Around the Table
NIGHT SHIFT
My camera's broken, so I had to use my iPhone to light the way. It doesn't do much, but my eyes adjusted enough to the darkness surrounding me. I'm not guarding much. I'm just walking in squares around a "sacred plate." The boss won't tell anyone why the plate's at all sacred, it just looks like a regular porcelain plate. It's very important, though, I know that. Countless men have broken through the same window on the ceiling and tried to snag the plate from the pedestal. Boss put a glass box around the entire pedestal, but it's really, really thin. Here I am, though, armed with a baton, a knife, and an iPhone.
I got this job last week. I just needed money. Good money. Fast. This is how I got it. I was able to afford a nice house, a nice car, and decent food through this job alone. It's tough, though. Every time someone breaks that damned window on the ceiling, Boss docks my pay. If I let him go, whether he was empty-handed or not, Boss docks my pay. So I have to set down a bear trap in every possible exit so ensure my pay doesn't get docked twice when some idiot crashes through the roof.
Let me take you to a time when I first ran night shift. Last week, at dusk, a few thugs decided to approach me. It's not like they didn't look suspicious, they wore a lot of black. A black shirt, black pants, black shoes, black gloves, black bags, black sunglasses, black golfers' hats.
"Excuse me," I began, "but you shouldn't be here."
"Look. We know you just got this job. We're willing to not beat the crap out of you if you just hand over that plate behind you."
I looked behind me. Sure enough, the plate was still normal and present. I looked back at the goon in front.
"You shouldn't be here," I repeated.
The criminal took of his hat and cracked his knuckles. "Well, then, if you want to play it that way."
He threw his hands around my neck while the other two went for the plate. He smacked the choker in the side with my baton and kicked him away. He quickly regained footing and put me in a headlock, so I threw him over my head. With luck, the throw propelled this man into the other two goons, and they scrambled out of there. It was quite exhilarating.
Boss docked my pay lots that day.
But now, here I am, armed with little and surrounded by darkness and bear traps. The room wasn't entirely dark; moonlight flooded the area from the ceiling window. It wasn't long before glass fell from the sky and the loud shattering rang in my ears. I looked up after all of the glass had fell, but I didn't see anyone. Suddenly, a huge rock plummeted from the ceiling window! I barely jumped out of the way in time, but my quick wit landed me in a bear trap. I screamed as the pain spiked through my shoulder and as the blood ran down the trap onto the floor. I couldn't see it, but I felt it. The wetness as I trailed my fingers along the trap told me that I was bleeding.
A lot.
I watched as a thin figure slowly floated down onto the rock that fell upon the now-shattered pedestal. The plate was nowhere to be seen. What more that grabbed my attention was how this criminal had gently descended without the use of a cable! It was impossible!
The figure bathed in moonlight. It had slender limbs and dark clothing. Dark clothing like most generic criminals wear. Over its face was a white mask with two elliptical holes for eyes.
It appeared to have no interest in me. It stepped off of the rock and gently slid it across the room to reveal the plate that was underneath it. Slender fingers took the sacred plate. The voids for eyes gazed upon the porcelain, and then it looked towards the door which proceeded to open.
The threshold revealed a tall, well-built man in a well-fitted suit. His very presence demanded respect as he stepped into the room. His walk towards the figure was calm and collected, each step the shoes echoed in the room. I could see his mouth move as he exchanged words from the unusual figure, whom proceeded to hand the plate over to the man. His chuckle resounded throughout the area. I tried to free myself from the bear trap to stop these two from successfully leaving with the plate, but it wasn't long until the two thieves turned their heads to me.
I had made too much sound rattling the trap. All I had done was agitate the fresh wound, which spilled more life from my shoulder. I watched in an angry terror as the man in the suit walked over to me in the same slow and calm manner as when he walked in. He knelt before me and grinned.
"Looks like you're in a bit of trouble, there, lad," he said.
"You... You put that plate back!" I exclaimed behind clenched teeth, hissing with anger.
"No, thanks," he replied, as his eyes glazed over the valuable porcelain, "I think I'll take it with me. What you ought to do, though..."
With a serious demeanor, he stared into my soul.
"What you ought to do is stop working here." After a pause, he continued, "Your boss is obviously going to want this back. My advice is to leave this job you have before" -- he points at himself -- "The Butler serves your ass to you."
I forgot to breathe. His warning and authority he demanded had me frozen. I could only watch in a frightened silence as the Butler coldly walked away from my wounded self, unable to move due to the trap, towards the front doors. He turns to the masked figure.
"Tear this place apart."
And the last thing I saw was the milk-white mask of terror behind a holy inferno.
I got this job last week. I just needed money. Good money. Fast. This is how I got it. I was able to afford a nice house, a nice car, and decent food through this job alone. It's tough, though. Every time someone breaks that damned window on the ceiling, Boss docks my pay. If I let him go, whether he was empty-handed or not, Boss docks my pay. So I have to set down a bear trap in every possible exit so ensure my pay doesn't get docked twice when some idiot crashes through the roof.
Let me take you to a time when I first ran night shift. Last week, at dusk, a few thugs decided to approach me. It's not like they didn't look suspicious, they wore a lot of black. A black shirt, black pants, black shoes, black gloves, black bags, black sunglasses, black golfers' hats.
"Excuse me," I began, "but you shouldn't be here."
"Look. We know you just got this job. We're willing to not beat the crap out of you if you just hand over that plate behind you."
I looked behind me. Sure enough, the plate was still normal and present. I looked back at the goon in front.
"You shouldn't be here," I repeated.
The criminal took of his hat and cracked his knuckles. "Well, then, if you want to play it that way."
He threw his hands around my neck while the other two went for the plate. He smacked the choker in the side with my baton and kicked him away. He quickly regained footing and put me in a headlock, so I threw him over my head. With luck, the throw propelled this man into the other two goons, and they scrambled out of there. It was quite exhilarating.
Boss docked my pay lots that day.
But now, here I am, armed with little and surrounded by darkness and bear traps. The room wasn't entirely dark; moonlight flooded the area from the ceiling window. It wasn't long before glass fell from the sky and the loud shattering rang in my ears. I looked up after all of the glass had fell, but I didn't see anyone. Suddenly, a huge rock plummeted from the ceiling window! I barely jumped out of the way in time, but my quick wit landed me in a bear trap. I screamed as the pain spiked through my shoulder and as the blood ran down the trap onto the floor. I couldn't see it, but I felt it. The wetness as I trailed my fingers along the trap told me that I was bleeding.
A lot.
I watched as a thin figure slowly floated down onto the rock that fell upon the now-shattered pedestal. The plate was nowhere to be seen. What more that grabbed my attention was how this criminal had gently descended without the use of a cable! It was impossible!
The figure bathed in moonlight. It had slender limbs and dark clothing. Dark clothing like most generic criminals wear. Over its face was a white mask with two elliptical holes for eyes.
It appeared to have no interest in me. It stepped off of the rock and gently slid it across the room to reveal the plate that was underneath it. Slender fingers took the sacred plate. The voids for eyes gazed upon the porcelain, and then it looked towards the door which proceeded to open.
The threshold revealed a tall, well-built man in a well-fitted suit. His very presence demanded respect as he stepped into the room. His walk towards the figure was calm and collected, each step the shoes echoed in the room. I could see his mouth move as he exchanged words from the unusual figure, whom proceeded to hand the plate over to the man. His chuckle resounded throughout the area. I tried to free myself from the bear trap to stop these two from successfully leaving with the plate, but it wasn't long until the two thieves turned their heads to me.
I had made too much sound rattling the trap. All I had done was agitate the fresh wound, which spilled more life from my shoulder. I watched in an angry terror as the man in the suit walked over to me in the same slow and calm manner as when he walked in. He knelt before me and grinned.
"Looks like you're in a bit of trouble, there, lad," he said.
"You... You put that plate back!" I exclaimed behind clenched teeth, hissing with anger.
"No, thanks," he replied, as his eyes glazed over the valuable porcelain, "I think I'll take it with me. What you ought to do, though..."
With a serious demeanor, he stared into my soul.
"What you ought to do is stop working here." After a pause, he continued, "Your boss is obviously going to want this back. My advice is to leave this job you have before" -- he points at himself -- "The Butler serves your ass to you."
I forgot to breathe. His warning and authority he demanded had me frozen. I could only watch in a frightened silence as the Butler coldly walked away from my wounded self, unable to move due to the trap, towards the front doors. He turns to the masked figure.
"Tear this place apart."
And the last thing I saw was the milk-white mask of terror behind a holy inferno.
Completion Date: 6-20-12
Night Shift -- Comment?
Wed, 20th June, 2012
Tell me something. Anything. I bet you can totally relate to this when you go work night shift and use your flashlight to look at everything. Even though no one really does that anymore, there are cameras and things. But still, you totally do this everyday.
You should say something about it.
You should say something about it.