Red Shirt

I been in this weird-ass place for a couple days now. I was standing in line for the Pepsi machines--gawd, I hate Pepsi--and there was this stickler standing next to me in a red jumper. Looked shook up; I gave him a pull off my joint. I figured him for a downer, but he said he was just recovering from being downsized.

I didn't know exactly what that meant. He made it sound everyday, though, so I sucked off some smoke. It was my turn at the machines. I realized they were Pepsi. Gawd, I hate Pepsi. Couldn't the wankers spring for bloody equal opportunity soft drinks? Coke--I ain't had one since 1906, but I hear they're still good--or even the bloody ass-end conventional brands suck less than bloody Pepsi.

For some reason the other cats in line got to be staring at me. Gawd, I only hacked the bloody machine a few times. Besides, they could get all their bloody loose change back again, and all the sodas were free at least until someone came and picked them up again. I took a few. Caffiene is caffiene, right?

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