“We’ve everything ready to go and he’s willing to do it,” my boss told the big boss. Climb another step and someday we’ll sift through the murk.

“Well now, he doesn’t have a choice does he?”

The man’s seemingly innocuous remark struck me like a gut wrenching blow from a blunt and rather large object. My mirthless laughter foreshadowed the fury to follow, and I fervidly sent the rubbish bin through the wall with a deft kick, my seething temper expelling itself through my muscles while my lucid brain told me to remain calm. I spit in this middle manager’s face, tore his shirt as if I was a stud in a bad porn, and I told him to die. I witnessed my hand wrapping the telephone cable around his neck, strangling the last choking breath from his body while his eyes trembled in fright – they knew full well the monstrosity before them. My words of death becoming reality.

“I’m not a robot,” my voiced shrieked as my grip tightened around his neck. “There’s always a choice.”

“Well, I suppose he doesn’t,” was all my pitiful boss could say. He seized the truck keys from the man wearing a red striped tie. Crossing the arch of the door, he stretched his soiled cragged hand to me and dutifully dropped the keys in my outstretched palm.

“Alright,” I cleared my raspy throat and continued, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” I wished I’d strangled the man with his own tie. Why must he insist on having absolute power? I do suppose that it comes from the absolute power his many bosses lord over him, maybe he’s more the bitch than I am. He can’t fire me directly, but his bosses can surely fire him without trepidation. He gets off on his miniscule authority; it makes his dick hard with pleasure, but leaves his balls blue with pain since he lacks a hole to stick it in.

Presently I stepped outside to feel a clear breeze rush across my body, stirring a sense of freedom deep inside me. With a small silver key, I’d been given an entire morning away.