I took my newest founder to the Fire House to steal some things for a bit of startup cash, and maybe influence public opinion on free speech a little. The way things unfolded made me laugh, then inspired me to write a little something after I realized the impact of what had happened.
Here's the narrative breakdown:
Nick Justice was finally fed up. Tomorrow would be the day his plans were set into motion. He had seen it for too long, had sat idly, watching the rights of his fellow man taken away. This was fine for a time, the government is not without some sensibilities, but eventually, the state of the nation hit a turning point.
The 'moral majority' had in fact become the majority. A pacified herd of Conservative sheep, set on stripping Joe Citizen of even his most basic rights, all in the name of morality or security. What few liberated minds there were had not the courage nor conviction to take a stand for themselves. Something had to be done. Tomorrow would be the day. Nick smiled.
"Revolution, here I come."
The plan was simple. Start a terrorist political cell, and make so much of a damned rabble that the people would have no choice but to pull the veil of pacifism from off their faces. Whatever it took to fix the problem would be done. Heads would roll, if necessary. The only thing standing in between Nick Justice and his rebellion was the ever-present evil of day-to-day life. Money. Cash. Moolah.
Nick had just graduated college. Cash was tight, and political upheaval doesn't come cheap. It wouldn't take long for Conservative authorities to respond to what Nick Justice had cooked up in his pissed-off, far-left brain, and without a decent amount of money there would be no stopping them from shutting down his little operation. This was unacceptable. He had to arm himself, both for protection and for his image. People always respect the guy with the gun.
Tomorrow morning was all planned out, down the the last detail. It would be a simple fundraising venture, with an ironic twist of political flavoring thrown in to start things off on the left foot. Nick chose the local fire station as his target. He would arrive at 5:00 AM, catching the staff in an early-morning daze, grab whatever he could to pawn, and spraypaint a message advocating free speech on the way out. It reminded him of Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, a demonstration like that. Free speech in a house full of firemen. Hopefully Joe Citizen would catch the symbolism as well.
Sleep came easy for the first time in ages that night, and when dawn came, Nick Justice felt like a new man. Like a leader. The scales would be tipped, Justice would prevail, and society would no longer be an oppressed, repressed, depressed wreck. It was time.
The lobby of the firehouse was barren. Not a soul in sight. The door had been unlocked, and nobody had come out front to meet him when it shut noisily behind him with a thud. This was it. Nick made a move for a back hallway, keeping cautious eyes and ears out for anyone who could disrupt him. He followed it back into the heart of the station, passing a mail carrier on his way out. The man didn't even cast a sideways glance at Nick as he made his way for the nearest office. There had to be at least a computer to take.
CRASH! The office door went off its hinges easily, crumpling in like a matchstick house under the impact of Nick's boot. He hadn't wanted to be so blatant about his looting, but after 20 minutes of fiddling with the lock, and a wandering office clerk who nearly caught him in the act, there was no more time for games.
Jackpot! Hurriedly yanking cables left and right, Nick managed to get the PC tower unhooked and into his backpack in record time. This was all he really needed. He could hook it up to his own monitor at home and wipe whatever he needed to to cover his tracks, then sell it downtown for at least enough money to buy himself a nice piece. He shouldered his pack, and broke for the door, only to plow headlong into a very large, very pissed-off looking firefighter, axe in hand.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?"
No! This couldn't happen! He couldn't be caught so soon, failure was not an option. His mind raced, and he spat forth the only line he could think of to get this musclebound hulk that stood between him and his vision to move.
"Don't fucking come near me, I've got a gun, and I'll waste you so quick--"
Nick Justice's head hit the floor with a sickening thud, followed by another as his body crumpled to the ground in a crimson pool. He had never seen it coming, trying so desperately to bluff his way out of a fight. The firefighter had reacted the moment he heard the word gun, the axe had flown swift and true. The vision was over before it ever really began.
The fires of an uprising, quickly extinguished by the blood of its leader.
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Topic: All For Nothing (Read 1307 times)