Tony wished with all his heart that he was rich. That he did not have to worry about money; motherfucking money! As he always silently called it. He sweated for it under bright hot suns; shivered for it on days with -20 wind chills; got humiliated for it by people who joked that he could load more bags of salt than the eight he was already tasked to carry. But by the way his temper kept building, a pink slip instead of a winning lottery ticket was more likely in his future.
Nicol the vandal
Nicol raised the spray can and took aim at the church sign that proclaimed an event related to “Comedy Sportz” without regret. God had betrayed him for the last time.
He sprayed and sprayed; sprayed until the word “Bullshit” appeared in crude letters on first one side, and then the other. “This place isn’t about God! You all deserve to die,” soon appeared below the expletive.
A few minutes later Nicol appeared in front of the church across the street. Soon the word “propaganda” appeared on the sign that proclaimed “God loves you.” Then Nicol aimed his spray can below “propaganda” and added “God is a traitor, if not a big fat lie” one letter at a time.
Sated at last, he flung the spray can into a nearby dumpster and stormed off down the silent street not giving a rusty f-word about his deed.
Back home, he sat up for the rest of the night smoking the last of his weed feeling not only glad, but damn glad.
Chadwick lumbered off down the hall. He had no idea that now he had done it all thanks to his little outburst a few minutes ago. A performance none other than United Food’s district manager had witnessed. “Get him out of here!” He demanded to the store manager.
The store manager caught the eye of the assistant department manager Chadwick served under, beckoned him over … and soon Chadwick was on his way home facing either voluntary or forced termination.
He was so stunned, he could not think.
Nick and the moneyed elite
Nick hated the moneyed elite. “It’s all their fucking fault!” Was his common refrain when it came to the economic woes America suffered these days. He especially loathed the moneyed elite likes those fucking no-talent hacks and whores named the Kardashians ; they who loved to put their insipid lives on “reality” TV for all the world to see. They were the scummiest of the scum in Nick’s eyes. Why can’t terrorists pick on assholes like them? Nick sometimes grumbled in silence. (Well, the men anyway; Nick still respected the women even if they were tramps.) Instead, all those kill-crazy fucks did was kill innocent people like him and the next John or Jane Q. Public. Nick just could not understand it.