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Dedicated to Phoenix Quinn. The Cantankerous Busy-Body
He has been an inspiration to me. If you don't like the story, blame him.

I live for the weekends


I awaken, to find my orders, glaring at me;
Who started a resistance war with whom? What's the price of bread?
We have a war to maintain. I need to find the cheapest way to kill.

In the morning, it takes me a while to clear my head.
I had a crazy dream, that night. It was a reacquiring dream. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been quite as disturbing.

In the dream; There are many people gathered around a man, who was giving a speech. The crowd was completely enthralled with his speech, until he acknowledges me. “WELCOME BROOO, “ he screeched.
Everyone turns into these tentacled things and started coming at me.

The first time I had the dream; A glowing sword with an aura appeared in my hand. My muscles were tense. Suddenly, they all look pretty puny. I check my flank. Then I maneuver, so they are spread more thinly.
The first reptile, lunged at me. It 's nostrils were huge and it had no eyes.
I was terrified. So ,I cut the serpents head off.
Suddenly, I found myself, falling into an abyss.
The fall, didn't end. I was awakened, by the Department of Defense.

The second time I had that dream, I figure, “ It's just a dream.”
The man greets me and everyone turns into these snake-like reptile, things.
I chanced my tactics and I announced, “I come in peace.”
The creatures were lingering, until I introduced myself. Then, a couple of them, began to make their way in my direction. One of them came within a few feet. That's when I said, “I'm not here to hurt you.” The creature reacted, by charging at me. I jumped out of the way.
About a second later, I again, dropped into the abyss.

I've tried many different strategies, including, letting the tentacle things tear me apart. It always ends badly. So, I just keep telling myself, “It's a dream.”

I make myself presentable, (If you can call it that) and make my way to the employment agency.

I cross the railroad tracks, even though it's illegal. It's freezing balls and that saves me an hour. I haven't been caught, yet. (I've been doing it since I was a kid.)
I fill out a waver, before finding out, “Where to work,” then, I wait for the mass transit.
There are buses in town. But, I'm taking the cable car. Locals call it, “The People Mover.”

Entering the city, from my assigned living unit, is a unique perspective.
The city is built on ruins of an ancient, native city and is flanked by landfills. There are checkpoints and a huge crumbling wall.
“Duh!” What are they trying to protect?



I used to preach to my co-workers. Now, I can't tell with whom I am working. I've had years of fighting and starving. I like to share my experience.
Sure, I was leaving my propaganda pamphlets around. It was hard to tell who was picking them up. (It was only a shot in the dark.) Anyways, I've been slacking on that, too.

I work on a lathe, that day. I've been rifling, tank barrels. Although, I know how to use, all the factory tools. (It isn't rocket science.) Loading the bus-bar onto the lathe, was no picnic. Then, I would cut more bus-bars, into length. It was a heavy, greasy and dangerous, day.

There isn't much time for myself, when I get home. (Mass-transit doesn't run on my schedule.)
I shouldn't complain. I'm making more than most of the people, that I know. I just don't seem to be getting ahead.

I straighten up the house, drop some laundry, strength train and practice marshal arts. Then, I catch my breath, as I rifle through the battle menu.

*Knock, Knock* “Housekeeping”
It wasn't housekeeping. It was the guy from the neighboring unit.

I open the door. He is standing there, with a proud smile.

*Tom Joad* “What's Up?”

*Baywack* Hey man. Will you vote for my article?

I twitch my cheek, “Sure. Why not?”
I vote for the article. Then, I give a comment, based on my interpretation.

*Tom Joad* “ This is a good article.” “But, it doesn’t address the political platform.”
"What about Taxes, Military Aggression and ATOs?"

*Baywack* “@ GOTJ
If I'm elected, I'll ask about lowering taxes.

“Humph,” I think , to myself, “Where have I heard that, before?”

I again, delve into the battle menu.
I fire a few shots at Hungary. Then, I get hungry, myself.
I don't feel like spending a lot of time on the meal. I open a can of soup and make two peanut-butter, sandwiches. Then, I munch one of the sandwiches, while the microwave works it's magic.

I return, to the battle in the Ukraine. I had the most influence, at last inspection. No doubt, someone has fired some rockets. (Even though the battle was already lost.) “Oh, Well!” Time to go to bed, anyways. I check the laundry.

Two addicts, stumble from the laundry room. I recognize them, from another building. There eyes are huge and both bow their heads. It's as if they are afraid I will hit them. Once they are passed, I enter the room and get a look at their paraphernalia. I haven't locked the door. So, I hurry, to get my laundry.

Fortunately, nothing is missing. They probably don't know which unit is mine.

It's passed my bedtime.
I call Nikki, (My Girlfriend) Then, tell her about my day.
We only see one another, on weekends.
I straighten up the house and get into bed.
My past, injuries keep me aching, until I fall asleep.

In a few hours; (The one that got away)