Fry Guy, My Guy

 

Tablo reader up chevron

Introduction

   I suck at this job. Yet, the boss keeps sending me back. At this rate, I’ll spend eternity stuck topside, whereas I want to be one of those guys at intake who have the cushy job. Greeters, they’re called. All they have to do is explain to newbies that their afterlife isn’t going to be all halos and wings before telling them which circle of hell their shitty actions in life merit.

   Puppeteers like me get the grunt work. Every day I clock in, pick a random assignment, and head to the surface for my mark. Today’s lucky winner in the possession lottery is Zack Braxton. Zack fiddled around with an Ouija board last night, and I’m subsequently about to wreck his day, or at least that’s my job. (If only I were good at it.)

   Zack’s alone in his apartment this morning. He’s wearing boxers and reading the back of the cereal box with great interest while shoveling multi-colored bites of sugar and artificial ingredients into his mouth. Let’s see, the work order says he’s a fry cook. From the looks of his apartment, I’d say that’s accurate.

   Once inside his skin, I stretch, cracking my neck—or Zack’s neck, to be exact. I test the limits of my control, wiggling each finger. Good, he’s 100% mine. I can hear his frantic inner monologue beating around against his brain like a bug trapped under glass. Keep fighting, but you’re mine for the day, buddy. Let’s get dressed and see what kind of havoc I can create at the Burger Palace.

   Within the hour, I’m standing behind a deep fryer. Let’s start the day with Latin, shall we. I straighten up to recite something about fuzzy wuzzy, but I catch movement in my peripheral vision. She is careening towards the fryer, having lost her balance on the fries I straight up dumped on the floor earlier.

   I don’t think. I just catch her. She looks from the bubbling grease to me, astonished by how close she came to injury. “Thank you,” she says. “I lost my balance.” She kisses my cheek and rights herself, putting me off guard long enough for Zack to force me out. He jolts into his body like a colt released to pasture for the first time. I watch as he catches the young lady by the arm and says, “Jen, maybe we could do dinner tonight?” She nods enthusiastically.  

   Zack smiles and looks up. He sees me, as they all do afterwards. I smile back at him, revealing my razor-sharp teeth. “Thanks,” he says, unnerved. “I’ve been trying to get her to notice me for weeks.” With that, he simply turns back to his work and ignores me. He has bested me. Worse yet, I managed to give him something he wanted instead of taking something away. The boss will be pissed. I’m sure I’ll end up in a Kardashian or some shit as punishment tomorrow. Great.

 

Comment Log in or Join Tablo to comment on this chapter...
~

You might like Victoria Kidd's other books...