Page 4 of Nicotine Slavery

cameras. He started slowly driving through the lanes of parking spaces, starting with the first lane, and the cars that followed and parked in one of the many empty spots probably thought he was just a little eccentric for not taking the parking spots. After about ten lanes he found the car, and had to laugh at the Boss’s thinking that when one parks farther away, the car is safe. He parked next to the wife’s car, then after shutting the motor off, he put a disposable hospital surgical glove on his left hand. Getting out of the car with his left hand in his vest pocket, in case somebody should be looking, and the car keys in his right, he walked around the back and opened up the trunk of the car.

  With the can in his left hand, he purposely dropped his keys in the direction of the BMW. Cursing loudly about how stupid and clumsy he was, he bent down behind the car, and shot a full load from the spray can into the exhaust pipe of the BMW. Then in one swift motion, he stood up while turning to his trunk, and let the can fall into the cardboard box he had prepared beforehand. The surgical glove was off and in the box in less than a second, and as he closed the trunk, he then picked up his rental key off the ground. Looking around as he got back into the car he noticed that all of his theatrical acting wasn’t even necessary as there wasn’t anybody in the general vicinity. He drove a complete circle around the shopping mall to deposit the box in the dumpster by the fast-food restaurant, (which was appropriate considering the crap they sell and calling it food!), and on the backside of the shopping mall he disposed of the surgical glove in one of the public garbage cans which wasn’t overflowing with empty fast-food packages, plastic drinking cups and straws. Wouldn’t be cool for them to find the glove with his DNA all over the inside of it! When that was finished, he parked up on the raised parking area which is where the store clerks are required to park their cars. With the motor now off and the earphones in place, he flipped through the play list on his player and stumbled upon a song that absolutely fit in the scheme of things. He tried to relax in the uncomfortably cheaply made seat of the Fiat and hit the play button. Queen started to sing about how ‘the show must go on!’, and in Gerald’s mind he could visualize fatty sitting with all of his elite friends in the middle of the mall and drinking expensive coffee from Starbucks. They probably try to figure out tricks on how to fire people so as to save the company a few dollars each month. Who knows! They don’t think about us as people, rather as a piece of property that they can utilize to earn even more with their stocks and bonds.

  Gerald had already started to get drowsy so he downed one of the XXL Red Bull’s and ate at least half of the chocolate chip cookies. He opened up the only two windows and let the warm summer breeze waft through the car. They must have had a double round of Cappuccino today, because it took lots longer than last week for him to come out to the car. The next showing of the newest Star Wars movie must start in about a half hour, he thought as more and more cars with young kids started to fill the parking lot. Just then someone came out of the revolving glass doors of the shopping mall, and with that huge belly in front of him and the way he had to waddle along, he was absolutely unmistakable!

  As he was walking to the car, he apparently said something sarcastic to a group of teenagers heading to the cinema, for it was as if they had studied some choreography when they all turned in unison, and gave him the middle finger! Gerald laughed so hard he almost had a coughing fit, and then remembering that he had the windows wide open, he toned it down a little. Boss man wriggled his way behind the steering wheel of the car, and cranked the starter, but only for a second. Gerald wasn’t a hundred percent sure that his trick would work, and as Boss man started to continuously crank the starter Gerald thought that he had failed. But suddenly there was a loud bang as the motor nearly exploded from all that back pressure, which naturally couldn’t escape through the exhaust pipe. Because it was filled with expanding PU Foam! And Gerald had made sure that he purchased the ‘Max Fill’ can because it expands the fastest, hardens the quickest, and would seal the exhaust pipe air tight all the way forward to the muffler.

  Gerald had a hunch that Boss man knew that he had been hit again, because as he stormed out of the car he was screaming at everything and everybody that was in earshot, and even farther. For Gerald could pick out bits and pieces of his ranting and raving as he was waving his arms in the air as if he was attempting to fly. “You SOB!… Kick your ass!… Catch you and blah, blah, blah!… Pay for this!… Make sure your ass goes to jail… Then he slammed the car door shut and as he walked towards the shopping mall doors, he hit the button to lock the car. For just a second Gerald wondered why he didn’t use his cell phone, till he remembered that the idiot had shattered it on the ground two days earlier. When Boss man was in the mall, Gerald started up, put his earphones back in and hearing Rick James stating that she was a ‘Super Freak’, drove home, today just a little faster because all those energy drinks always made him have to go pee.

  Thursday

  Gerald had no other choice than to take a break due to the fact that Boss man now had two cars in for repair. And naturally the custodian had to tell everybody that Boss man either wasn’t allowed to have the car today, or his wife’s car got hit and that’s why he arrived at work in a Taxi. Gerald figured that when the car was repaired, his wife wouldn’t let him even look at her car anymore. Tonight Gerald would take in an early movie and then fall into bed.

  Friday

  Gerald had to go down into the garage and check the serial number on the old Milling machine, for somehow there was a mix up and when the buyer came to see the machine, they checked the serial number and led him to one that was up and running in the factory. Naturally he had to look to see if there was a car in the parking spot, and was surprised to see the BMW sitting there just as pretty as right out of the showroom. It took him two times to write the serial number on his notepad, because his mind was already planning for the next attack, and he had an idea which would really put the triple whammy on the car of the Boss man’s wife. He had thought about it and to constantly destroy the Boss’s car was in fact also hurting the company, if he had full coverage insurance. And then the insurance agency would send a private investigator out to nab the culprit. And Gerald knew that that would truly be bad news for him. Destruction of company property is legal grounds for the termination of a work contract. Not to mention what the total sum would be that he would have to reimburse for all the repairs that had to be done on the two cars! So his only privately owned car, his wife’s car, would have to take the blunt of the attacks. Gerald was already satisfied with his revenge, and would strike only once more before quitting.

  The Boss had his peace for two days, but Gerald would strike tonight. Sort of, mess up his weekend? Hopefully!

  Gerald parked in a store parking lot all the way to the back so anybody seeing the car in the dark where the floodlights didn’t shine, would think that it was parked for overnight and not even give it a second thought. He grabbed his bag off the back seat and started walking. The BMW would be parked next to the garage by the Boss’s house, and the house was almost four blocks away from the shopping center. So he walked and took his time for he was almost an hour earlier before his planned time of attack. He even took a detour and walked through the park, stopping to observe the swans gliding wave less over the surface of the duck pond. He knew that the town turned off every second street light at eleven-thirty to save electricity, and he would wait the extra half hour till just after midnight, to make sure that nobody is still out making a late night walk with their dog. Gerald hated dogs, for either they were barking for no reason, or they smelled you and barked for no reason.

  He arrived just a few minutes after eleven-thirty and then had to hunker down behind the bushes till after midnight, and was happy that his mind was still capable of analytical planning, even after all these years of living the soft life of a civilian. Because ten minutes before midnight, some old man who probably couldn’t sleep anyways due to prostate problems, was hobbling along on his cane with the
ugliest and oldest bulldog Gerald had ever seen. What would have made him dangerous to the mission is that even though he could barely walk his mutt; his eyes must have been good enough, for he wore no glasses, even in his advanced age.

  When he was finished, he walked the more direct way to the stores parking lot. He had to get home because he simply had to see what happened when the car was towed into the repair shop tomorrow, and he needed his sleep so as to keep his senses sharp. The Boss would probably have a stroke when he jumps into the car bright and early tomorrow morning to get fresh bread and buns from the bakery for breakfast, and both back tires go flat. Too bad, they’ll have to eat cheap cereal like the poor working man does every morning.

  Saturday

  Gerald woke up and was absolutely excited to see his creative work come to bloom today. He tapped his fingers on the kitchen counter to the tune of Robbie Williams and Michael Bublè singing ‘Soda Pop’ and waited impatiently for the coffee machine to finally finish brewing. Then he sat at the kitchen table with his black