Stan opens his apartment door slowly and creepy like because that always made him feel like a creeper, which was what he wanted to be when he grew up. Once in the dark room, he was immediately confronted by the computer on the opposite side. The monitor seemed like a spotlight fixed on him. Its beckoning light draws Stan in. Sends him subliminal messages to the affect of..."GET TO FUCKING WORK."
They were received efficiently.
Stan grabbed his adrenaline shots he stole from the homeless guy by his door a week ago and injected like 2, 3 or 19 of them.
Time for work.
"All I have to do is finish the body tag, and the footer tag, nothing too hard really. Just got to ….. ….ohh fuck, what was I saying? Oh yea, feed the cat"
Surely enough, within 10 seconds of sitting down, he was back up.
"Here kitty kitty kitty, I've got a treat for you! The homeless mans finger finally fell off. I know you've been waiting for that!"
Stan spent about 10 minutes looking for that cat when he went to go ask the homeless guy if he seen her.
Stan immediately noticed the cat's collar being used to hold down a bandage on the homeless mans leg.
"….where's…my cat?"
*mouth full* "I dono"
"Oh you lying sack of shit you ate my fucking cat didn't you? God…mother….Grrrr, I was saving her for tonight you ass! Now I have to code hungry...You owe me a cat!"
Saying the word code put the idea back in Stan's head and so he took his seat again.
This time he actually paid attention to the screen, well that is until the characters in the coding started swirling around and all started to look like a foreign language.
"What the hell? Shit, if this is hell, I might just be entertained!"
He fell into a trance of watching these characters float around and make different words for hours on end, the adrenaline rush finally wore off around 4; Plunging Stan back into reality.
*alarm clock sounds throughout the house*
Stan nails it right in the middle of its digits with his hidden Boy Scout knife.
"Wait…alarm means….4:00am! Shit shit shit, my appointment is at 5 am, ohh umm... ehhh... I definitely can't present this! This is just a couple of things I hit while trying to catch those damn codes"
Stan frantically threw himself around…literally…for no real good reason.
*neighbor from the below stabs at sealing with not a broom but a katana in attempt to stab Stan and quiet the noise*
"Oh I know, I'll find a really good website and copy the code, then present that to the industry man. The industry apes don't know shit about how things work on the technical level."
Stan found a site called Natas's home that seemed professional enough.
Copied, personalized. Stolen.
He took flight … off the coach, and then he headed to the appointment.