Eirik Gumeny - Exponential Apocalypse

Hi, this is room 218. Can I get a few extra pillows sent up?

Why? Were the pillows missing?

What? No. Id just like a few more.

Therere four on a bed, and it looks like you have two beds.

So?

Thats eight pillows.

So?

So youre alone. I saw you come in. Alone.

What the hell does that matter? You guys rationing out your pillows?

Im just saying that eight pillows is a lot of pillows. Especially for just one person.

Jesus, man, Ive got a sleeping disorder, alright? Its better for me if I sleep upright.

There is an armchair in every room.

What? Are you fucking serious?

Yes. Its the thing that looks like an armchair.

Dont get smart with me.

Youre making that exceedingly difficult, sir.

Look, you son of a bitch, just send up the damn pillows or Im talking to your manager and getting your ass fired.

Fine.

Thor hung up the phone and looked around the lobby.

Wheres Paulo?

On break, said his co-worker, Catrina.

He just took a break.

Well, now he took another one.

That doesnt seem right.

Just bring the pillows up yourself.

Its demeaning.

Its your job.

Its Paulos job.

And its your job to do his job when he doesnt.

How does that work?

Just fucking do it, Thor.

This is bullshit, he muttered as he walked out from behind the service desk.

Thor opened the door to the second floor linen closet and sighed. He grabbed three pillows and started down the hallway, stopping in front of room 218 before sighing again.

Thor raised his hand to knock, but thought better of it. Well, not really better.

Thor let two of the pillows fall to the ground and pulled open the pillowcase on the third. He held it up to his ass and farted mightily, pulling the pillowcase closed again as quickly as he could. He rolled the end up tight and repeated the ritual for the other two pillows.

Thor knocked on the door.

Your pillows, sir.

There had been twenty-two apocalypses to date. There were now four distinct variations of humanity roaming the earthsix, if you counted the undead. It had been suggested that there really should have been a new word to describe the end of everything forever, but most people had stopped noticing, much less caring, after the tally hit double digits. Not to mention the failure of forever in living up to its potential. The last apocalypse wasnt even considered a cataclysm by most major governments. It was just a Thursday.

Thor, for his part, still held out hope for Ragnarok, but, seeing as how his mortality stemmed directly from science disproving religion, this wasnt looking likely.

Dick didnt even tip me.

Why would he tip you?

Because I brought him pillows.

Thats not really difficult, dude.

OK, yeah, sure. But a little recognition would be nice.

Thor was still pretty pissed that God of Thunder didnt carry more weight on a resume.

To be fair, his lust for an actual, factual Armageddon wasnt so much due to any longing for Asgard as it was a bone-deep hatred for his job as a desk clerk at the Secaucus Holiday Inn. Catrina disliked the job at least as much as Thor did and, near as he could tell, she wasnt a fallen deity.

What time you off tonight? asked Thor.

Eleven.

Want to hit up the diner?

Sure.

The phone rang.

Hello, answered Catrina, Secaucus Holiday Inn.

Thor assumed the person on the other end of the phone was talking, but he had no real proof.

Yes, we have an employee named Paulo. He stepped out about twenty minutes ago.

Thor thought about what he might get at the diner later.

Youll have to be more specific. How exactly did he die? Hes just a porter. If hes a zombie hes still gotta finish his shift. Were non-discriminatory.

Eggs probably. Eggs were good.

To pieces, you say.

Fried, maybe. Or scrambled. Yeah. With bacon.

No, no next of kin. He moved up here from Princeton about a year ago.

No, wait, sausage. Yeah. Sausage.

Yeah, the robot thing. Everyone died violently.

Crap. Now Thor was hungry. And he still had another thirty minutes left on his shift.

Well, thanks for the info. Ill pass it along. Bye.

Catrina turned to Thor and said, Well, Paulos dead.

Yeah, I got that much.

Fucktard went to Jersey City.

Why the hell would he do that? Jersey City was taken by werewolves eight months ago.

Catrina shrugged, saying, He said he liked the Subway there better.

Its a full fucking moon, Catrina.

Maybe he didnt notice.

Its been full for the last three weeks.

Oh, right, cause of the

Yeah

Well, Paulo wasnt that bright.

What a way to go, though. Mauled to death for a chicken sandwich.

Ooh. Maybe a chicken sandwich.

Im not telling Mark.

Aw, come on. I had to tell Mark about the last two.

And youre going to keep telling him. At least until we hire a bellman with a sense of self-preservation anyway.

Catrina continued, You know Marks got that x-ray implant. I feel violated every time he looks at me.

Fine, said Thor. But Im telling him youre a racist.

The door to Marks office opened slightly.

Mark?

Thor.

The door to Marks office opened all the way. Thor walked in.

Paulos dead.

Dead dead or kinda dead?

Dead dead. Wolves got him.

He went to the Subway in Jersey City, didnt he? Now Im not going to get my sandwich.

Probably not, no. You want me to re-activate the Craigslist ad?

Nah, I never took it down. Im keeping a backlog of applicants.

Thats enterprising of you.

Yeah, well, the way weve been going through them it wont last long.

True.

The tiny office was quiet, except for the whir of Marks ocular implant. Thor was forced to concede that it was, indeed, a little unsettling. He took a step sideways, putting a chair between himself and Mark.

I can see through the chair, Thor.

Seriously?

Yep, said Mark, this things got

Hold up. Why are you looking at my junk?

I get bored, he said with a shrug. And, I mean, you were a god. I was curious.

Can can you stop? Its a little unnerving.

Yeah, no problem. Although, I gotta say, thats less than impressive.

Fuck you, man!

Ive got hydraulics in mine. You wouldnt believe

Dude, stop, please. I dont want to know.

Fine, OK. But Im beginning to see why science won.

Not cool, man.

Mark laughed, the faint, tinny sound of something like a modem backing the syllables.

Catrina and I are skipping out early, said Thor. You good with the guests?

Yeah, sure, weve got what, two?

Three. Some cheap-ass pillow fetishist came in a couple hours ago.

Alright, no problem.

Thanks.

Thor turned to walk out, but heard Marks eye refocusing again. Thor turned sideways and ran, closing the door to Marks office behind him.

I wonder what Jesus wang looks like, said Mark to himself quietly.

The phone on his desk rang. He answered it.

Hello?

Yeah, hi, this is room 218. Can I get a few more pillows sent up?

The diner ran out of pancakes shortly before Thor arrived. It always ran out of pancakes. All things considered, it was a pretty terrible diner. Thor wasnt sure why he kept going there. Well, other than convenience, laziness, and steel-reinforced walls.

The guy next to me got pancakes, said Thor. And he ordered after me. I think the waitress might be lying to me.

Give it a rest, Thor, said Catrina.