charlie meets the man

      with my cover intact, i have remained at this job for over 6 months now. both sides having exhausted their munitions have resulted to catapulting fax machines, shooting paperclips with rubber bands and throwing insults. our people are usually exhausted and sit in the trenches, hiden by grey office dividers. the work rarely slows. it's one advance after another. the other day one of the poor slipped into the trench and began his spree. "you son's of bitches," he started, "give me a late fee, will you! what am i supposed to do with a credit limit of $300?!". he was quickly pinned to the floor and executed. the carcus removed by a remote server. old ben sits next to me. he twists his apple stem, "a, b, c, d..." the stem breaks. "..d.. i'm gonna marry a dumbshit!". curious sort that ben. then there is sarah, "the little black cloud", we call her. i heard her giving a directive the other day, "a, as in annihilation. n, as in nepitism. a, as in apocalypse. h, as in hell. e as in epidemic. i, as in incedent. m, as in multinational.....do you need me to spell it again?". at night we retire to the perimiter. i damn near had my head removed by an incoming cathoid ray tube the other day. just as i was leaving for the day it landed on the second floor just outside the trenches. turned out to be a message from the head quarters of "the man". it read, "pets are not allowed in the perimiter at anytime. the janitorial service reported dog doo doo on the carpet of the second floor." i knew this message was for me. for at the side of my desk i had been keeping fake dog doo doo. when questioned i answered, "it was a gift!". the Human Reconditioning department considers me a possible liability. this is due mainly to my blatent disregard for protocal. the other day i found myself face to face with "the man" at the comisary. he started off slow and easy like he was trying to pick me up...

"how's it going in there?..." his hand stretched out.

"well i tell ya, whole lotta calls and not so many happy one's, but that's the nature of the business i suppose", accepting his hand.

"call volume is high?", crinkled brow.

"well they have a button for that", i joked, "it's just the attitude of the calls. i suppose that's what we get for giving credit cards to people on social security and disability." now here's where i play dumb. see, i know he's the man. i've seen him slinking around. wearing that suit and walking for hours with his monks. you can sometimes hear them chime in, "yes dark one! raise the fees, raise the fees!!!". like satans children.

"so are you new here?" i pretend he's a new rep.

he looks confused. suddenly a woman approaches with a little tomatoe face, one of the monks.

"i'm the man..." he says. the monk circles...

"well, pleased to meet you, the man. i've been following your work for sometime now."

"really?", he says. i don't offer my name, for fear it would endanger the mission.

"yes,..and oh, about the last directive, no reading inbetween calls...i think that's a bad idea. you do want your slaves,...i meant, uh, employees,...to gain knowledge don't you? i mean see it this way, the man....if there is a chance for us to get away from the screaming for even several seconds, well, it would really keep moral up."

the monk speaks, "are you telling me you need more calls?...i'm sure if that's the case i can remedy it?!...." her face flushes to the color of blood. her gums are caked with blood. a tooth falls out of her mouth and down her robe. she wipes her neck without looking.

"no, no, no...im sure it'll pick up. it was just a thought. you know,...thought?"

suddenly a silent bell rings and the man is rushed off by a monks waiving his latest sketches of huddled masses buring their money at the grave of jim morrison. another mocks the poor by performing a pantamime of a woman crying while cooking ramen over burning, now ancient text books. they laugh and hatch scemes. one of the guys in my regiment comes up with his keyboard, wipeing it clean of hair and fingernails.

"what was all that about?"

i answer, "you ever get that feelin' somethin's cheatin' on you?"

---------------------------------

      later in the solitude of my barracks, i arm myself with a thin copper wire. a message came in from back east. i'm holding it. one pound of coffee from a former work place that told me i didn't have enough fear. good coffee though, and sent by one of my favorite operatives. the message was written on the bag. spelling corrections, and the words i love you, written 5 times. i was pleased that headquarters appretiated my work.
      tonight they covered the sky with plastic bags for painting. it sounds like thunder when the wind blows. in virginia there are fire flies and lightning. hot summer nights when the grass sweats. here it is perpetual fall. the air is full of a sweet smell. the mayflies roll on their backs and spin in circles, like a trained circus act. forgotten because of their size. i watch them from my bed. lately i dream of a woman i barely know. she sends me a message on that wire almost everyday. i fear i will never meet her and yet i am filled with antisipation. my brother is in love. his room mate is in love. arron is in love. anna is in love. everyone in virginia is apparently not in love. at last count an apparent conspiracy of women sent more then 100 men on drunken meanderings. 2 of them have acctually left the east coast to expore the possibilities of kinder dwellings. i expect there visit within 3 weeks. jethrosan came baring my entire history of recorded rantings and the shrunken skull of a record company executive. we ate and and drank and made merry. carl and stephanie came out too. we attacked the city with new jersey accents and lude jestures that were poorly recieved. with the end of each visit i become sadend by my apparent solitude and yet know my work here isn't near completion. the latest message from head quarters stated, plans are being made, then, they involve you. that evening two operatives from the seattle office arrived in uniform. from their coded speech i believe i will be taking up residence in seattle come september 1st. my mission there is not clear yet. i only hope my ghosts return upon leaving this place. their absence has made me weary.

 

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