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Life Workin for HBO, Part Four
Posted By: Hunter_Killer<jlp8118@sbcglobal.net>
Date: 24 December 2003, 3:18 PM
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(indent)The Sarge sent a rocket into the reactor, causing it to meltdown. "Let's get outa here," Yelled The Private, and the two started down the hallway...
I was working on another piece of fiction. The Adventures of Sarge, Part Thirteen[FINALE]. It was almost finished, anyway.
I printed out the large piece of Fiction(it took 5 and ½ Pages to print out), and shut down my computer.
I stood up, and exited my office. I submitted it, and sat down on one of the couches.
Two men, carrying a grunt trapped in a net between themselves, walked past the couch. "Got him," Said one, obviously relived and worn out.
I looked at up on the large grandfather clock of the wall. 5:00 P.M. And I was once again bored. So, I went into the departments hallway.
I walked up and down the great oak hall, with little to no aim. Then, my eyes spotted a small piece of lighter-colored wood, and I pressed my foot down on it.
The piece of wall in front of me turned around, flipped, revealing a door. The gold sign over the door read:
ONE ONE SE7EN
I entered, into a medium sized room, with white tiling for floor, roof, and walls. There were two doors. About 50 people were in line in front of one. It had a sign over it: GUEST STRIPS.
The other had a sign: KEEP OUT- STUNTMUTT ONLY
"Wow," I said, "He goes to great lengths to keep this Guest Strip Queue-"I looked at the tremendous line-"somewhat under control. Then why the hell does it continue to grow?!"
Two Sentinels hovered in front of me, and I jumped. "Are you Here for Guest Strip Queue?" One asked in mechanized voice.
"No..." I began. Then, I dived out of the way just in time to avoid a laser, which would have penetrated my chest cavity.
"REAL Great Lengths," I said to myself, as I ran out of the One One Se7en Office. The Sentinels did not pursue.
I decided what to do next. I would go out to the courtyard, and participate in the 'Hog Rally. That entertained me until 8:00 P.M. I won 5 Races, lost 3, and had 1 Draw. I won the rally.
At eight o' clock sharp, I proceeded to the Café, to participate in the n00b roast. That's right, folks. I wasn't lying to the n00b in the elevator in the morning.
A few interesting notes: 130 HBOers(Not including the 30 n00bs)turned up for it. Including Sterfrye. Ster was special; he was half man, half machine. Hawk and Agent Shade debated whether to roast him; in the end a few good rockets made the decision not to roast.
I came home at 9:30 P.M., with a 20 lb. slice of n00b meat wrapped up on my shoulder. Opening the door, I launched the meat onto my teak wood table. N00bs are heavier than one may think, man!
I turned on the TV, and noticed a Commercial with wide interest. A news team from Channel 11 News will be exploring HBO on live TV all morning long. Go figure. I hoped they wouldn't meddle into our affairs to much, for our sake, and they wouldn't go wandering off in HBO without an escort or guide. For their sake. You have no clue what lurks on the higher Levels until the roof.
I went to bed at 11:00 P.M., figuring tomorrow would be a nutbuster.
RING! RING! RING! I knew the drill. Pushing my blankets off of me, I climbed outa bed. After getting in my usual preparations in, I put on a Black T-Shirt, Blue Jeans, White Trenchcoat(Sometimes I wear this to fancy events at work. Oh well, you'd be surprised that how good it looks.), and tennis shoes. Oh well. No one looks at you feet at this job, mostly.
Having 'saddled up', I proceeded to work. When I got to the gate, I noticed that the news van had just arrived, and were checking in with the guard.
The smile the reporter had on didn't fool anyone, not even the Guard. She was telling the camera, "Amazing, isn't it? All this, just built around a computer game..."
I, walking up to the gate, said to her, "More than a game. A way of life. A job. From 7:30 to 9:30."
"Well, It appears we've run into an employee here. An interesting opportunity," She said, then rushed me in front of the camera. "Ok, hello. What's your name, and what do you do here at HBO?" She handed me the microphone.
"I am Hunter_Killer, and I work in the Fan Fiction Division of HBO," I said into the camera, not trying to fake a smile.
"And yes, I guess I'll show you around a smidgen, K? Good. If you'll follow me, It's easier if I lead..." I said to a question about to be poised.
But she said to me, "Just one more question before we begin, Mr. Hunter_Killer. Is every HBOer as young as you?"
"No. Most are at least 5 years older than me. In fact, I happen to be the youngest Employee in the history of HBO. Now, Let's go..."
The doors burst open, and I headed for my locker, like usual. A few Forum-goers were gossiping about various crap, as they usually do, and two Hackers were showing off to each other their cool weapon skins they made, on the benches to the side.
I opened my locker, and prepared my things. While I was packing and holstering and loading, the Reporter eyed my armament with interest.
As I was holstering my M6Ds, she couldn't contain the question any longer: "Mr. Hunter_Killer, why do you carry guns and ammunition and explosives? You're underage, and besides, those are dangerous. You shouldn't be handling them."
I knew this question would be poised, and was ready to give an answer. "I am fully qualified to bear arms under State Law, from a 45 Caliber Pistol to a 190mm Self Propelled artillery piece. Don't worry. People don't get hurt here."
I noticed screams of pain, and watched as a stretcher, pushed by four Medic Marines, rolled it's way down the hallway. On the stretcher was Walker, his left arm missing, and with blood all over him.
"Much," I added, with a weak smile and weaker laugh.
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