Chapter 7: Flip Or Else
A day had gone by since the vomit incident. It still haunted Borislav, whenever he remembered Nomia's angelic face, the way she made him feel...he thought of holding her hands and flying off to her true home in heaven, ascending above the clouds, so close to reaching it when out of nowhere, a demon harboring wings and a bulldog face arrives and covers them in puke, ruining their beautiful love.
Saying he was resentful towards Flabby would be an understatement. Yet he couldn't bring himself to kick him out, instead, he went to buy a leash and some actual dog food at the nearest Supermarket, hoping to avoid future problems. As for Flabby, he might have felt ounces of guilt. He stayed away from the hooman, exhibiting a sad look on his face and keeping quiet.
Not everything was bad for Borislav, though. He had just received a text from an unknown number, notifying him that his job application had been looked over and that he was qualified for a job interview on Friday, it was signed by a certain Shattyk Liwei on behalf of "Flippin' Cool Patties UnLtd". The time was fixed to 10 am, at the fast-food chain's outlet on Budhak Street.
Borislav didn't expect a response to come this fast, being both pleased and anxious that it did. He would be able to start working and earning his own money soon, hoping to reach the equivalent of 848 080 pals needed to get HeroKorp off his back and finally gain access to the bank account his mother had secured for him. If he kept his expenses low, he should be able to pay all of it back with the minimum wage by...6 years. If he hadn't stopped working for HeroKorp, he would have gained access in two years, at 25. Working three times the amount of years in complete austerity wasn't a great prospect, but it was his only choice. He could never go back there.
He spent his day informing himself online on how to do well at job interviews, rehearsing his body language and pre-cooked sentences. During his break, he tried to take Flabby out so that nothing smelly happens in the flat, however, the dog absolutely wouldn't let him put a leash around his neck. Borislav was met with extensive hostility as he grabbed the leash and tried catching the hound, who was running around the house fleeing from the threat of captivity. In the end, the Hooman waved the white flag.
He followed the dog to the door, unsealed it, and simply expected him to go down to the street on his own. Flabby could have done that, he was a smart dog after all. He could walk to the park all by himself, if he wanted he could probably run throughout the island and come back to the building the next day. He just didn't want to. Flabby had *something* to show Borislav, and so as usual he barked at him until he gave in.
The 110lbs dog led Borislav this time not down, but up the stairs. After going up two floors, they reached the last staircase of the building. It led directly to the roof. A whole little park was to be found, rendered invisible from the street by the giant empty billboard planted at the top of the building. Someone had made a little garden, taking the length of the roof and the width of a dining table. All sorts of vegetables and fruits sprung from it; tomatoes, carrots, strawberries, even rhubarb. Unusual choices for a tropical climate. Near the garden, there was an old cafeteria bench, with the names and hearts of past lovers inscribed all over it. On the other side, one could find a deckchair and a camping table placed against it.
It was overall a mysterious place, where hints of the past aroused newcomers' interests. Was it what Flabby wanted to show Borislav? Perhaps as a way to make amends; or he could just have been a dog with a narcissistic complex, wanting to have company while emptying himself in the middle of a well-kept garden to boast about it. As usual, he had ruined everything.
Borislav felt awfully bad for whoever was keeping this small plantation, the work put into it must have been huge. He wasn't going to try to stop it though, instead, he rationalized that it was a natural process of fertilization and other sorts of excuses. Had he been honest with himself, he would have simply shrugged and said "At least I won't have to walk him" and leave it at that. He approached the corner of the roof, having only a small fence separating him from the void. The view reached far into the city, Borislav felt the evening breeze as he glanced at the streets he'd be roaming by Friday.
When Friday came, he was indeed doing it, trying to find his way towards Budhak street. He could have asked Fabius to give him Not Tony's phone number, but he didn't want to needlessly start spending money on transportation, the online map had indicated it was a mere 40 minutes walk anyways. Borislav was never the best at orienting himself in unknown places, but he wasn't the worse either. He had gone to sleep at 3 am after waiting for about 3 hours for Blobby to be done with using the bath, and spent 10 minutes spraying the whole bathroom with his deodorant to eliminate the stink of fish. He opted for the shower which had been relatively spared from blobby's stink and he finally took his first shower in 3 days.
He then had to deal with his sleep-depriving thoughts, until finally, his body fell out of consciousness. Following that, he was awakened a mere two hours later by Flabby and decided not to head back to sleep afterwards. He had a gut feeling since morning that this day would be disastrous, and it kept bugging him as he walked unsteadily towards Budhak Street. He reached it at 9 am, having taken a bit over an hour. He still had two hours to spend before the interview and hadn't brought any distraction with him. He sat at one of the tables outside the Flippin' Cool Patties, more commonly called FCP.
He felt strange to sit down there, facing away from the table and having obviously no intention to order anything. He hadn't even caught a newspaper or book to read, that could have made him appear a tad bit normal. He was just sitting there, dressed in a hoodie and shorts and wearing heavily tainted white shoes. He wouldn't have been surprised if someone would have approached him to buy *magic* powder or things of the sort. He was sitting there like a shady statue, checking his watch every two minutes, expecting an hour to have passed every time.
Time passed and few people came and left, sparsely occupying other tables with the poison they had ordered. Unexpectedly, Borislav was removed from his state of semi-trance by a bun-wearing man, slightly under his height. "Hey, you mind if I sit here?" he asked, Borislav gestured that he didn't. The man was freshly shaved and wearing a suit, as well as a tie. A dragon was drawn on his light brown neck, stopping right under his weak jawline. Minutes went by, where Borislav paid no attention to him, preferring to count the seconds passing until 11 am. However, his eyes couldn't resist drifting back towards the bench neighbor when he heard him pull out something from his backpack. It was a book, but not a random book. It was Ivan Lockal's "White Night On Sveta's Bed".
The stranger seemed embarrassed by Borislav's look. "You know that book?" he asked, intending to make the strange guy in a hoodie equally embarrassed. Borislav replied, "No. I just saw, -, several people reading it." The stranger enthusiastically retorted: "Yeah that's why I'm reading it. Women keep buying this guy's books and I'm sorta studying hows and why. Trying to study Women's psychology and all, you get me?". Whoever this man was, he was quite dedicated to his studies. "Sure. Yeah" Borislav faltered, before asking: "So- what is...it about?". The stranger turned the book on its back and handed it to Borislav so that he could read the synopsis. He took a keen interest in it.
"Vampire by night, Yoga Teacher by day, Gradimir Mudakov becomes obsessed with one of his students, Svetlana Zemlinskaya. When she stops coming to his class, he investigates and uncovers that she's been chosen as bride by the Prince Of The Night. Will Gradimir be able to face the wrath of the Vampire Council as he tries to stop her from becoming the Prince's sexual toy? You can find out by reading Ivan Lockal's most recent masterpiece, an adventure filled with twists, passion & thrill.
'10/10. A wet dream come to life'
-Janisbure Times
'9/10. Will leave you shaking'
-The Morning Dove "
Borislav had never been particularly fond of books, but he was still estranged by what he had just read. It was oddly fascinating that so many people loved this work. "It's pretty dumb right?" threw the stranger, as Borislav gave the book back to him. Borislav shrugged in response, not wanting to emit any judgment before reading it himself. The stranger presented an unrequested thesis, "I used to think those were dumb plots that simply worked because they were not complex and entertaining, but ever since my last break up", he paused, seemingly turning less confident, before going on, "I've been looking into the *Art* of Seduction. I went to my first workshop on Tuesday and the Crackerjack started talking about the two minds of women, the conscious and the subconscious." Borislav listened closely, positively surprised to find out the stranger was so knowledgeable, although he still wondered what a "Crackerjack" was, and had never known before that there were whole workshops dedicated to this mysterious art.
The stranger continued his lecture, "So it made me realize something about this book. Like the Yoga Teacher vs Prince of the Night thing is all about conscious vs unconscious desire, you know? One is the tame, kind, knight that sacrifices himself for Svetlana, and the other is the strong, shimga male who makes no excuses and takes what he wants. The Ying & the Yang". Borislav didn't catch the meaning of all of it but was still impressed by the stranger's fascination with the subject.
"And what's a Crackerjack?" Borislav quietly inquired, getting a detailed response from the lecturer; "Oh. It's the Highest Rank in the Seduction Game. I'm referring to our teacher here. He's a Shimga-oriented Crackerjack, while I'm more of a Phala-directed Dishwasher. But I'm working towards being a crackerjack in the future too.". It seemed like this art had a complex hierarchical order, which prompted Borislav's immediate reply; "That's cool." After this, the conversation died out, which each of them checking their watches 6 times in the following ten minutes. The stranger was however curious about something, catching Borislav's attention again as he inquired; "What are you waiting for by the way?". "Job Interview" the sleep-deprived hero replied, only realizing now that his attire was anything but suitable for a job interview.
The stranger chuckled, "Me too. Let's hope we both get in". "Yeah." Borislav replied monotonously once again. Wanting to formalize their acquaintance, the stranger presented himself, exclaiming; "I'm Edfone by the way, but you can call me Ed.". Borislav gave his name in exchange, not propping up any additional bits of discussion.
A few minutes later as the watch showed 10:00, an FCP employee came towards them, greeting them before asking "Which one of you is Edfone Jack?". Edfone got up and was soon out of view, having surely gone to the interrogation room. As soon as he was no more around, Borislav nervously laughed. "Edfone Jack" he murmured repeatedly, hoping with all his heart that it was a fake name like his, and not something Edfone had to live with during his entire life.
Borislav ended up ordering something to eat, he still had an hour of wait left after all. Edfone came out thirty minutes from then, waving to his new acquaintance as he went back home. Having finished stuffing his stomach with grease and sugar, Borislav was soon called into the FCP, being guided towards the recruiter's office. As he stepped in, it was empty of any human presence. He spent another five minutes waiting on an armchair, admiring the showcased frames containing medals, awards for bogus competitions, and family pictures.
A chunky middle-aged man soon stepped in, reeking of cologne and with his office shirt tainted by extensive amounts of sweat. He went directly to his place, burying himself in his chair as he unwrapped a burger in his hands and placed his legs on the fancy acacia desk. "So you're Borislav Azurfin ?" he burped in his raucous voice. "Yes" Borislav replied. Shattyk Liwei kept asking questions to which he already had the answer, as Borislav kept replying the same exact way. It went on like that for 10 minutes, as the fan above creaked. The last rhetorical question to be asked was this; "You're 23, already have a degree in Quantum Physics, Behavioral Sciences & Linguistics and you're applying here in an has been Fast Food Chain that pays you like shit?".
Borislav was about to say "Yes." again, but was cut short by Shattyk's conclusion; "You're absolutely desperate, a talented soul gone to fucking waste. You've already given up on life, you look miserable, you're just like a beaten-up puppy. All you say is 'yes' like you're some kind of broken robot who spends its time being a slave to humanity till its last beep. Clients will see you and feel the compulsive desire to treat you like you're radioactive waste. They'll have fun abusing of how much you need to keep that job, they'll throw insults at you and see it have no consequences. You're the incarnation of nothingness, you're a sheep. The mere fact of seeing you behind that counter or flipping burgers mechanically in the back will make them feel more confident than ever, realizing that despite also being sheeps, they'll never be as garbage as that powerless dog in an orange uniform that would lick the floor for 50 pals." Shattyk's face turned to a watery red, as he kept on yelling at our poor protagonist.
Borislav was about to burst into tears, astounded. He felt the weight of a dozen trucks on his heart, freezing as he stared into the malicious eyes of the HR manager. He was about to say something, a sentence starting with a f and ending with a u, then he'd run away, just like he did on Tuesday. But then, Shattyk changed his tone to a more formal one, announcing; "You're exactly what we need. You should start next Monday, check your internet stuff for the confirmation." Borislav unfroze, responding with a "Yes." before being told "Now get out." and obeying blindly.
As he walked home, he thought about how he had been treated. Not an ounce of respect came from that man, only insults on top of insults, only humiliation. He wondered how it would be once he started working there, if the clients would really act in such a despising way, seeing him as less than human. Would that change him? He had always felt like an impostor wearing his HeroKorp stamped outfit, every compliment, every story from children about how he was inspiring them, never felt like they were directed towards him. Would the insults he'd receive at work feel the same way?
Weekly Power Status
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