“It was supposed to be a simple job– and it was: Go in, Grab the target, Get out. We did everything right. It’s like life lined up in those ‘synchronicities the spiritual whackos on social media always yap about. Almost like God wanted us to succeed. These corporations? They have some bite, because they got money. But they can’t chew for shit. They take out whistleblowers in sloppy fashion, but they don’t pay attention to people like us: Cashiers. Desk Jockeys. Janitors. Maids. They see us as expendable, but not a threat, and surely not lethal. M’thankful that’s where they f*ck up. It made our entrance easier.

One asshole did think he was hot stuff, though. Head of security; military vet. Shot at me, but he missed, and only because I was already mid-duck to secure the target. He didn’t know who I was under the mask. If he did though, he probably woulda got me. He knows me. I’m a vet too. Whenever we worked night shifts at the same time, he would keep telling me he could get me into the security division for this f*ckin’ place, but I always turned it down; politely, just to keep my head low. Sometimes, we’d trade stories about our tours. Some of the stories were more like confessions. I’m not proud of what I did for this country. Wars are a lie, but that’s where we differed. He liked not having to be held accountable for some of the shit he said he did. He didn’t give a shit about what the country was warring over, he just likes killin’. So I knew when he shot, he wasn’t shooting to wound.

But it was either me, or him, and I don’t think twice, either. I almost felt bad, but I remembered that wars aren’t fought solely overseas. Everyone’s fighting a war, right here, in this f*ckin’ despicable country. Wars in the mind, wars in banks, wars with landlords, with partners, with bosses, and with ourselves. And these dickheads prosper off of it, and call all the staff a family. Family my ass. David died of an aneurism, mid shift, minutes before lunchtime. He was replaced before I came back from my break. And he was a goddamn regional manager for this company. No employee meeting to honor him, no days off, nothing. So do I feel bad about us hacking their shit and kidnapping the CEO during his visit? Gee I don’t know, are cardinals neon green? It’s not about the money. That’s just severance. It’s about showing the people in this country that we have the power to really fck shit up, we just gotta stop being pussies about it. We all have shit to lose, but we lose it daily, and wait for someone to save us like Superman’s real or some shit. Nobody is coming to save us, yinz beautiful, traumatized, numb nutz’. It’s easier said than done, but would you rather risk it for a better world, or wait until they replace you with A.I.? They’re coming for us all, not just fast food workers. Not just for call center comrades. Teachers and construction workers too. Maybe our efforts mean something, or maybe society will just write it off as more “disgruntled” employees. I can’t carry every meatbag on my goddamn back. It took everything in me to commit to this with the rest of our crew. But we came out on top. And if we’re going down, we’re taking the CEO’s with us. These f*cks aren’t gods, they’re greedy privileged c*nts who never gave a damn about anything they couldn’t spend.

… I don’t really believe in God. I’m not inclined to, and I’m not obligated to. But after this? Maybe theres an eye in the sky – or behind my own body – looking out for us. If not God, then surely the Devil. Whoever it is, really wanted us to win. We cleaned up good…”

(Excerpt from a story I made)