User:Neongenheg: Difference between revisions

{{Qud quote|&C(&Oextradimensional &CKevin looks where you're pointing, at the open Diet Coke in the fridge, and snort-laughs.)<br><br>&YDude, don't even... I don't even wanna... &W*laughing for real now; his voice frying ironically* &YGod, Tony fuckin' su-u-u-cks, dude!<br><br>&C(He closes the fridge, opens the freezer, and takes out his usual Tuesday breakfast, a pepperoni Hot Pocket. He puts it on a paper plate he stole from the food court. Technically just anyone can have those plates for free, including customers, but &Oextradimensional &CKevin always says he "stole it from the food court."<br><br>He closes Tuesdays, so he's off at 4 am; it's 8 pm now, already dark and a little chilly. You're off in fifteen minutes, so of course you're making yourself scarce in the break room instead of &bJust Go Face Shelves For Like Ten Minutes And Oh Don't Forget To Clock Out First Please&c.)<br><br>&YSo like...<br><br>&C(He stops; he's actually thinking now, not just talking shit. You see his reflexive annoyance melt into considered, indignant revulsion as he talks. He suddenly looks less tired, too.)<br><br>&YSo like what kind of a fuckin weirdo... &W*snort-laugh* &Ylike what kind of a fuckin' weirdo opens a &Rs&Yoda, drinks like HALF... like not even HALF of it, you know? And then he takes the REST of it, and like puts the rest of it in the fuckin' FRIDGE? Like I dunno, do you LIKE that it tastes like the fuckin' baking soda in the back of the fridge now?<br><br>&C(He closes the microwave door, maybe a little too hard, and pushes "add 30 seconds" the perfect number of times. The microwave hums. He looks back at you.)<br><br>&YAnd he gets so PISSED if he thinks someone like moved it, or threw it away, and it's like dude, YOU FORGOT where you put your soda, ok? Which is weird, because it's only ever on the counter under the microwave, or it's... &C(pointing) &Yyep! There it fuckin' is! In the fuckin' {{favilink|leering stalker|fridge}}! Fuckin' weirdo.<br><br>&C(He looks back at the microwave; a little over two minutes left. He snort-laughs again, and turns back to you, warmed by righteous anger.)<br><br>&YActually, you know what? I think I'm actually kinda pissed about this! If you can't finish a whole fuckin' soda in the time it takes to get fuckin' warm, how about you pour half into a cup, bring it to someone and make a fuckin' friend instead of putting half of it in the fridge to fuckin' get flat!! Like for real, if Tony walked up to me, once-a-fuckin'-day with a li'l Dixie cup full of Diet Coke, I'd like that dude SO much more! Hand to God! And and it's not because I like Diet Coke! I fuckin' hate Diet Coke, BUT! I would know that there was no chance I was gonna get fuckin' yelled at for throwing away his flat fuckin' soda because I thought it was fuckin' GARBAGE! GOD, Tony fuckin' SUCKS.<br><br>&C(He's loose now, smiling wryly. He opens the microwave door the second it beeps and takes the Hot Pocket to the counter.) <br><br>&YManagers don't even have to PAY for the sodas, you know.<br><br>&C(Using a disposable knife and fork, &Oextradimensional &CKevin spatchcocks his Hot Pocket to cool the inside faster. Kevin can't get clocked out until he gets clocks in, and he can't get clocked in until he finishes eating. He walks towards the back door.)<br><br>&YI don't think I've EVER seen that asshole finish a fuckin' soda.<br><br>&C(His loping gait thumps rhythmically down the stairs behind him; you hear the back door open, and then the rusty pnuematics of its slow but automatic closing. You'll see him around.)|noindent=true}}