Guilt
Today, like all other days, was the worst day of his life.
How can a raccoon and a blue jay cause so much havoc every single day and completely obliterate their environment and still have a job? As much of a headache it caused him, Benson knew the answer. Mordecai and Rigby were master bullshit artists. It never ceased to amaze him just how much they whined and complained about the simplest of tasks, but actually stepped up and grew a pair in the heat of their own problems to fix and act like nothing has happened in the first place. It pissed Benson off; they were always the ones who got off scott free, but who had to stay behind and take the abuse of a foul tempered boss? The whipping boy of course. One would never think that polished metal could cover up so many scars.
Today just happened to be complete chaos, but at this point it was a regular day…that is, if you were used to this kind of crap. Mordecai and Rigby were playing another one of their stupid video games again (Did anything good ever come out of this activity?), and once again, something horribly, horribly wrong took place….only this time Pops was involved.
"Oh goody! I can't wait to see you boys defeat the Band Hero!" The lollipop man clapped excitedly. After 30 plus hours of perfecting every useless song in the game, downing enough energy drinks to kill a bull elephant and consuming enough pizza to feed two football teams, Mordecai and Rigby were finally able to challenge the king of virtual rock and roll.
"Dude, not that song!" Mordecai groaned loudly. "We played that one like, 20 times!"
"Yeah, and it's the one I can kick butt in with my eyes closed!" Rigby retorted, not even noticing Benson walking into the room.
The gumball machine had to resist the urge to face palm himself. "Well well, what a surprise…" He sneered at the sight of the two morons doing what they did best; seeing his superior there, however, was new. He stood there like the big white elephant in the room, his presence known but not acknowledged. "Well? Are you going to do work or am I going to have to haul your lazy asses outside instead?" He could feel his glass heating up as his irritation spiked. There was no way he was going to slave outside all day with a rake and garbage bag, on the most simple tasks, because two losers felt that killing their livers and brain cells was more important.
"Calm down Benson, geez. We're almost done." Mordecai said blandly as he strummed his guitar in tune to the notes on the screen. Benson growled and looked at the television; wow, that rockstar boss looked soooooo tough….
"Yeah. Don't you have something better to do?" Rigby piped back. That does it.
Benson's face turned it's oh so famous shade of violent red. His grip on the clipboard in his hand was so strong that he ended up snapping a good sized chunk out of the particle board. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?" He hissed, slamming the piece onto the ground and clenching his fists- how dare they call him out on shit they were supposed to be doing!
Pops seemed to be the only one who registered Benson's anger as actually threatening. He stood up and held his hands out defensively. "Benson, please old chap! We're just having some fun!" Normally Benson would just let that explanation fly over his head, but seeing the concern in those childish eyes…he sighed and relented a bit. Pops smiled excitedly, stepping back to try and offer his good friend a seat. However, walking backwards (and having a huge head) was not easy; he ended up stumbling over one of the torn cords to the guitars, falling over and somehow getting sucked into the television.
"Woah dude! What the hell?" Mordecai dropped his guitar in surprise; the controller crashed to the ground, and like the worn wires that Pops tripped over, the plastic instrument gave a jolt. The television flashed and started sucking Mordecai into it. Panicking, he grabbed Rigby out of fear, pulling him into the virtual world with him.
Benson stood there, numb. He hated hearing their voices, but the screams of fear…just like the cries in the past, he was just shaken to his metallic core at the sharp screams. When the initial shock wore off, he raced over to the television and tapped at the screen. Wait, why was he trying to save them? Mordecai and Rigby he could honestly care less about- they always found a solution, but Pops…well, the gumball machine feared for the naïve man's safety. "Come on! Open up you bastard!" he insulted the rockstar boss on the screen, but nothing happened.
"Shit!" Now he was freaking out; what could happen? Wait, what would happen to HIM if Mr. Mallerd found out? Skips…dammit, where was the yeti when he needed him? No time. The boss was busy torturing the trio and biting the head off of a virtual rat. Benson had to force himself to think; his eyes found the guitar that Mordecai had dropped. He took a deep breath before he grabbed it, smashed it against the table, and remembered to hold on tight to the instrument as he was sucked into the television set.
"Benson! Dude help us! He won't stop eating rats!" Mordecai called out to his friend. Benson looked to the rockstar and scowled before he sliced the cords binding his coworkers with his guitar- woah, how did the thing go from a plastic dull piece to a sharp metal stringed instrument?
"You dare challenge me? Pathetic roadie!" The fat rocker laughed as he tossed his snack aside and picked up his guitar. Benson looked at his own before offering it to Mordecai.
"Here. It's your own stupid game."
"Benson, didn't you see us suck eggs at band night?" Rigby yelped, pushing the guitar away when it was offered to him.
"What the hell? I just saw you playing with this twenty seconds ago!" the park manager's irritation was not the most helpful thing at the moment. Then he realized why Mordecai or Rigby couldn't handle this: this guitar now had strings, not large bright buttons. Running out of options, Benson looked to Pops, even though he knew the man was more gifted in watering flowers than he was being a musician. Seeing as he had no other choice, Benson positioned his fingers and nodded to his opponent.
His competition put up a pretty mean song; no wonder he was the boss! But Benson wore his trademark unimpressed face. When it was his turn he started with a few small notes, keeping quiet and broken.
"Dude….we are so dead." Rigby paled (if possible, given his coat). But then….it happened.
One of Benson's deepest secrets was that he used to be in a band once, and secretly practiced every night for two hours when he got home from work; it was the only thing that he could actually do to keep his sanity than pace around his apartment like a dog in heat or watch television until his eyes fell out. When he started to pick up the pace, it was like listening to the lead guitarist of the band Boston. He shredded the notes perfectly as if he was some music angel sent from the rock and roll heavens. The end of his guitar started to spark and glow as it wailed like a keytar. "Who's the roadie now?" Benson screamed back before he fired a strong blast from his instrument that shot through the pixilated man, exploding him, and creating a vortex back into the regular world.
After the last note was struck, Benson dropped the guitar as if it were the most disgusting thing he had ever touched, letting the note echo dramatically. He kept his back towards his coworkers while they stood there, dumbstruck. When he was on the other side of that portal, he picked up his clipboard in a stiff silence.
"Benson….that…was….AWESOME!" Rigby squealed happily.
"Ahhh yeah!" Mordecai slapped his boss on the back playfully, but was met with a sudden outburst.
"Don't even touch me, you goddamn idiot!" Benson was red again, and this time, there was no hollow threats. He didn't know why he was so angry. Normally he would just walk away, but when he saw Pops standing near the television in a sheepish manner, he was reminded why.
"And you! What the hell were you thinking, hanging out with them?" he snapped. Pops looked at Benson as if he was sprouting big green boils.
'But…but they were playing a game and it seemed fun…" he replied quietly, twiddling his fingers.
"Fun? FUN? Those two imbeciles are walking time bombs! They could have blown their eardrums out for all I care, but you had no business following them into danger like that!"
Pops was surprised that Benson was acting so protective of him; he honestly didn't know what to say. He looked over to Mordecai and Rigby, who were standing there again with their mouths open, shocked at Benson's outburst. "But-"
"No buts! You shouldn't be even around them, Pops! They are a hazard to everything! I don't even know why you decide to keep their lazy asses around when all they are good for is being parasites! But you just had to hang around with them because you are too goddamn childish to do anything useful around the park!" He could almost feel his teeth cracking because he was clenching him so hard. Benson took a moment to wait for a reaction, but then he saw the looks on the trio's faces, he realized what he just said in every toxic word.
Pops' face slowly contorted into one of anger. "Well, I am sorry that I like to have fun and go on adventures with my friends!" He put his nose in the air and placed his hand on his heart to look more important, "But what about you, old boy? You work too much and are no fun! I…I am very hurt that you would say mean things to Mordecai and Rigby…" tears were rimming the older man's eyes as he made his own fists. He sniffed. "I don't want to be like a regular adult. I enjoy your companionship but I can see that I am no longer worth your time…" He turned and walked out the door with a strong stride, but only a fool would fail to see that he didn't break a little on the way out. Mordecai and Rigby crossed their arms and looked at Benson.
"Gee, Benson, tell us how you really feel, why don't ya." Mordecai scowled.
'Yeah! What's in those crappy gumballs of yours? Dog turds and battery acid? C'mon, Mordecai. Let's go see Muscle Man."
'You said it bro." The blue jay shoved Benson out of the way as they left; on the way out, he paused and turned back to shoot a glare at him. "You know, when you played that guitar, for once I thought you were cool."
Benson watched him leave, suddenly feeling like the loneliest man in the world. He sank down onto the couch and curled up into a fetal position. He felt numb. Even Pops had left him; Pops, the only man to have remained by Benson's side to help calm him down. Pops, who bought Benson ice cream and listened to every word the gumball machine said and admiring him for his dedication nonetheless. Now, where was Pops? Away and disgusted.
The gumball machine closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, listening to the sounds of his unloved candies. For once, he wished he was a human, because nothing good would come from hanging himself with the kitchen's ceiling fan.