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::He walked down the hallway, feeling a little more sick than he did on the ride to work today. His eyes seemed to
painfully adjust to the unnatural lighting that permeated the building. The various bits of white, gray, more gray, and
grayer, did nothing to make the place appear to be habitable for humans with a desire to live. ...But
then again, whenever David Kidd showed up for work at the Storm Corporation, any desire to see another day faded away bleekly.
David walked down the hallway amongst the masses that worked for the ever important Johnny Storm. He tried to remember what
the man looked like, but all that came to mind was posed bland stock photo. Looking at the sea of employees dutifully
herded down this hall, their faces seemed just as non descript. All that real stood out was the drab blues, grays, browns,
and blacks worn by the people. Where is the life? The desire? The passion? The reason for being here?
::Stepping into his work area, cubicle in sight, Kidd caught a bit of some music playing from a
small radio. To low to immmediately identify, he nevertheless instinctively knew it, and hummed to himself. For brief
moments he wasn't trapped, smothered, lost, but elsewhere.
"...Some would say I was a lost man in a lost world
You could say I lost my faith in the people on T.V.
You could say I'd lost my belief in our politicians
They all seemed like game show hosts to me
If I ever lose my faith in you
There'd be nothing left for me to do
I could be lost inside their lies without a trace
But every time I close my eyes, I see your face..."
::As he softly sang along David realized it was Sting, he always liked his music, his lyrics. He rubbed his hand across his
smooth skull, and drank in the so--
Smooth?
::David looked at his hand confused, something was missing, he looked across the workspace as people took their places. He
shook his head instinctively not knowing why. Looking down he wore a white short sleeve collared shirt, black tie with
some artistically geometric shape on it, black pants, and some G@d awful black shoes! Where was the color? What color?
He rubbed his head again, and definitely felt something missing. He spun around and around, futilely looking for his bearings,
this wasn't right! This couldn't be right! Who could live this way? Why would they live this way? Suddenly he felt as if
he were miles away looking at the people in this corporation. As they dutifully went about their way, hoping for a tossing of
some kind of bread crumb by the famous Mr. Storm. A voice caught his attention, someone saying Joey, and he saw a younger gentleman.
He recognized him, somebody desperately clawing his way in the company, and going nowhere fast. All David wanted to call him
was 'Jackoff'! Another voice caught his attention, a shrill dandyish voice that made Kidd want to leap out of his own skin,
and use it to strangle the owner with it.
Man: I don't think I need to remind you Mr. Steele that with your attitude, timeliness can go along way
in insuring your stay with us!
Steele: I'm sorry Mr Box. I didn't mean to be late, but my dog was sick, and I had to take him to the v--
Mr. Box: That's Bock, Bock! You idiot! I don't care what the reason, just learn to tow the line! And learn how to use an iron!
Steele: Yessir Mr. Cock!
Mr. Bock: STEELE!
::A smirk crossed David's face, and it felt good. It felt natural. His eyes
narrowed as he looked about, an itch on his brain, when another voice intruded.
Voice: Don't you just hate that guy? I wish he'd go away so I could get his job.
::Kidd looked at the man next to him that just walked up, and his face turned to another familar expression,
a scowl of disgust. An eyebrow raised, his voice rough and unpleasant...
Kidd: Who the flying f--k are you? Can't you just get the job without waiting for the guy to drop dead or something?
Cryin' out loud! What do you need, someone to vacate something for you before you can get it? Your that Snoopy idiot right?
Get the f--k away from me skippy, before I drive my fist so far down your throat you'll be able to give people the finger
every time you bend over!
::The snoopy guy just looked at him pissed and walked away. Leaving Kidd
feeling satisfied for having pissed off someone else, when another lumbering pathetic soul walked up. This time it was the
security guard, proudly draped in his drab blue uniform, immune to the mocking done behind his back. He swaggered up, a hand
on a large metal flashlight, the other doing a 'Barney Fife' thing with his hat. Kidd cocked another eyebrow, looked at the
man with amusement, and awaited the blast of bad coffee breath.
Security Guard: Shouldn't you be in your little cubicle little man?
Kidd: Are you s#!tting me?! Who the f--k...? Listen Goonsday or whoever you are, take your knuckle
dragging nobody, never was, never will be @$$ the hell away from me now! Just accept the fact that you're doomed to be a
G@d d@mn joke around here and live with it! Maybe one day you were somebody here, but I'm sure it's because I wasn't here
to put in your f--king place! So unless you've become twice the man your mom was, I suggest you get a donut and stick to
hittin' on the cafeteria ladies. Maybe they'll be impressed with you! Or better yet, get a job as wrestler for some
Fans Federation, you look like the kind of freak they'd like! Somewhere where talent isn't an issue and sucking up is!
::The guard walked away with his head down, even David was stunned by the harshness of his words.
He just stood there trying to figure out where all that bile came from. Is it generated by the enviroment around him? Is it
something that lies buried deeply within, waiting for an opprotunity for release? And if so, what kind of release would
David Kidd indulge in... ?
Voice: Mr. Kidd! I do believe we have reached our starting time, and I do not see you at your
desk! Why is that?! Are we something special now? Are we a rebel of some kind, ...an outlaw?
::It was that same irritating voice that made David Kidd willing to sacrifice any part of himself to do
grievious bodily harm, to this raging @$$! David turned slowly around, using the time to quell a near murderous rage, and
faced Mr. Bock. His eyes seemed to grow, as if to devour every detail of Bock's person, to gain as many ways to injure the
man. Kidd's face regained it's normal expression, as he slowly and softly spoke between gritted teeth.
Kidd: I'm sorry Mr. Bock, I was just getting to my seat now.
Mr. Bock: I've been keeping an eye on you Mr. Kidd. Your always coming in here moping and dragging
yourself along. I've even heard word of you actually complaining! Where do you think you are? This is a company run by
one Mr. Storm. You will do as Mr. Storm says or you will find yourself on the wrong side of Mr. Storm's ire! Do I make
myself clear Mr. Kidd? Not all of us can be like myself, Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Od, or Damm. We are taken care of here!
YOU are merely a temp. Do not make me go over your supervisor's head, and talk to Catherine Jones! I certainly
will not miss you, and will enjoy sending your butt packing! What do you have to say to that Mr. Kidd?
::With absolutely no reaction, Kidd simply just looks at Mr. Bock. Mr. Bock
steps closer into his face waiting impatiently for a reaction. Finally David slowly and dryly responds...
Kidd: I find it disturbing when you speak of 'butt packing'.
Mr. Bock: What?! Listen smart @$$, perhaps you don't know who you're dealing with here! I am
natur- -
::David tiredly leans against a cubicle wall as Bock drones on pointlessly,
looking into his own cubicle to look at a picture hanging on a wall. David focused on it, it seemed to take him away from
this nightmare world. It was a picture of a seeming proud regal woman, someone that he never imagined would associate with him.
So strong was his reaction to the picture he could swear he could her the woman talking to him.
Talking to him with a very attractive English accent, that just seemed to soothe him...
Woman:David? David?
David!
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