CHAPTER 19

When Sam was ten years old, he read a book called Life Among the Gorillas. It was written by an anthropologist named Dr. Aurelia Birnholz-Vasquez, and it told the story of the year she spent living among the Western Lowland Gorillas of Cameroon. 15 years ago, when Dr. Birnholz-Vasquez came to the local community college to give a lecture, Sam, the youngest member of the audience by more than 10 years, raised his hand with a question.

"What advice do you have for a budding anthropologist?" He asked her. Dr. Birnholz-Vasquez looked at him and smiled faintly.

"So… you want to be an anthropologist?" She asked. Sam nodded.

"Yep. When I grow up, I want to go live with the gorillas, just like you did." Sam stated. What she said next changed his life.

"Oh, that's wonderful, but I'm afraid you can't. They'll all be dead by then…"

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15 years later…

"And if economic sanctions and trade restrictions aren't enforced, the destruction of the rainforest will continue and over a million species will be wiped out." Sam shouted. Finn, who was pouring a mug of coffee, raised an eyebrow.

"So you don't want coffee?" He asked, confused.

"I'm saying that the coffee industry is causing irreversible…"

"All right. I'm pouring it out!" Finn announced. Sam grabbed the mug from him before he could.

"Okay, one cup. The kid needs to be alert." Sam stated. "First day on the job and everything."

"I still can't believe you're going all corporate on us." Finn remarked. "The kid has become the man."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Okay, it's just an internship to make a little money. After law school, I'm still going to work for the NRDC. They're gonna stop global warming!"

Just then, Quinn walked into the room, holding a paper bag in her hands and handing it to Sam.

"Here's your sack lunch." She said, giggling at the word 'Sack'.

"Okay, I love you because, one, you made me a sack lunch and two, you laugh every time you say the word 'sack.'"

"I love you, Sammie." She said, kissing him.

"Love you too."

"I love you too, Sammie!" Finn called from the couch. Sam rolled his eyes and walked over to the door. He opened it and found a box lying at the doorstep.

"Uh-oh. Finn?" He said, picking up the box and bringing it into the apartment. Finn groaned.

"Oh, no! No, she didn't!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah. Yeah, she did." Sam murmured.

"Another care package?" Quinn sighed. Another care package. Finn had been in a long-distance relationship with Rachel for nearly a month. Long-distance relationships were a bad idea.

"How many is that so far?" Sam asked as Finn opened the parcel.

"Three." Finn replied.

"And how many have you sent her?" Quinn asked.

"In the mail or in my mind?" Finn asked. Quinn glared at him and Finn sighed. "Zero. She's up three-zip. Oh! Cupcakes!" He muttered, annoyed, as he opened the box. "Great. I bet they're delicious, too." He said, taking a bite out of one and groaning. "Yup, they're delicious. DAMN IT!"

Finn collapsed onto the sofa with the box of cupcakes and glared at them.

"I don't deserve these delicious cupcakes." He murmured as he bit into another cupcake and moaned. "God, I hate myself right now."

"God, that is so me at 15." Sam remarked.

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Sam was going to work for a big corporation called Altrucel. Altrucel was most well-known for making the yellow fuzzy stuff on the surface of tennis balls. I mean, this was a huge company, so they were in on other things… oil rigs, factories, gun production, missile production. But mostly, they wanted the public to focus on the yellow fuzzy stuff. Anyway, Sam managed to score an internship in their legal department because he knew someone who worked there…

"Goooooo for Puck!" Puck said as he answered his phone that day.

"Mr. Puckerman…" A clearly-fake Southern Accent drawled into the phone. "This is Willis from lobby security. Sorry to bother you, but we've had reports of a sasquatch loose in the building."

Puck's face crumpled in confusion.

"A sasquatch?" he asked, confused.

"That's right, sir, a Bigfoot. We don't want to alarm you, but he's been spotted on your floor."

Just then, Sam walked down the hallway, winking at him, his phone to his ear. Puckerman grinned and stood up as Sam entered his office, all dressed in his new suit.

"Yes! Look at you. You suited in an unmistakably upward direction!" Puck exclaimed. Sam looked around his friend's office.

"Wow. That is a butt-load of motivational posters, huh?" Sam commented, pointing to the posters behind Puck.

"Yeah, hell, yeah! I got 'em all." Puck boasted. "Teamwork, Courage, Awesomeness…"

"There's one for awesomeness?" Sam laughed.

"Yeah, I had it made. Now, sit." Puck said. Sam nodded and the two sat opposite each other in Puck's office.

"Hey, so, now that I'm working here, are you finally going to tell me exactly what your job is?" Sam asked. Nobody knew what Puck did for a living. It was the biggest mystery about him. When anyone asked, he would just answer…

"Haha, please." Puck replied, waving his hand dismissively. Suddenly two suited men walked into the room, grinning at Puck.

"My dawg!" One of them exclaimed.

"My dawg!" The other repeated. Puck nodded.

"Hey, Blauman, Bilson. This is Sam. You're going to be working with him." Puck introduced.

"Sam Evans." He said, shaking the two mens' hands. "Nice to meet you."

"Love the tie. Steak sauce!" Blauman stated.

"Oh, steak sauce! For true, though!" Bilson added. Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked down at his eye.

"Where? I don't see any steak sauce." Sam asked.

"Sam? Sidebar." Puck interrupted. Sam turned to him. "Your tie is steak sauce. It means A-1. A-1? Get it? Try to keep up."

Sam nodded in realistion.

"Okay, Evans, let's get to work." Blauman said. "It's 2 am. It's raining outside. Ding-Dong! What? The doorbell? Oh, hello, Jessica Alba in a trench coat and nothing else. But wait… knock, knock, Somebody's at the back door?"

"I don't have a back door." Sam interrupted but they ignored him.

"Oh, my gosh, Taylor Swift? What a surprise! Two celebrities. You gotta pick one. What do you do? Go!" Bilson finished. Sam looked taken aback.

"Right. Well, uh… I'm engaged, so…" Sam stammered, trying to end the conversation but Blauman and Bilson wouldn't let him.

"Fiancee's out of town. What do you do? Go." Blauman stated.

"Um… we're still engaged, even if she's…" Sam mumbled but the men still wouldn't let up.

"Okay. Fiancee's dead. Hit by a bus. What do you do? Go!"

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That afternoon, Finn and Santana were sitting in the bar and Finn was devouring yet another cupcake.

"Mmm." He groaned in satisfaction. "You sure you don't want one?" He asked as he gobbled yet another cupcake.

"How many of those have you eaten?" She laughed.

"Four… teen." He joked. "No, just four. And the icing from two more. So, anyway, here's the problem. I called Rachel last night and I was telling her how much I liked the care package. I was standing there, my mouth full of this delicious, relationship-winning cupcake, and… I said something dumb..."

Last night…

"Hey, it's Finn. Um… I guess you're asleep. Anyway, I got the care package, and it's just great. Oh, and, um… don't worry: yours is in the mail. I sent it a couple of days ago. And it's awesome. Really, really awesome."

Back to the present…

"Why did I say that?" Finn groaned. "I think frosting makes me lie."

"Oh, Finny, boy." Santana laughed.

"Yeah. So now, whatever I send her, she'll know I sent it after I talked to her. So that's the problem. You work on that. I'm gonna eat this cupcake." He said, taking a bite out of another cupcake. Santana chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"All right, here's what you do: Put together a care package of stuff from New York: some H&H bagels, an Empire State Building keychain… and then, top the package off with a New York Times… ready? From three days ago!"

"That's brilliant!" Finn exclaimed. "You're brilliant."

Santana blushed.

"You know… It's funny. Not so long ago, I was coming to Sam and Quinn for advice on how to impress you." Finn stated.

"That is funny." Santana laughed nervously.

And here's why it was funny. Little did Finn realise, a few weeks earlier, Santana had admitted to Quinn that she had feelings for him.

"Now, it's ironic that the girl I used to like is helping me impress the girl I now like." Finn continued.

"The irony is clear, Finn." Santana snapped.

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That evening, Sam walked into the house after his first day of work, a frown etched on his face.

"Hey! How was your first day?" Quinn asked, standing up and walking over to her fiance as he put his briefcase down.

"I don't wanna talk about it." Sam mumbled, storming into the kitchen. He emerged moments later… "The guys I work with are a bunch of jerks!" He exclaimed.

"What?" Quinn asked.

"They're jerks!" Sam repeated.

"What makes them jerks?"

"Well, like today at lunch…"

Earlier that day…

Sam was sitting in the break room, taking out his sack lunch when Bilson and Blauman looked at him and laughed.

"What you got there, Evans? Mommy pack your lunch?" Blauman remarked. Sam rolled his eyes.

"For your information, my fiancee did."

"Oooh…" Bilson said. "Does she cut the crusts off your sandwich, too?" He joked.

"No." Sam mumbled, slowly putting away the tin-foil wrapped sandwich he had in his bag. The next thing he pulled out from the bag was a note from Quinn, and the guys noticed.

"What's that?" Bilson asked.

"Nothing." Sam murmured. Blauman quickly snatched the note away from him and began to read aloud.

"Dear, Sammie. Good luck today. I wuv you. Quinnie!" Blauman read, laughing hysterically.

"Give it!" Sam shouted, blushing furiously. Blauman continued to read…

"P.S. If you've unfolded this note, your kiss already got out. Quick! Catch it!" Blauman finished reading.

Back to the present…

"Oh, screw those guys! We're adorable!" Quinn exclaimed.

"I know. God. It's like freshman year all over again." Sam complained. "Only this time, my sweet dance moves aren't gonna be enough to win them over!"

"Sweetie…" Quinn murmured. "It would be cool to have some extra money, but if you're unhappy, it's not worth it…"

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"I quit." Sam told Puck in the bar that night.

"What? No!" Puck cried. "We're having so much fun! You, me, working together. It's great."

"We're not even working together, Puck. I'm in the legal department and you're… seriously, what is it that you do?"

"Haha. Please." Puck replied, cryptically. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry, dude, this corporate thing, it's just… it's not for me." Sam replied. Puck nodded.

"Oh, of course it's not for you. It's for Quinn." Puck responded. Sam brought his beer down halfway from his mouth.

"What?" He snapped.

"Sam, Quinn's a catch. But do you really think you're going to hang onto a girl that great without the package?" Puck asked. Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"The package?"

"The package. The house. The car. Sending your kids to a great school. A vacation once in a while."

"Quinn doesn't care about that stuff." Sam laughed, nervously. Puck raised an eyebrow.

"Well, no… now she doesn't, but how's she going to feel in a couple years, when she's supporting you on a kindergarten teacher's salary while you're off in court defending some… endangered South American flying beaver."

Sam chuckled at his friend's insanity about the animal momentarily but his face dropped when he remembered Puck's main point.

"She'll be happy." Sam said, slightly unsure.

"Okay." Puck replied, and the two of them were silent for a few moments. "But will you be happy knowing you could have made her a lot happier?"

Sam scowled.

"Fuck you, Puck. Fuck. You." He growled. Puck grinned.

"Awesome! See you tomorrow morning!"