Chapter Three: Better off Dead

"You suck."

Great. Just great. It seems like Job has managed to hire yet another disturbed youth to be my bodyguard. I should definitely fire him once I reach home. His ineptitude is appalling. What was this one's name again? Oh, yes. "Isn't a defining characteristic of faith supposed to be silence?"

"Ha-ha, not funny, you moron." Well, at least she has a healthy sense of humor. Not. Maybe I'll postpone firing her until next week. "Why don't you just crawl up a hole and die?" Then again, maybe not.

I choose to ignore that question on the grounds that it is probably rhetorical. "Be silent."

"Bite me." Okay, then, never mind about that.

Thank god, the plane is here. I can get rid of this nuisance. The pilot comes out of the cockpit and reaches me, shaking my hand. "Mornin', Mr. Luther. Me name's Mike, Ah'll be yas pilot today. Ye jess cloimb up thurr, me an' this gal'll take care of th' rest." I nod as I try to puzzle through his thick accent of undetermined origin.

"HEY! I never agreed to 'take care of the rest,' that isn't part of the job description!!"

Well, this is nice. I now have a way to get rid of the annoying bodyguard. I walk onto my plane without saying anything.

"Hey!! No fair!"

Humph. I hate this job. Stupid planes. Stupid bosses. Stupid Luthers. Stupid world. Stupid weird, probably fake accents. Stupid, stupid stupidness.

And what's this?! The guy is just walking away. I thought he said we would take care of the stupid rest of the stupid baggage and stupid other stupid boss' stuff. He looks back at me. I suppose he is trying to get me to follow him. Fine. I will.

Stupid idiot.

We come to the baggage belt as I drag Mr. Stupid-Head New Boss-Boy's ridiculously heavy luggage in my wake. I plop them onto the conveyer belt and huff off into the plane as the loser worker man with the fake accent tries to look smart enough to talk intelligibly.

Ouch. I can't believe I just tripped over those stupid steps. I walk into the plane and gasp. Whoa. Sweetness times…whoa…

This plane is nice. Like, mansion on wings nice. You know what I'm saying on this one. A girl could get used to this sort of thing. Man. Places like these make me kind of wish I was rich…except without all the work and baggage stuff that rich people usually have. And I don't want to be ugly and old either. So...maybe not, after all.

Oh boy. There's Mr. Luther. Sheesh. You'd think that in a plane this big he would have the common courtesy to not bug his bodyguard. Geez. People like this are the real reason murderers exist.

"Shouldn't you be doing your job or something?" He looks at me curiously. Huh?

"Huh?"

"Why don't you make sure everything is secure?"

"Why don't you make sure everything is secure."

"That's your job." He looks at me incredulously. Boy, do I want to kill him now. What is with this guy? Ooh, I know! He's evil.

"So tell me. How hard is it to think up nefarious plots? Do they just pop into you're head, or do you slave away at creating and perfecting them?"

"Oh, usually they just –what?"

"If you don't know, I'm not telling." I return his suspicious look times ten. He's supposed to be a genius. Figure it out, Baldman.

I walk over to the opposite of the plane and lie down on two of the seats. "Now leave me alone, I need to get my beauty sleep."

"What about the coffee?"

"Umm…thanks, but no thanks. Don't want to turn radioactive or stunt my growth or something right now. Not in the mood."

"Let me phrase that better. Where is my coffee? Get it."

"No. Buzz off."

He sighs and I hear papers rustling. Heehee. I win! Good. Now he's gonna go do his work and I can finally get my well-earned beauty –

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESMASH!!!

I sit up and look out the window by my head. Wait…why is the ground sideways? Oh shizzle fizzle shit. We're crashing...SHITshitshitshitSHITshitshitshitshitshitSHITSHITSHIT!!!

Oh god. I can see the ground. Very close-up. Shit! This is SO not good. Why did I ever go on this plane?! Oh, THAT'S right; I had to go goddamn work!

I always knew my career would be the end of me.

Stupid day job.

A/N: So, that would be that. Ummm…my character was original, but when I thought up the faith plot I had this immediate thought of how much I liked Faith's character in Buffy. So, my character got meaner and more pissed off at stuff. Since characters like that are just way more fun to write. Also, I was extra angry at the world that day, so my character reflected it. And then I read it two days later and decided to stick to the character, even though I had to change to whole stoopid plot. Heehee. I love my blatant over usage of the word 'stupid' in this story.

On a more serious note, I must now disclaim any prior or possible claims made up by possible people who like the aforementioned claims. See, Baldman? No touchy.