Content by Sam Clemens

Author:Sam Clemens [Clemens, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-04T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty-One

The following Wednesday, Magnus summoned him to the break room. There was consternation on his face.

“Look at this,” he said, pointing to the vending machine.

Tim looked at it.

“Do you see the word ‘Chevy’ on there anywhere?” Magnus asked.

Tim said that he did not.

“Then why the fuck,” Magnus said in a seething southern drawl, “can’t it perform the simple task for which it was designed?”

“Still having problems?” Tim said.

“Problems doesn’t begin to describe it. Damn thing jams every other time I try to use it.”

“Magnus—”

“I know,” Magnus cut him off. “I know what you’re going to say. Just stop using the machine. But we’re way past that, Tim.”

Tim looked at the big, backlit Pepsi sign adorning the front of the machine. It looked in working order, but clearly wasn’t.

Magnus continued. “The nearest corner store is three blocks walk. What’s a guy to do if he’s craving a cold one in the middle of the day?”

“Why don’t you just bring in a twelve-pack and store it here?”

Magnus shook his head. “You know how precious fridge space is.”

Tim nodded. The rules were clear: bag lunches only, one per person, in a standard brown paper four-pound bag. No exceptions.

“And maintenance was no help?”

Magnus scoffed. “Listen, Tim: when a man needs something handled, it’s most advisable to take matters into his own hands. It’s really the only way. Now, I need you to help me.”

“Help you what? Kick the machine?”

“Already did that. I need you to tip it forward so I can dislodge the can from the chute. It’s how these things work.”

Tim took a step back and examined the hulking apparatus. “We can’t be tipping these things.”

“It’s totally safe. I just need it tipped a little. There’s like nine YouTube videos on this.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, “and then my fingers slip and it falls on your arm. Not worth it, man.”

“Tim.” Magnus stepped closer. “I need this Pepsi.”

“Sorry dude.”

“Tim—”

“I gotta write content,” Timothy Dent said. He put on a regretful face and began walking away.

“Not cool!” Magnus yelled at him. “Not cool, man!” Tim heard him kick the machine again, then let out an agonizing yelp, either at the pain or the futility of it all.

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