FAT FUCK SECURITY GUARD SAVES THE DAY

My name for this security guard shows that I think the world of him.

Fat Fuck patrols the building that houses the North York Central Library, retail outlets, offices, and a food court.  People use the food court when the library closes.  Fat Fuck climaxes when he orders library people out of the food court when the food court is closing.

No one aspires to be a security guard.  People aspire to be police officers and become security guards when, for some reason, they cannot be police officers.

Why can’t Fat Fuck be a police officer?  Is he too fat?  Police departments have rigorous physical tests that applicants must pass.  Is he too white?  Police departments also have racial quotas — although they would never admit it.

Fat Fuck will go out of his way to look for crimes against humanity.  What crimes against humanity?  Besides being at a table in a closed food court,  Fat Fuck hunts down people who have their computers and cell phones plugged into food-court outlets.  According to Fat Fuck, using the plugs is against food-court rules.  Fat Fuck is the only security guard who enforces this rule.  The other security guards do not seem to care, and have walked by people with their devices plugged in.

The other day a student plugged her cell phone into a food-court plug.  She was at a table near the plug, but nothing linked her, or anyone, to the cell phone plugged into the wall.

It was about an about an hour before Fat Fuck rolled by.  Fat Fuck erupted!

“Whose phone is this?” he shouted.  “Whose phone is this?  Whoever it is better unplug it right NOW!”  And then shouting even louder, “THEY BETTER UNPLUG IT RIGHT NOW!  RIGHT NOW, I SAY, RIGHT NOW!”

Fat Fuck’s theatrics made the food court walls and floor think that they were experiencing an earthquake.  The poor, fear-frozen student did not know what to do.  She sat shaking for a bit before she suddenly she ran to the outlet to unplug her phone, but she had difficulty doing so because she was trembling.  All the while Fat Fuck glared down at her.

She finally unplugged her phone and fled to her table.  Fat Fuck rolled off into the sunset satisfied that he had made the world a better place.

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About Gary Johnston

I am an imaginary number -- a symbol used to count and measure. As Senior Imaginary Number at Einstein Equations Incorporated, I facilitate the calculation of the impossible.

Posted on November 30, 2014, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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