telling you to be nice to everyone, ya fuckin' weirdo.
Just that guy.
If he could sneak up on you, and didn't do shit to harm you with that ability, don't you think that *maybe* he's important to all this?
Well sue me, I'm fucking tired. But fine, just. You know, I'm curious about how he could even do that, let along get into our little slice of weird heaven? Mind telling me or are you keeping that close to the chest? Fine, as far as I know, he's priority number one. He'll get a cookie and a glass of milk next time he visits that I'll hand deliver myself.
ReplyDelete