Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
The Hogs of Entropy 0056
______ ______ ______________
| | | | \ |
\ / \ / ____ \ ______|
| |________| | / \ | |____
| ________ | ( {} ) | _____)
/~~~~~~~~~~~ | | | | \____/ | |______ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~\
| |~~~~~~~ / \ / \ / | ~~~~~~~~~| |
| | |______| |______| /_____________| | |
| | | |
| | Hogs of Entropy Text Files Present... | |
| | | |
| | "The Sandwich" | |
| | | |
| | | |
| | By: Black Francis | |
| | | |
\ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ /
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Tap it."
"Huh?"
"Tap it and all the fizz will go down."
"Oh. Ok. Thanks." he didn't care if his soda fizzed or not. It was
definitely one of the more trivial things in his life. He had a lot more to
worry about than his soda fizzing up. Though, when he was a kid, he used to
love it when his 'pop' fizzed. He get such a primal thrill from it.
Making sure his friend wasn't watching, Pete shook the soda. He slid
his new leather briefcase to the side of the table to avoid getting any soda
on it. As a hint of a smile crossed his lips, he flipped open the can of
soda. It was childish, sure, but it was fun. It reminded him of a great
Hawaiian volcano, erupting, without hesitation or remorse. He was the
lunch table God. Controlling the fate of everything on the table.
"Jesus, Pete! I told you to tap it!" screeched Sean as he leaped from
his seat like someone had set his tweed slacks ablaze.
"I did! I tapped the damn thing!" He was such a good liar.
"Not good enough, I suppose!" he said as be began to sit back down,
now realizing he was not in any grave danger. He glanced towards the mess and
his jaw dropped.
"My sandwich! You soaked my sandwich!"
"Sorry." sighed Pete as he began to wipe up the spill with those little
cheap napkins that seem to be the standard in cheesy little office cafeterias
such as this one.
"Sorry nothin'! My sandwich is destroyed! I >CANNOT< eat this! It's
been obliterated!"
"Settle down, Sean. I'll buy you a new one."
"I don't care about that. It's the ethics of the whole thing!"
"Sean. Lower your voice. Everyone's beginning to look at us."
"I don't care! Yeah! Look at me! The freak! The yelling freak!"
Then came the silence. The dead flat silence that everyone dreads
like the pre-prom pimple. They both looked edgy, like they were ready to
break down into tears. Pete sipped his soda and turned towards Pete, who was
furiously rummaging through his Ziploc bag of trail mix.
"You gonna eat that?" Pete muttered.
"What?"
"Are you going to eat that?" he repeated.
"No. It's >MY< lunch. Get your own."
"But you just said it wasn't edible! That I obliterated it!"
"Who cares? I can still eat it if I want."
"You're so full of it! You won't eat it. You're just saying that
because you don't want to give it to me. You're just being childish." Pete
sounded angry. After all, Sean did make good bologna sandwiches.
"Excuse me?! No! What was childish was shaking up your soda before
you opened it so it could fizz all over the place. Now >THAT< was childish!"
"Oh please! Why would I purposely shake shake my soda?"
"Because you're a childish asshole! >THAT'S< why!" The tension was
really beginning to mount. People were starting to stare.
"Stop being such a jack-ass and give me your sandwich."
"No!"
"If not, you'll just waste it. Now, c'mon."
"No! I'll eat the damned sandwich!"
"Ok, then. Let me see you take a bite out of it."
"Huh? No! I don't have to prove anything to you!" the loud-talking
had become yelling.
"That's because you won't eat the freakin' thing! HA! Admit it!"
"I would if you were right - but you're not!"
"Ok, Mr. Suck-Up-To-The-Boss-All-The-Time.." now Pete was fighting
dirty. "..Suppose you >WERE< going to eat that sandwich. It has mustard on
it. You >HATE< mustard!" she shouted with confidence.
"I could easily wipe it off. What's your point?"
"Ha! BULL-SHIT! You're the laziest person on the face of the Earth!
Like, that time you had the runs, went into the bathroom, did your duty, and
realized the stall had no more toilet paper. Remember that? Yeah. Instead
of asking for more - or getting more yourself, you just decided not to wipe
your ass at all! How easily we forget, huh?" their petty bickering had even
grabbed the attention of the lunch ladies now. The faint echoes of his fellow
workers snickering made Sean's feet tingle. He leaned over towards Pete, his
face still bright red, and whispered;
"Shut up, Pete! Everybody in here can hear you!" obviously, Pete knew
he did good. So, instead of being the discrete, quiet, and humble man he
usually was, he kept shouting.
"What's the matter, Sean? >EMBARRASSED?<"
"Fine! You know what? Take the stupid sandwich, you want it so bad!"
he said as he lifted the soggy sandwich from the dampened table and hurdled
it towards Pete. The sandwich hit him in the face, immediately falling apart,
dumping bologna onto his lap and splattering mustard up and down his new
tie.
"I don't want your freakin' diseased sandwich, you son-of-a-bitch!"
Pete lifted the remains of the sandwich from his clothing and with a tightly
clenched fist, compacted it into a ball. Like a major-league pitcher, Pete
wound up, took the now orange-shaped sandwich, and hurdled it towards Sean
with blinding speed. The carefully crafted bologna-ball hit Sean between
the eyes with amazing accuracy, given the dynamics of a soaking wet bologna
sandwich rolled up into a ball. Shrapnel flew everywhere. It sprayed
innocent bystanders. Covering their corner of the cafeteria.
"Hey!" the man in the booth next to them shouted. After all, he was
trying to enjoy his sandwich. "Watch it!"
Sean grew angry fast. He had that maniacal look on his face that
nobody had seen since those copies of his Xeroxed ass from last years New
Years Eve office party had been passed around the office. In what seemed like
slow motion that Oliver Stone would be damn proud of, Sean stood up and
punched Pete dead in the face. The cafeteria froze. Everyone's eyes turned
towards the two, who were now rolling through the slop on the white, cyan,
and green tile floor, duking it out. Both men relentlessly slugging each
other in various parts of the anatomy. Some not quite as pleasant as others.
Nothing was sacred. Sure, it was a dirty fight, but they weren't worried
about being fair or not.
"Get off of me, asshole!"
Sean had a bloody nose.
"You get off of me first!"
Pete's lip had been split.
By now, the security guards had rushed into the cafeteria. Nobody who
had worked in the office even knew that there were security guards in the
building. Two of them, to be exact. With intensity straight out of a bad
episode of 'Cops', they ran to the two and split them up immediately. They
continued swinging into the empty air after being separated.
"Let me go! Let me take care of this asshole!" screamed Pete.
"You're lucky this guy's holding me back, punk!" screamed Sean. They
were so full of it. They were elated that they had been broken up. Neither
of them liked fighting, and they both feared getting their ass kicked in
public. The security guards settled the two down, and escorted them out of
the cafeteria.
"That's it? No warning? No nothing?" thought Pete as he watched the
security guard who had escorted him away walk back to his post. He was out of
breath, so, he walked out of the building into the courtyard. It was a little
chilly, but he had no choice. He had been kicked out of the cafeteria. He
didn't dare go back. He loved this job. He would hate to be fired for
something as stupid as a fight over a sandwich. A crappy sandwich, none the
less. He stopped for a breath of fresh air, and sat down on the nearest
bench. Unknowingly, he had sat down next to Sean, who still had bologna
sandwich all over himself. The scene was tense. They looked at each other.
"You didn't have to punch me." said Pete.
"You didn't have to throw the damn sandwich at me." replied Sean.
"Sorry." said Pete.
"You didn't have to throw in that cheap shot about the bathroom thing.
Where I ran out of toilet paper." sighed Sean.
"Yeah. That was kind of a cheap shot." agreed Pete.
"I could have easily yelled out about the Sears Catalog incident."
"I'm glad you didn't." said Pete. He had forgotten about the whole
'Sears Catalog' thing until now. ">VERY< glad you didn't."
"Well.. yeah. I'm sorry to for being such a childish asshole."
"It's ok. Stupid things like this happen." said Pete.
"Yeah. I was gonna give you the sandwich anyway."
"Damn. I'm hungry." said Pete. As he looked over to Sean, he saw
him taking a Hostess Twinkie out of his briefcase. Obviously trying to hide
it from Pete.
"You gonna eat that?"
|=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=|
| _____ Call Goat Blowers Anonymous for the LATEST HOE! _____ |
| 6/ ^..^ (215) 750 - 0392 ^..^ \9 |
| \_____(oo) This Issues Featured Support Board is: (oo)_____/ |
| WW WW Sin City [DSP HQ] WW WW |
| (209) 266 - 4249 |
| ...the kings of modern goofiness... |
|=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=|
Copyright (c) 1994 HoE Publications and Black Francis. #56 --> 02/04/95
All rights Reserved.
