"Stupid Kelly and her stupid fan girl," Manny thought to himself as he sung his wrench over his head. He wasn't sure if he was going to need it to fix his problem or not, but why the hell not bring it? Sure, he was going to need something, but he hadn't the slightest clue what, especially when he wasn't sure how they managed to turn off only his power and allow the rest of the workplace electricity.
That's right. He had another blackout, but this time, it wasn't on purpose. He had planned to come out of his little hole and go with the boss and her secretary to a meeting with some guy named Robert Beck. Manny's sure he heard that name before, but he was drawing a blank. To be honest, though, he was more worried about his ability, no, more like his need to play his games again. It wasn't in Manny's slightest interest to actually go and spend time meeting some random guy who the two girls wanted to meet. Maybe there was something special about him, but who gives a damn.
He looked up at the pipes above him and started to grow angry. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't. His anger grew, knowing that Kelly pays more for the fucking water guy. Hell, he doesn't even understand why they need the water guy, for a lack of better terms. Obviously enough to cut his pay and have it install. That right there was enough to get him boiling.
He swung the wrench, but he did it. The pipe didn't break off like he thought it would have, but there was enough force to cause the pipe to start leaking. It dripped down on to the greasy hair and the rat face the electrician had. "God damn water guy."
In all honesty, Manny was never the sharpest nail; he wasn't even a dull nail. His education was lacking severely with his below F grades, but they couldn't flunk him. His family was the one paying for the full schooling; even with the amount of money the school charged. They wanted the best for their only child, and he did try. It was the bullying that caused him to stop caring, and the day he lost his parents. Of course, this was way after he got done with school. He wanted to go on to college, to at least try to get a further education, but when his father, whom he only had left after cancer took out his mother, got into a little accident with the electricity and a leaky pipe.
It was, about, 3 years ago when his father died in his accident with the company. Since then, he has worked for Funland Amusements. Of course, he hated the job, but they were the only ones willing to pay for the services he gave for the amount he charged. It was the only job he ever held, and it would be his last if they ever let him go. Until that day, however, he is going to make it "memorable". Well, he isn't so sure, especially with the little fit he had with this company.
"Manny, are you coming along," Kelly asked as she politely banged on the technician's door. She already knew the answer when she heard the grunting coming from behind, as well as the clashing of computer monitors and keyboards. Manny swung the door open and stormed past to you, raising his arm to block the light from coming into his eyes as he stomped. She grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face her. She looked directly into his eyes but let go when she saw the grunting of his teeth.
"Why the fuck do you always have to make my life a living hell?!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. Cubical workers looked out of their offices at the small scene being played out before them. "Once again, I was in the middle of a competition, and once again, you jackasses had to destroy my chances of winning!" He growled at one of the workers trying to grab him to calm him down.
"How did we do that?" Kelly inquired. She stared at the rat then looked at her secretary. The latter only shrugged her shoulders.
"I can tell you how! You went down into the basement and turned off the power for my room, didn't you?" He scoffed, turning back to face the hallway. "While I work my ass off to make sure your power stays on for your fucking shit company, you make my life a living hell during the process. You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to fix the power, then leave this shitty place. There's nothing," he paused for a second as he turned towards the two, "either of you can do about it."
Rose turned to her boss, the latter just shook her head. "If he wants to go," she said as she turned her back on the technician, "then let his sorry ass go. We don't need someone using the electricity that I'm paying for. Let's go, we have to meet up with our savior." She walked down towards the stairwell. Rose, still standing back near Manny, only shrugged at him. She wasn't sure what to say to him, and with a slight bow, she, too, set her sights on the stairwell.
Manny stuck his middle finger up at their backs and huffed. 'Mother fuckers,' he thought, 'I don't know what the hell they think I do, but obviously it's not good enough for the princess herself.' He, himself, turned and strolled past a few cubicles down the hall. Each worker rolled their eyes as he walked past the first, and then the next. It was the same old shit with him. Nothing was his fault; even when he got caught red-handed.
"You actually going to quit this time, Whiny Miley?"
"Yes I am," he said, stopping in his tracks to face the security officer standing at the end of the hall. He had his donut in his left hand while holding his right under to catch any crumbs he may drop. "It's funny, you know. To see someone like you, who does barely shit, yet they're loved by all and still make more than me. So you know what I have to say about people like you? Fuck you!" He reaches forward and knocked the officer's little snack to the ground. The latter stares at the man before him and lunges. Manny steps to his left and laughs as his attacker flops to the floor on his back. Like a turtle, he couldn't roll back on to his stomach. Instead, he laid there, calling for help from the other cubicles. "You lousy pig. Maybe if you stopped eating the donuts and helped out your body, then you'd be able to catch me." He huffed and turned on a dime, heading for his original final destination.
He sighed, forgetting the fact he stood underneath the leaking pipe; below him laid a puddle of water. He stomped down and blew the puddle into a larger version. "These are my last hours at this shit hole," he thought to himself, and he was right. Six o'clock was the checkout time for him, and as he looked at his watch, he felt relieved that he only had an hour to go. "Maybe it won't be too bad, keeping the power off in that room, and let the next suckers whom get hired suffer like I did." He stopped in his tracks, despite not moving from the puddle. "Why the hell would I make them suffer? They would be already getting tired of the shit they would be force to do by that asshole."
He took a step forward and slipped forward; he landed hard on his stomach with his arms spread out. He reached over for his wrench but grabbed the strands of a lone mop hanging in the corner and pulled it to him. The handle fell straight down, disconnecting an already fraying red and yellow wire-filled tube as it hit the floor directly in front of the man on the floor. He put his palms on the ground; he grunted as he lifted his upper body up from the water. Next to him, the wire hissed, slithering back and forth along the hard concrete. It slowly crept forward, stopping right before it hit the water.
He firmly put a foot on the floor and pushed up on his knee. He grabbed the front of his red Dynasty t-shirt and began to wring it out. He sighed to himself and patted his legs softly to remove the water there. As he stepped forward, he felt his foot step on something and rolled backwards, fell on to his back. He landed with a crack and groaned; "Fuck! My back!" he thought to himself and he struggled to rub his lower half. He put his left palm into the water then to the outside of him. Sparks fly as his hand lands on the exposed wire. His instincts kick in and he gripped the tube. The heat of the wires started melting the skin on his hand, melting the tube as well. Electricity pulses through his body. His eyes widen as he takes his last breath. His heart had stopped.
As they sat in silence, with the only noises being the soft humming of the Honda and the country music playing in the background, Beck tapped his foot. His eyes focused on the blur of the street, only to remember his vision. He snapped his head forward but found himself looking outside again. He couldn't stop remembering that day, seeing the little kid's face before it was lost in the wall.
The drive droned on for half an hour before the car came to a stop. Monica stepped out of her side, slamming the door as she closed it. The windows rattled inside their holders. Beck followed, making sure not to slam the door behind him. He looked from the car to the restaurant's entrance as memories flooded into his mind. Cafe Freizeit. Numerous times have he and Kelly met up at the quaint place; he even knows the layout both inside and out.
"On the outside," he thought to himself, "we used to sit during the summer. Kell, Rose and I used to always hang out. So often, in fact, that we were a love triangle in hiding. Kell never knew, but Rose and I…" He sighed softly. "I love Kell, but Rose is so cute." He gently rested his chin on his chest, stepping forward with the girl. "But now Rose is pregnant, and I'm the father; I'm sure of it."
He stopped and looked up at the entrance. The colorful red windows and green doors opened up nicely, with a powerful scent of the homemade apple pie which easily welcomed the guests. The inside held circle tables, each of which held a glass vase and a single red rose. Beck, upon seeing the rose, imagined the derailment; how his love sprawled in front of him with the glass emerging from her mouth. Tears swelled his eyes, tears of a person who only cries when he loses something dear to him.
"Hey, Beck, you alright?" Monica asked, gently positioning her hand on his shoulder. The difference in size allowed some relief to Beck. He nodded before looking down at her. She motioned over to a table against the back wall; the table where Rose and him met during their unknown visits to each other. Sitting at the table, another man, whom wore that same bomber jacket from that day. The man stood as they grew closer and rose his hand up to his head in a salute.
Monica laughed and lowered the man's hand. "Robert, this is my friend. I know you didn't mean to push me down, so I don't hold a grudge on you. However, I'm sure this strong pilot fighter has a little something he wants to say to you." She said as her elbow struck the man's ribs.
He cleared his throat and put his feet together with his hands behind his back. He looked directly into Beck's eyes and nodded; he winced when he got another blow to his ribs. "Mr. Beck, I'm sorry for grabbing your collar and shaking you like I did. I only did what I did because you knocked down Ms. Triggs."
Beck nodded absently. His eyes seemed fixed on the outside. He followed the cars driving to left and to the right. His eyes stopped on a red Mustang flying past the window on its way towards the amusement company. He couldn't see which way it turned, though; Monica pulled him down and the man started talking.
"It might not seem that bad, but as you may have heard with the detective dying just today, we're in deeper than you can imagine. He probably told you: you saved a lot of us that day, but now we're slowly dying. It was the same way for him. He… he was the second to last person on death's list. Right now, I fear that a second person has died from our list. Death, even if you don't believe in superstition, doesn't follow a set schedule. It's either you live or you die. Right now, there's only three here, eight out in the world and there's one already one six feet in the ground. So I ask you this, Mr. Beck: how far would you go to save the ones you love?"