The Job

Wet from the rain, Bob opened the door and complained, “I’m sick of doing it, every freakin’ day I go into that office and put up with some kind of special dumbness! It’s special I tell ya, those idiot ass people, I don’t even know how they actually make it through the day without killing themselves.

“Oh for pete’s sake! Don’t get so involved with them, it’s just a job and you’ll be gone in a few days.” Betty told him.

“You don’t put up with it, you just bang away on that keyboard,” he quit talking as he sat down in the chair across from her and plugged the USB cable into the hidden port behind his left ear.

Betty made some keystrokes and computer code filled the screen. “You really got lots of information today, you won’t have to go back after all.” she told him as the data spilled out of his head. “go and relax.” she suggested as she unplugged the cable.

Bob didn’t have to be told twice, he shed his clothes, pulled the shower curtain back and hopped in. “Relax” she said. He removed his disguise and unfurled his tentacles and antennae as both stretched out and lengthened to their full extent. His right wing touched the smooth, cool tile of the shower; the left fluttered and flapped as it tangled with the dangling curtain. He stood for a long time before he climbed out and crawled into the large cocoon he prepared the night before.

A few hours later Betty roused him, “Bob, you will have to go back one more day, I need a few more pieces of information, to tie up the file before we can leave.” Bob hissed at her and went back to sleep.

295 wc