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Ron Bleac

Ron Bleac at the Office

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02NOV10

Dear diary,

I'm at the office. It's a very boring day. It's raining outside, and nobody seems to be doing jack shit. We're all just kind of sitting here, and it doesn't help that the guy in my neighbouring cubicle is playing some extremely loud flash game about shooting zombies. I hate cubicles. I hate zombies. It is nearly lunch hour, and I peer over the walls of my tiny cardboard and frame cage to watch for the ominous appearance of a small line of people, waiting to make their way to the McDonalds a short distance from here. I'm waiting for something else, however. My chance to break for freedom.

It is now 10:54 AM. No signs of saving angels yet. Boss isn't at work. I'm slowly running out of supplies, the stack of Gummi bears I bought from a nearby trader don't seem to be enough to sustain myself. They're quickly running out, and if there was an agency like Green Peace to protect Gummi bears I'd probably look like Satan to them. My chair creaks as I roll around my cage like a trapped animal, circling my desk like Keller around the corpse of a dead surfer. From everywhere, the loud tick tick tick of keyboards grows louder, and quieter, like waves washing ashore. A cold sweat rolls off my brow. I look out the window, where the hell are they? I'm perched against the wall like a sniper waiting for his prey, like Harvey Oswald waiting to give Kennedy a new look. Where are they!?

Suddenly, I see a white van careen around the corner. I can see it approaching the building. Oh fuck, is this it? Yes, it is! My god, they're here! The red insignia of "Selecta" painted across the white side of the truck makes me jump in glee. Hell yes, finally, rescue is here! I feel like a sailor marooned on an island who has just seen his first ship in ten years. I hear the door open, and uniformed Selecta workers fill the vending machine in the hallway. Yessss, victory is here. And I'll be the first to claim the prize!

Click, clack. Cronk. The door shuts behind them and the vender is ready for use! I scurry over to the machine and insert the required amount of money. 2.50€. Sweet victory! A cold, fresh bottle of Coca-Cola is mine!

Ca-donk.

It fucking gave me a Pepsi.

FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUuu-

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