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Description
There’s no more time for heroism. That’s why you don’t see the firefighters being interviewed after big fires. You never hear the cops’ story after the robbery. What you see is how it made other people lose their material items. It’s all about being a victim. It’s a competition to see who has suffered more. Who lost what and how.
They argue about who got hit more times as a child. It means they have more life experience, and therefore, they are smarter than you.
I’m sitting here in the break room trying to decide whether or not I should play the hero or the victim. Heroes always get more awards and backstage recognition. Victims get the pity donations and public recognition.
Then there’s always the third option: being a villain. You can get all the recognition, no awards, and all you have to do is be careful. That, and have an incredible defense attorney.
My boss, Georgiano Morts, comes through the door with a sandwich dripping mustard and some other condiment I can’t recognize. Disgusting pig, leaving a mess all over the place. “What are you still doing in here? Lunch break ended nine minutes ago.” I pull out my hero-destroyer.
The first victim is made and all the bystanders hear the evidence. My quick decision landed me on option number three, and that’s just fine. I was prepared to land on any of them. Just as long as they all knew my name. They could adore me, pity me, or fear me.
I went with the latter. That’s how I ended up where I am right now. Sandwiched between a heavyset fireman and a skeleton of a girl who weighs maybe 75 pounds.
The girl’s trying to scream with my hand cupped over her lips and the fireman has a gun to our heads. Keep in control, I tell myself. I know I have a victim-maker somewhere on me. I let the tiny girl scream for half a second and in addition to my hand over her lips, my other hand is under her chin. I tell her if she keeps trying to make noise, I will pull the trigger and she will never make noise again.
The faint yelping coming from her mouth stops, and I have a free hand now.

Description
There’s no more time for heroism. That’s why you don’t see the firefighters being interviewed after big fires. You never hear the cops’ story after the robbery. What you see is how it made other people lose their material items. It’s all about being a victim. It’s a competition to see who has suffered more. Who lost what and how.
They argue about who got hit more times as a child. It means they have more life experience, and therefore, they are smarter than you.
I’m sitting here in the break room trying to decide whether or not I should play the hero or the victim. Heroes always get more awards and backstage recognition. Victims get the pity donations and public recognition.
Then there’s always the third option: being a villain. You can get all the recognition, no awards, and all you have to do is be careful. That, and have an incredible defense attorney.
My boss, Georgiano Morts, comes through the door with a sandwich dripping mustard and some other condiment I can’t recognize. Disgusting pig, leaving a mess all over the place. “What are you still doing in here? Lunch break ended nine minutes ago.” I pull out my hero-destroyer.
The first victim is made and all the bystanders hear the evidence. My quick decision landed me on option number three, and that’s just fine. I was prepared to land on any of them. Just as long as they all knew my name. They could adore me, pity me, or fear me.
I went with the latter. That’s how I ended up where I am right now. Sandwiched between a heavyset fireman and a skeleton of a girl who weighs maybe 75 pounds.
The girl’s trying to scream with my hand cupped over her lips and the fireman has a gun to our heads. Keep in control, I tell myself. I know I have a victim-maker somewhere on me. I let the tiny girl scream for half a second and in addition to my hand over her lips, my other hand is under her chin. I tell her if she keeps trying to make noise, I will pull the trigger and she will never make noise again.
The faint yelping coming from her mouth stops, and I have a free hand now.