'ERROR: INCORRECT USERNAME/PASSWORD INPUT'
Of all the times to see that pop up on my laptop and it had to be right now. No, it ain't my fault for leaving my repair reports until the last minute. That freakin' Jew deals with that shit, not me who has better things to do.
I'm gonna try one more time, for luck...nope, it's coming back with the same message. Ugh...I'm going to have to talk to him, aren't I? At least his office is pretty close to the 'common space'...don't look at my words like that. It's a common room but as an open space since we don't have any rooms to spare for something like that. Oh well, time to get off my ass and get this done sooner rather than later, when the little Jew will claim to be 'busy'.
Wow, there's a lot of piles of paper in that room. I almost feel sorry for how much work he has, and then I remember that this is Flinch we're talking about. Gotta make sure he's actually doing something in here, and it's not long until he notices yours truly making his appearance.
"Melvin," he says, rather casually. "Not like you to pay my office a visit. What do you want?"
"Laptop's being an asshole," I reply, gently dropping it onto his large pile of paperwork. Yeah, it's messed it up and a couple of pages have fallen onto the floor but really couldn't give a damn.
"Guess dogs aren't the only ones to take after their owners then," he responds, looking me up and down quite dismissively as he takes hold of my laptop. "What's the problem?"
"It keeps saying incorrect password. But I know I haven't changed it."
"No, you haven't," he says, as if it's something I should have known already. "I have. It's been three months and everyone needs to pick new passwords."
"Hey, don't call me a dumb-ass, you freakin'-"
Hang on...he didn't call me a dumb-ass, did he? Damn, we've had the same insults hurled at each other for so long that it's almost like a natural reaction. But then calling him a Jew isn't an insult, it's truth and a frickin' difficult one to swallow if I were...you know, a freakin' Jew.
"So," Flinch begins, looking at me. "What was your old password?"
Erm...oh crap. Not really something I want to say out loud incase any of the other Sents overhear and think I'm being an asshole again.
"It's...Stupid Jew," I finally manage to say...ugh. He's looking at me like I'm the worst person in the world, either that or he's silently daring me to repeat what I just muttered. There's this awkward silence between us now and I sure as hell ain't gonna be the one to break it.
"What was that?"
"Stupid Jew! It's Stupid Jew, ok?!"
"Ok," Flinch immediately replies, not skipping a beat. It's almost as if he expected it if the look on his face means anything. Ok, what's he...he's ripped off a small bit of paper from a blank page amongst the piles on his desk.
"What are you doing?"
"Giving you your new password," he replies, handing me a little tag of paper which he's just been scribbling on. Wait a minute...we're not allowed to pick our own passwords anymore? Screw that. Seriously, screw that. There's no way I'm letting that sneaky Jew choose my own words and get one up on me at the same time.
I guess I'd better read what he's written if I'm going to get into my laptop and get my report finished...mgibbs1. I think that's what he's written, Flinch has never been one for neat handwriting when it's got nothing to do with his precious reports.
"Bit unoriginal, isn't it?" I find myself asking. Ok, I sound like a bit of a dick but can you blame me for seeming so unimpressed?
"It's what I've been giving everyone," he answers, giving a shrug but as least he isn't looking at me like I went too far or something. "Simple enough to remember, but you can change it in the options once you log yourself in. It's the new system Copper left me with since...that incident."
Oh yeah, that incident...how the hell did I forget about that since I was the one who initially got him drunk, and by him, I mean Robin. Myself, Robin, Luke and Smith- we'd been talking about our then-new passwords, making light of who'd chosen what and all it took for our initial password-choosing privileges to be taken away was a wasted Robin to log into Flinch's account and change all his file names to...well, think about how many words you know to describe your wang. Drunk Robin knows at least twice as many. The little douche hates talking about it but it's the perfect way to knock him down to being the freakin' coward that he is. You know, when he starts getting a little cocky.
"So I'm free to change this once I get onto my account, right?"
He's nodding, which is good enough for me. Heh, I guess the Jew has his uses, which is something I never thought I'd admit. Least I can do for him is to finally pick those pages up from off the floor...oh, they're just spares of form A120. Those are what we use to report equipment use and keep track of what kind of equipment everyone's using. Haven't had to change my lot for the last five years now, my Interceptor and my Magnum are all I need.
Best get my laptop off his work pile and get out of way. Ten seconds later, I'm back in the common space and looks like I'm once again the only person here. Thank gawd, I don't wanna be hanging with any of those goody two-shoes losers like Robin or Katja or whoever. Now, let's see if this new password...yes, mgibbs1 actually works! Finally, I can get this report finished without having anyone on my back, just gotta get my document folder open and have this bad boy load-
….it's not here.
What did he do with my repair report?
...
Seriously, what did that no-good, freakin' Jew do with my repair report?!
