"You failed again!" Eric Raymond shouted at his tortured genius, Techrat. He wanted to say more, but something about Techrat always stopped him. He always looked so pitiful; sounded so sad. What made it worse was he knew that there was nothing wrong with the machines. It was the operators—people the neither he nor Techrat—had full control over that was the real problem. But he couldn't take it out on them. They were his money makers, and the only other people who shared his animosity towards Jem and her posse.
Techrat stared at him across his desk; the fluorescent lighting giving his already pale skin an even more sickly hue. So pathetic. Somehow, having his genius trapped in such a frail frame angered him. It was what had attracted him to The Misfits; they had energy. If it wasn't for a chance encounter one night he would have never given Techrat a second glance. He had been scouting in a night club when he had seen the most incredible light show. Techrat had been the one responsible; well, the machine he had created had.
"It's not my fault," he whined in that scratchy voice he possessed. He was clutching the broken remnants like it was a dead child, which to him it probably was. "If they were just less stupid, this wouldn't happen!"
Eric sighed. He knew that. He shouldn't be taking out his anger on him.
"I know, Techrat. Don't worry, I'll tell them to be extra careful next time."
He nodded, and looked somehow sad now that the scene was over.
"I'll make it even stronger! This won't happen again," he looked Raymond in the eyes. "Don't worry."
Eric slammed his fists onto the desk.
"But it will! Don't you understand?! The Misfits are forces of nature! They destroy all around them, whether they mean to or not!"
He shrugged. "You should control them better. I can only do so much."
It was a remark catered to annoy Raymond and it did the trick, though he had no idea why the man was picking a fight. His nonchalance at his frustration was what sent him over the edge at last.
"Control them BETTER?! You trying controlling that pack of hyenas, you anorexic freak!" he grabbed the man's hair and shook him violently, and was surprised to see him go flying across the room while he still held the hair. He dropped it quickly, like he would if he were holding a real rat.
Techrat remained on his office floor, rubbing his head. There was a pink spot where the glue had ripped off skin.
"What. Was. That." Eric asked, both stunned and irritated that he was in such a bizarre situation. And also that the man had led him to lose his temper so badly. His violent outbursts were usually carried out through Zipper. He stood up and stalked over to him; he was making no effort to stand once again.
"I said: What. Was. That."
Techrat looked up at him, "I'm bald."
"I can see that, you idiot," Eric seethed. "Why do you have that monstrosity on your head?"
He whimpered. "I-I like it."
"It's hideous!" Eric screamed. "If you're already bald, go all way one or the other, but not this disgusting halfsies junk!"
He grew even more annoyed with Techrat blubbering on the floor and yanked him up by the back of his coat. The man stood briefly before tumbling forward onto his chest. Raymond was at a loss of what to do next and froze.
"No one has ever yelled at me before, " Techrat half-cried.
"I'm sure that's not true, for a tortured genius such as yourself," Eric said snidely, trying to extricate himself from the other man.
Techrat let himself be pushed away, but then he leaned close again.
"But you're the best! Never with such force! I've never lost my hair before!"
"Make sure it doesn't stay lost! It's on my desk, leaking grease into the wood!"
Techrat bowed his head in submission and scurried over to the desk to retrieve the item, stuffing it into his coat. It was late, no one was on duty to take note of his secret as he left.
Eric Raymond took a deep breath and realized all his tensions had melted away. Unfair as it might had been, taking out his aggression on Techrat had cured him of his depression.
"Thank you, Techrat. You may show yourself out. Don't let the door hit you."
He tried to make his way back to desk to finish the paper he had left, but the other man wouldn't get out of the way.
"What do you want, Techrat?" His anger was now actually directed at the other man, instead of using the other as a proxy for the Misfits and his rotten luck in general.
"Th-that felt good, when you yelled at me, didn't it?"
Eric said nothing and continued to try to go around him. Techrat kept blocking his path.
"Get out of my way, you oaf!"
"…I like being yelled at." He came closer. Eric pushed him away.
"You're crazy!"
He came back again full force.
"Get off of me!"
Instead, he sat in Eric's leather chair and gulped, "Make me." Then he gripped the chair tight with both hands, showing he wasn't planning on leaving. Eric passed a hand over his face. This was just what he needed. The one thing he thought he could count on—the closest thing to a machine he had and it goes on the fritz. He easily picked up the slight man and tossed him gently away.
"Happy now?"
"No!"
And he started to attack his legs, grabbing and clawing and trying to bite him so it was all he could do to keep himself from being injured. He kicked and shoved and stomped and tried to run, and he was tackled from behind and Techrat was trying to smother him with his body, and then he just started punching wildly and writhing and doing all he could to get away and hurling all the insults he had ever learned at the other man.
Then, suddenly, he realized that he had pinned the other man down and had just been beating on him for who knows how long, and Techrat had done nothing about it. He stopped, wondering when he had started to revel in the exhilaration of violence—at having another so completely at his mercy. His pride wanted to forget the whole thing; but he needed this man's brilliance.
"…Techrat—" started, very slowly and calmly, like he was explaining a concept to one of those Starlight brats.
Techrat put his finger to his own lips, making a "Shhhh" sound.
"Anytime you feel angry…please," he begged. "I can take so much more. Didn't it feel good?"
Eric Raymond looked at the other man warily, not sure of what to make of it. He had to admit that he was right, though. He never felt so alive as he did when he was causing others misery.
He very carefully took the other man's hand and intertwined his fingers together with him.
"Sometimes I can be a very, very cruel man. I never ask for anything."
Techrat looked up at him, rubbing his newly blossoming bruises with a joy Raymond had never seen before, before putting his hand on Eric's cheek.
"Take it."