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'Ted, this is the new employee Jackson, show 'em around.' Mr.Kraggle grunted out, the man whose genes did their best to make a troll stomped off to his office at the other end of the small building. Ted look over the new comer, a kid, maybe about 21, expressive eyes, good chin, thin nose. Dashing by his standards. He might be a good egg, never know until you shake someone's hand.
'Jackson, I'm Ted, but everyone around here calls me Pops.' Time to see if the kid was alright.
'Don't like my first, so just call me Gabe, Pops.' He took the proffered hand. Firm shake, not to rough, no to weak. He was a good kid.
'Well Gabe, this is the entrance. If you'll follow me, I'll show ya' the break room.' I lead the way past the smoked glass half wall that kept visitors from seeing the mass of grey cubicles that dominated the central room. It was bad enough that the room was a brown remeniscent of cigarette tar stained linen, but the floor was a dark green shot through with brown and dull red fibers. Even the tiles couldn't bear to be white and instead where grey with an age verified by the old flourescent lights.
He stepped to the threshhold of the break room, which looked to come straight out of a 50's home catalog. White linoleum tile with black and grey flecks reflected the spartan white cupboards. Set into a black counter top chipped with age was a stainless steel sink and faucet, beset with salt stains. It even had the knobs that were plastic, one missing the 'C' marked cap and slowly filling up with crud. Someone, at some point, decided it would be convient to put a fridge in there, which was the most update fixture in the room even though it was already twenty years old.
'This, Gabe, is the break room. Fridge for your lunches and drinks. Sink, small microwave over there. Cupboards are mostly bare, as you can see,' opened a few to prove the point, 'and finally the coathanger.' The old metal coathanger wobbled as I popped my hand on it. Without a hint of hesitation, he tossed his coat up on the hook. First time I noticed it was a letterman jacket. My interest was pique.
'Can I ask you something without coming off as nosey?'
'Sure.' He cracked a smile and adjusted his collar. His smile was flawless.
'Whatcha letter in?' I crossed my arms and leaned up against the wall, crossing my one foot over the other with practiced ease. My listening pose, as others had described it.
'This and that. Track, baseball...' he seemed to drift off as he ticked them off, an additional four, before he came back to reality.
'Star in any of them?'
'Nope. I was okay, not the greatest, but not bad.'
'Ah. Anything else you want to know before I show you your cubicle?'
'Where's the pop machine?'
*****
Pops hid it well. Still made a face like I had just let loose with one of the raunches farts known to man. As a matter of fact, the room just seemed to get the bad vibe from the question. I caught several people looking up out of their cubicles in my periphial vision. May have heard whispers too, hopefully living beings. I looked back as Ted started talking again.
'Ahh, the pop machine? Err, well, I don't think any of its still good. We bring our drinks from home.'
Red flag. Something was up, time to find out.
'Got a caffeine habit to feed.'
'Sure you don't want some coffee?'
'Yeck! Try not to drink anything that might taste like the sole of an old gym shoe. Something the matter Pops?' He looked a little nervous, didn't let anything on. His eyes lied, he absently rubbed his neck, just little tells. But I picked them up. For added effect, I cocked an eyebrow and pursed my lips in thought.
'Ah... No. But it's all probably flat and disgusting. Sure you wouldn't want any coffee.'
'Positive.' Put some cheer on it, make sure he doesn't think I'm getting fed up with him. I stepped back into the main room and put my hands on my hips, looking about. My back was to Ted, but he kept staring at me, probably trying to figure me out. I spotted the pop machine off down the way, half ways between the far wall and the break room, recessed in a little nook.
'Ah, there you are my precious!' I put my hands in the air and walked towards it. Ten feet from it and I got hit by its malevolence. First time I ran into a soda dispensor that radiated an area of evil. It looked normal, no dust, well tended, all the lights were on. I kept walking, stopping to check out the selection. I felt it sizing me up while I was doing this. I mentally noted to never have a pop machine size me up, as it was unsettling. They had Coke, I like Coke. A $1.25 for a can of pop!?! Maybe people didn't bother with it because it was expensive. I rifled through my pockets and pulled out change to feed the greedy beast. With a tinkle and a series of klinks, it gots its bribe and I hit the coke button.
Nothing. I hit the button again.
Still nothing. I jammed the button repeatedly with my thumb, knowing full well the outcome.
Didn't work. Not surprised. I eyed the coin return lever suspiciously, the feeling that the machine was goading me on to depress it make my skin crawl. I observed it for a second through a half squinted eye as I chewed on my lower lip, pondering what was going on. Behind me, all noise had dropped off save a few whispers. Slowly, I placed my hand on the lever and pressed down, expecting for a foot to come out of nowhere and lodged itself in my sensitive matters. When the sound of coins landing, I only became more puzzled.
I squatted down, the pop machine looming like a predatory cat in a tree branch over me. I could only eye my change sitting there suspiciously, like some lure on the end of a lurking predators tongue. Half attentively, I rubbed my chin in contemplation at how to extract my change without fallling into some unseen and unexpected trap.
Standing, I snapped my fingers when I was fully up. An about face, three steps and I was staring at a middle aged woman over her cubicle. The entire office was busy watching my dealings with the machine, a look of fear on their face. Big god damned red flag.
'Mind if I borrow a pencil?'
'Uh...uhm... sure I guess...' She proferred the pencil almost as if she forgot what is was.
'Thanks!' I took the pencil and gave her a big smile. Turn, three steps, and I was back in a crouch staring at my coins. Flipping the pencil about absently, I slowly move the pencil closer to my coins.
'Sweet Mary mauled by a b-' It bit the pencil clean in half.
I shot back three feet.
Then I almost got my coke. Fatally. Three cans of pop lodging themselves in the side of the cubicle beside me, leaking onto the floor like they had wounded some great beast.
The damned machine was laughing. At least mentally. I stood up. This had officially gone from normal into my territory. And it was personal. I stormed out.
****
I was amazed. This was the first time the infernal machine had actually tried to kill someone. How the hell was I going to explain this to the boss? Mr.Kraggle, the new employee you hired just quit. The pop machine tried to assasinate him. Who the hell believes that something like that? Maybe I should have stopped the kid like I planned, told him it was empty. Nope. Well fuck, what a great way to start a day.
The bells hung above the door jangle and I turned around, Gabe marching in with a douffle bag. He'd rolled up his sleeves, taken off his tie and undid several buttons of his collar. And he looked pissed. The entire office was transfixed by him, following him until he was little more then a few inches infront of me.
He dropped the bag and unzipped it, which rocked the office in the unnatural silence that had fallen over the place. From inside it he drew a long, ebony box, a tarnished silver emblem embedded in it. He used both thumbs to unlatch it and open it with a purpose and then put gloves on. But my eyes fell on what was inside and I sighed audibly.
'Would you mind? I... I used to fence and that's just...' I was at a loss for words.
'Sure, just be ready to hand it back.'
I reached down, gently extending my fingers until they touched the red velvet lining the vessel. Electricity surged in my palm and up my arm as I wrapped my hand around the black leather of the hilt. My lips were numb by the time I stood up, testing the balance of the saber casually, it's flawless blade glinting in the flourescent light. The grip seemed to place itself so it fit best in my hand, wanting me to use it. It was breath taking, keeping my attention and keeping me from noticing Gabe stand up.
'My sword, if you will.'
Flipping the blade, I presented it hilt first. He took it, and the blade dragging acrossed my arm without so much as making a mark. I noticed now that the scabbard the sword came with as almost as beautiful as the blade, tied to gabe's waist by a chord of silver and gold robe. He turned and faced the pop machine. This was going to get good.
'All right you infernal piece of junk, I'm going to let you in on a secret. You messed with the wrong person today.' The pop machine was puzzled, or I would like to have think that's what I felt. We all were to tell you the truth. But we were also curious.
'I know how your little groups work, you bastard, so you should know exactly what I'm about. Because I'm a Monroe.' For a second, the pop machine radiated fear that almost congealed in the air, and almost as quickly it tried to cover it, sending out an air of superiority and dismissal. Gabe took a step forward, sword held angled at the ground, flat facing forward. This was going to be damned good.
****
I was less then ten feet when it showed its true colors. A mass gasp spontaneously birthed and died in the office, several soft thuds announcing the impact of those who fainted on the ground. Time to size up my opponent now that the facade was done with.
What had been a column of buttons depicting a delicious assortment of beverages was now a series of baleful eyes the color of a rotting wound. Behind it snapped a bladed prong tipped tail, each lash putting a rip in the carpet. The front, which once glowed to show a large can sweating in ice, was unchanged save for the obscene shapes and fingers being cast upon it in silhouette. It nashed its teeth, both set, which now crowded into what had been the pop and change bins. It rocked back and forth on four twisted, black paws. Hatred and anger radiated out from it. This had definitely crossed into my territory.
'HAVE AT YOU!!!' The beast rushed in a bounding waddle that only a large appliance could pull off, its mass raising and falling creating an echoing chug like some blasted and blighted minitrain. I side stepped, instinctively turning by blade down and out, deflecting the prongs on its tell as crowded me against the cubicles in passing. But I was still moving, performing on autopilot to dart out behind it and sever the tail from its body, an electrical chord and plug falling to the ground. I dropped back into my stance.
Thankfully everyone had scattered when the fight broke out, their faces peeking over the safety of their cubicles as t stopped, sliding as the momentum its bulk created carried it forward. It turned, having to leap to do so and creating a loud thud as it landed. I had to admit, it was intimidating to see a pop machine suddenly leap and do an about face in mid air. It's just not supposed to do that.
We sized each other up, the beast slowly closing with calculated footfalls. Its unblinking eyes never left me, observing with an ublinking stare. If it charged, which it may, I was small enough to move out of the way. If it barrelled down the side, it'd be even simpler. But my gut was telling me I wasn't going to luck out like that as it stopped no more then six feet from me, it's mouths nashing to the thoughts running through its alien cunning.
I had no clue what it was going to do. But I should have, I realized, when the first can impacted acrossed my knee with a 'thwiff'. The second hit mid thigh and I was doubling over, my left hand instinctively reaching for the developing bruise. Then the third, forth and fifth struck up my chest, the sixth slamming on my head. The world started spinning, I begain reeling. Nothing made sense anymore. Then everything went dark.
****
My mouth was agape. I knew it. But I was allowed to sit like that damn it! The damned pop machine ate Gabe! In one second it had swung open its front and gobbled him up in one bite. Now it was moving slowly back to it's nook, a cat gloated on its kill.
We all stopped and stared as it set itself back, gloating the entire way. Someone was retching, others crying. Time seemed to compress and expand all at once. How the hell was I going to explain this!?
The pop machine rocked, and we suddenly became focused. Confusion radiated from it, but I knew what was happening. Somehow, Gabe was alive. And he was probably madder then hell.
It rocked again, this time it got up and stepped forward. It knew panic now. A dent, small, maybe a fist. A second one, bigger, a heel visible. He was kicking. Then a thud and a thin shadow fell acrossed the floor. Another beneath the new hole and they both began leaking a foul brown yellow fluid. A third now that opened up into a cut. A fourth, starting high in the corner and cutting down opposite to the last cut. Gabe punched, his gore slicked hand reaching fresh air, then his foot, his body seeming to grow from those to points and then backwards. He stepped out.
****
You never realize how much enjoyable fresh air really is until you're locked away inside a demonic pop machine, and right now, I enjoyed every breath. I stepped out, covered in foul ichor and saliva, my saber sheathed at my side. Last out in my hand was a can of cold coke.
'Get your pop now while it's free.' I was never one for damaging public property, but the kick I laid into the side of the pop machine was amazing. It spilt cans of pop the way something should its guts. Cheers went up and people rushed over, scooping up as much pop as they could carry. I went to find my cubicle.
Sitting down, I wiped gunk from my eyes and face, fling it from my hands to the floor with one motion. I leaned back in my chair and sighed. Man, the chair was comfy, more so then I expected. I waited several moments before reaching over the the pop can on my desk and opening it.
Bring it to my lips I though to myself Man, I'm really going to like this job, and downed some of the best pop I ever had.
