If anyone had asked me ten years ago where I would be today, my answer would probably (hopefully) be “Running The Centre.”

Ten years past that time, the truth is slightly different. Today, not only am I not running The Centre, now there isn’t even a Centre to be run.

So much for my pets... It was all taken away from me. One of the most powerful companies in the whole world is now an abandoned building. And all because of one man.

Damn him! Whoever he is...


Three weeks past that event, and having my bank accounts all dried out (I only realize now how expensive these oxygen tanks can be) I was forced to look for a job.

It took me a while but I did it – I’m working at a gas station. Hey, I’ve been dealing with gas for quite some time now. I know the terrain. Besides, it’s not such a bad job. I get well paid (already paid the rent at the motel where I’m staying) and I get to choose my own shift.

The only trouble is that it’s a very lonely job. I miss having someone to dissect. Oh well, might as well forget it.

Tonight is my tenth night since I begin working here. It’s 4 am and apart from me, there’s no one else around. Which is good, in a way. My supervisor told me that Saturday nights are usually the most dangerous nights.

“A lot of robberies, some murders. And quite a bit of violence.” He said.

I wipe a newborn tear with a scarf. This brings back memories of my kindergarten years.

Inside my cabin I feel like a king and the music playing reinforces that statement. “Queen – God Save The Queen.”

Actually, I would prefer if the music was called “God Save The King”. Maybe I should had brought my Freddie Mercury clone. He would make a new version.

Yet, I know it wouldn’t have worked. I had Jarod sim it and he told me the song would only work if the song was called “God Save The Queen”. So I asked him:


And then he said:

“Because the song is going to be dedicated to the queen of England.”

“Why don’t they dedicate it to the king of France?”

“Because they’re British and France doesn’t have a king.”

I decided to stop the discussion at that point and electrocuted Jarod for a while. It always made me feel better. That and performing lobotomies on babies.

Suddenly I get drawn back to reality. The powerful headlights tell me I have a customer. I grab my tank and exit the cabin.

“Good evening sir, how may I be of assistance?”

(Man! If anyone knew the trouble I had to memorize this kind of speech. Luckily, I had acting lessons when I was in High School. I also had ballet lessons but I’m not going to say a word about it.)

“I need some gas.” He says with a most arrogant tone.

I like it.

“And you’re gonna get me some, baldie.”

Now, that I don’t like.

For a moment I consider saying “I don’t think I like your tone of voice.”

If I had my previous job, that’s what I would say (even though the odds of something like this happening if I was the chairman of The Centre are very slim). Unfortunately, my supervisor always told me I should be patient with customer. So instead of what I meant to say, I say:

“Certainly, sir.”

I begin to fill up his tank.

“How much will it be, sir?”

“All of it. I want it full.”

And so I do.


Once the tank is full I turn to him to tell how much it is. It is then that he decides to draw a gun and points it at me.

“I have a better idea. You give your money and I’ll let you live?”

“I’m sorry but I’m not allowed to do that, sir. My supervisor would not appreciate it”

“Screw your supervisor. If you don’t give me the money, I’m the one who’s gonna screw you.”

I feel like I am at a dead end. There is no one else around to call. What can I do?

Then we hear a sound. A car approaching. We both look. It is a police car. I think to myself Damn! They found me!

The door opens and – this is absolutely true – Robocop exits the vehicle and asks me in his (its?) mechanical voice.

“Dead or alive you’re... Sorry, what story is this?”

“Who forgot to pay the rent?, chapter two.” I answer.

“Oh, sorry. Wrong story.” He’s about to return to his car when he turns to us again and asks “Which is the fastest way to Detroit?”

“Follow the yellow brick road.” Someone says.

We all look around but don’t see anyone. Nevertheless, Robocop returns to the car and drives away.

“Where was I? The robber asks me.

“You were considering the chance of engaging in sexual intercourse with me.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“But you said...”

“I mean it metaphorically!” He snapped.

“You don’t need to get upset. It was only a misunderstanding.”

“You know what? Forget it, I’m off. This getting too silly.”

He walks to his bike and starts the engine.

“You can’t leave! The story isn’t over yet!”








“There. There’s your end. Happy now?”

“Fine.” I hand him a card. “Here’s your bonus card.”

“Thanks.” He puts the card on his pocket. “Same time next week?” He asks.

“I’ll be here.”