Fan Fic Fan Art Fan Video Submissions Share or Link Challenges 155 Word Vignettes Character Notes Scene Notes Miscellaneous Notes
SMC RSS Feed Email Digest

Search Tips

  • Searches are not case sensitive
  • OR will show results from the term in front of and behind, the word or
  • The - (minus) symbol will exclude results containing the term that directly follows it
  • All other terms are required in your search results
  • Place quotes around specific terms, such as "baby alien"
  • Parenthesis have no impact on your search results
  • View a list of common keywords in a new window/tab

Include Ratings:

Include Archive Types:


“This job sucks.”

“This job doesn’t suck, Bob, it’s just boring.”

“It sucks.”

“You have no idea what a bad job really is.”

“And you do?  Look at you, dressed all nice and fancy for this job, in your new jeans.”

“My last pair got destroyed on razor wire.  Didn’t do much for my back, either.”

Bob looked over at him, “How did that happen?”

Alex hesitated, “Trying to break into a military base.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“It was a dare, you know?  I can’t turn down a dare.  But I made it onto the base, and I got a hundred bucks from my friend for it.”

Bob looked him over, “How long before they caught you?”

“20 minutes.  You should see my police record, now,” Alex guffawed loudly.  “There’s our next stop.”

Bob pulled over, and Alex glanced in the side-view mirror, “This is only a couple boxes, I can get it.”

“Sure,” Bob answered.  He was too lazy to pass on an offer to do nothing.

Alex hopped out of the truck, walked around back, and pulled open the doors.  The first two boxes went into the truck with a snap.  He set down the third, yanked it open, and pulled out an old wallet.  He slipped it in his back pocket and taped the box shut with the packing tape gun that they kept, for the boxes that didn’t want to stay shut.  The forth box didn’t have any trouble.

“Took you long enough,” Bob commented as he got back into the truck.

“One of the boxes ripped, had to tape it shut,” Alex answered brusquely.  He looked at the map, “Looks like we’ve got two more stops, then we can drop this stuff off and go home.”

“Great.  I hate driving this big truck down these small residential streets.”

It was easy to see why.  Bob couldn’t have driven a Hugo through the Siberian tundra without hitting something.  Alex grunted his agreement, “Wish I had a Class A licence, I could drive for you.”  Which was totally untrue.  He had several Class A licenses, under several names.  But he didn’t have one that corresponded to the name Victor Plesk.

“I wish you did, too.  How’d you end up with this fucked-up job anyway?”

“It’s not a bad job, Bob, it’s just boring.  Driving around, trying to hold a conversation with some boring jerk - I imagine it must get old.  How long have you had this job, Bob?”

“About three years now,” Bob answered, oblivious to the insult.

Alex checked the schedule, “Make a right at the next light, and we’ll see if we can’t get this over with.  It’s a shame, with Rachel having food poisoning.  She’s the one who interviewed me, she gave me the job, and I was hoping to see her again today.”

“She is hot, isn’t she?  I always enjoy seeing her, when I clock in.”

“I can see why,” Alex nodded.

Almost an hour later, Alex climbed out of a small red Honda, “Thanks, Ron.  It’s great of you to carpool with me.  I’ll drive next week, once my car’s out of the shop.”

“No problem.  See you in the morning,” the car drove off.

Alex walked a flight of stairs to the apartment, up to the door, slipped the key in the lock, and went inside.  The door shut behind him, and he passed through the living room to the bedroom.  He pushed open the door, “How are you doing in here, Victor?”

The man on the bed stared at him.  The duct tape over his mouth prevented him from answering.

Alex pulled on a pair of gloves before he picked up the phone on the bedside table, “I’m going to call some help for you, and then I’ve got to get going.  I won’t be back.  And don’t worry, you made a very good impression at your new job today.  They’ll be glad to have you back tomorrow.  But your coworker, Bob, he’s sort of an asshole.  Sorry, that’s just the way it is.”

Alex dialed 911, and set the phone down on the bedside table, “Don’t worry, Mr. Plesk, you don’t have to talk.  They’ll send someone out to check on you when you don’t respond.”

He wiped his fingerprints off the key, and dropped it on the bed, “Since you were so cooperative, I’ll even let you keep the day’s earnings.”

A dispatcher’s voice on the line was just what he was waiting for.  He wiped down the doorknob on the way out, and caught the bus to the D.C. train station.  A man bumped into him as he walked to the seating, and Alex dropped the wallet.  He looked down, surprised, and leaned down, picking up the wallet, “Excuse me, Sir, you dropped your wallet!”

The man didn’t seem to hear the first time, but the second time, he turned around, “Oh!  Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it,” Alex answered.  He sat down, waiting for the train to New York to come in.  It would be nice to get home.

Step 1. Serve
Step 2. Resist from Within

This archive cross-referenced with:


blog comments powered by Disqus