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  ...presents...                   Accessory
                                                         by Orion

                      >>> a cDc publication.......1994 <<<
                        -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
  ____       _     ____       _       ____       _     ____       _       ____
 |____digital_media____digital_culture____digital_media____digital_culture____|

     So here I am.

     I got off work early for once, and rather than go home, (my roomies are
sure to be there, the phone is still fucked, I have no books to read, Moria has
gotten so tedious as to be truly annoying...) I go to Scott's.  I figure I'll
use his computer for a bit, see if I can't get some stuff caught up, and maybe
even talk to him.

     So, I get there... don't see his car, or Derrick's.  Damn.  But then,
wait, his door is open.  A quick glance around the parking lot and I find his
AND Derrick's vehicles.  Oh well, I decide to go in anyhow.  I'm doing a good
job lately of being nice to people I don't particularly like.  So, I walk up to
the door.

     "Hi!  Come on in!"

     Something is wrong with this picture.  Scott is never this friendly.

     "What are you doing?  Work go OK?"

     I nod.  "Yeah.  What are you doing?"

     "Drinking strawberry daiquiris and beer and making tacos.  I'm drunk."
 
     "Oh."

     At this point Derek comes in and proceeds to tell Scott about their new
neighbor, from Western Africa.  Derek notices me as an afterthought and says
hello.  I politely say hello and even offer an anecdote that is complimentary
to what he had just been saying.

     I could give details, but that's not the point.  Derrick eventually goes
out (drunk) with liquor to give to people at his place of employment (Wendy's).
As he puts on his denim jacket, I notice that his .38 is in his belt.

     "Whee." I think.  "A drunk violently-inclined almost-redneck is heading
out to his place of business in his car with a gun."

     I peer at Scott.  He peers back, but is too drunk himself to worry.  We
sit, and I am forced to endure _thirtysomething_, when I go into the computer
room and say that I am gonna call up the net.  He says ok.

     So I sit and look about, MUD for a few, but can't really get anything
done.  I'm tired and not creative and all I really wanted to do was talk to
somebody about how stupid my week had been.

     So I telecommunicate.  Derrick comes home in a bit, complaining cause the
phone was tied up.  I disconnect as I know he is about to pick the phone up.
He does, calling his friend Pat.

     I go in and sit down.  Derrick comes back in, saying that John (Manager at
Wendy's) has set up Terry (Asst. Manager at Wendy's) because $200 is missing
from a drawer that John had closed out and only Terry had a key to... possibly.
Most likely, all that had happened was the excess had already been put in the
safe, but he wouldn't put a setup past "the bastard."  I sit quietly.

     Derrick contemplates inviting the Wendy's crew over.  The phone rings.
Derrick answers.  He comes back in after a hushed convo.

     "Fucking bastard.  They can't find the money.  John took it so Terry would
get fired.  I know it.  I'm going over there if he doesn't call back in 15
minutes."

     I sit quietly.

     Scott looks up.  "Are you sure that its missing?"
 
     Yes, John is on his way there now."

     Derrick goes into the bedroom and comes back out.  He has an oily cloth.
He takes his gun and unloads the chamber.

     *click* *click* *click *click* *click* the five bullets fall.

     I sit quietly.

     "I'm going to go tell that bastard just how I feel.  He'll probably fire
me.  But he better not do anything more than that."

     He wipes his gun with the oily cloth and drains his beer.

     I sit quietly.

     "If he even so much as touches me, I'll kill him.  I'll fill him full of
lead.  I'm going to give him the screaming at he deserves."

     I should note that Derrick and John got into a fist-fight over the
Presidential election outcome.

     I sit quietly.

     "But I won't go to jail for it."

     *click* he slides a bullet into the chamber.

     Scott says, "Oh?"

     "I'll splatter my brains all over the place first."

     "Oh."

     *click* *click* *click*

     "Boy, I would love to see the look on his face when I pull out my gun.
The shock.  Then the back of his fat head splattering all over the wall."

     *click*

     I sit quietly.

     Derrick gets up and goes into his room.  Soon the sound of loud music
shakes the walls.

     I look at Scott.  "Guns are evil, ya know."

     Scott nods.  "I am doing ideally what I think I should.  But it is very
odd to have my whacked ideals put to the test."

     "Yep.  I feel like I should do something, but instead I'm taking a prime
directive approach to it.  I don't know what to do.  The scary thing is Scott,
I find myself not caring what happens tonight."

     "I know.  Legally, we won't be accomplices to murder, will we?  He said
'if' right?  That's a condition beyond our control."
 
     "If he kills John tonight, we're accomplices.  We both know he's capable."

     Derrick comes out of the room, wearing his jacket.  "Goodbye."

     Derrick leaves.

     I sit quietly.

     Scott gets up, leaves, and comes back wearing a jacket and shoes.  "I
think I'm going to go be a passive observer to a murder."

     "Oh.  You want company?"

     "No."

     "Ok.  Well.  I'll see you."

     "Yeah."

     Scott left the house.  I left the house and went home.
 _______  __________________________________________________________________
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  (' ')  |            Save yourself!  Go outside!  DO SOMETHING!            |
   (U)   |==================================================================|
  .ooM   |Copyright (c) 1994 cDc communications and Orion.                  |
\_______/|All Rights Reserved.                               08/01/1994-#276|

