I don't care if the agency sees this. I'm very bored and…
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I don't care if the agency sees this. I'm very bored and they finally sent me my laptop.
Deep in the boondocks of a small town in the Midwest stands an old observatory. An observatory that, until recently, the United States government had completely forgotten it owned. It was closed down sometime in the 1980s after it was deemed useless when it came to whatever the government's intentions with the cosmos were at the time. Anyways, that doesn't really matter.
The reason they put us in this joint last May wasn't for any astronomical reasons, but for the simple fact that they didn't feel like building a proper facility for us out here. Decided we needed to make the best of a moss-covered, asbestos-ridden building built in the 1960s. Whatever. I'm not surprised the government didn't feel like spending a little extra money. At least they had my equipment moved here from Nevada.
When I first started here, it was pretty alarming to hear that there wouldn't be any sleeping quarters for me or Barry, only a shared bathroom they built in the “storage wing”, a cold basement. The reason for the lack of bedding was the experimental “caffeine patches” that they issued us to keep us awake for days on end. I've run my own tests on them (on the agency's time), and they are most definitely not caffeine based, but shit they work good, so who really cares. Both me and Barry have felt fine the year we've been using them. My only complaint is that the adhesive on the little patch leaves a rash. I usually alternate my right and left forearm.
My coworker, the aforementioned “Barry”, had a lab on the lower level of the building. At some point in the forty odd years from when the observatory closed down to now, some drunk asshole drove his truck through the east wall. Left a big hole in the brick wall, and a now scrapped Toyota Tundra. On the outside of that hole, Barry set up a greenhouse, where he plants and collects samples of the local flora. Just on the inside of that hole is where, I think, a gift shop used to be. It's now full of test tubes holding local crops, and cow shit samples.
In my lab, the observation deck, I take in whatever our field guys deem weird, typically fauna, and try to figure out what makes it tick. Or if it ticks at all.
Earlier this week Randall, the senior field guy, brought in a single coconut from a local farmers market. Apparently the vendor had a “suspiciously large” pile of coconuts that he was “practically begging” people to buy, per Randall. He and the other two field guys claimed to hear scattered rhythmic thumpings coming from the pile. The rhythm at which the coconuts thumped in relation to one another would have certainly been worth studying, but given that I only have the one, my investigation is limited.
The field guys, Randall, Zach, and Bry,(at least that's what their respective name tapes say) do an okay job at finding the weird stuff I have been tasked with studying. However, they hardly ever get much more than a single sample, like a week old carcass, or in other instances a tuft of fur or a talon. I’ve explained to them countless times details I could use in the future, but they rarely deliver. It's no surprise at this point.
The observation deck has a ring of windows spanning the circumference of the large room. I took the coconut to a table at the side of the room overlooking the east. They had brought it to me quite late so I planned on cracking it open the next morning. It's thumping was actually pretty relaxing and I probably could have dozed off if it weren't for a few caffeine patches. Given the caffeine patches, the only reason I had planned on cracking it open the next morning was out of spite of being asked to do shit when I would have been able to sleep at my old job. Sometimes I'll just bum around and find myself cleaning stuff from 10 PM to 8AM. And the field guys haven't thought to bring me a new crossword puzzle book, so I've just been blabbering about random shit in my notes app. Like this.
And that.
And this.
And that.
Fuck I'm bored.
Anyways, the coconut. I inspected the husk for a few minutes. Given the warmth it emitted and the internal thumping, it felt like I was holding a squirrel or a kitten. I had set it down on a small rag to keep it from rolling, turning it so I could look at the three dark pours on it. I then left to sit on my recliner by the telescope for the rest of the night. Said recliner was actually taken off a curb in town by Randall and co.
At around 6:45 the next morning, I was cleaning an instrument of mine on the recliner when the sunrise through the window caught my eye. I stood up to go watch it for a minute and then looked down at the coconut on the towel. I picked it up, and I recall having to turn it toward me to get a look at the pours again. Looked the same as the night prior, still thumping in my hand. I set it back down.
I had become quite thirsty by then and decided to head downstairs to the common area me and Barry share in the lobby of the building. We set up a fridge and stove top behind a large rounded front desk. I snagged a protein pack from under the counter and a water bottle from the fridge. I then replaced it with one from a 40 pack on the ground. Barry never replenishes.
I took my sore excuse for a breakfast back up to my lab and tossed the protein pack on my desk. I took some notes on the husk of the coconut. It was coarse as any coconut I can recall feeling. I set it on a scale and weighed it out to 1224.74 grams. I headed down to ask Barry if that was average or not and he said it's hard to tell without knowing the age or species of the specific coconut. I also asked him why the field guys didn’t bring it up to him, an actual horticulturist, already knowing the answer. He was still working on those bioluminescent corn cobs from last month. “Whatever man.” is pretty much all I say to the guy anymore.
Once I was back at my desk upstairs, I reached for my protein pack, knocking over my water bottle onto the coconut in the process. I quickly stood up the bottle, and dabbed at the coconut with a towel for a bit. The added moisture revealed to me a small seam on the side of the coconut. It looked almost as if I could separate that section from the rest of the husk. I pried at it for a bit with my hand and eventually graduated to banging on it with a screw driver and the butt of a metal thermos. The seam didn’t separate any further than what it had been at when I first noticed it, just a small divot that ran a few inches down the side and then back up into itself, forming an oval.
For the sake of experimentation, I poured some more water over the coconut, causing another small seam to form on the other side of the husk, as well as two more small ones on the bottom. With as much strength as I could muster, which wasn’t much considering my occupation, the husk of the coconut would not break. I was able to shave off a bit of the husk, but that led me to nothing but a coconut with a bald spot. I eventually decided to leave the coconut in a tray of water for a few hours while I found something else to do. I think I cleaned some beakers.
After a few hours of bullshit and slacking, I returned to my lab, finding the coconut gone from the tray, and a breezy, shattered hole in the window in front of where it had been. My brain immediately blamed Barry for this. I had no real reason to blame the dude other than his shit work ethic and shittier tidiness.
I ran down to retrieve my coconut, as well as bitch out Barry for messing with my shit. However, I didn’t find Barry in his lab, or in the lobby, or the bathroom. I went out to check his greenhouse, but he wasn't there either. I poked my head outside the greenhouse zipper flap to find the guy dead on the ground just outside his canopy, skull caved in right below the shattered window. “Fuck.” was about all I could muster as I stood there staring at the body with a block of lead in my stomach.
After what felt like an hour of staring in shock, I radioed the field guys to let them know what happened. Not sure what these guys were up to before working this gig, but none of them seemed as perturbed as I was to see a caved in skull full of blood. Looked like a bowl of human soup at the top of a body.
Upon arrival, Bry and Zach loitered in the lobby while Randall stood with me outside. All he did was look down at Barry on the ground for a while, then look at the shattered glass by his body, then up at my shattered window.
“What fell?”, Randall asked.
I was squatting on the ground at this point, trying not to throw up, “The coconut you guys brought me… I think…”
He looked at me funny, “You're not sure?”
I half ass threw my hands up and said, “Well the coconut was right up there and now it's gone… so…”
Randal nodded, “Right.” He scratched his chin for a second and we started to hear some rustling coming from some shrubbery on the side of the building. Upon hearing this, Randall immediately pulled a pistol out from under his jacket, pointing it at the noise.
“Hey, you can't just kill it.”, I said, putting a hand on his arm, immediately retracting it when given a glare. “My bad.” Randall shook his head.
“I'll try and kill it conveniently, alright?”, he said insincerely. After a little more rustling in the bush the coconut, now bipedal and baring a single working right arm, slowly scooted out. There was a crack in it, presumably from the fall out the window, and its left arm hadn't yet fully protruded from the husk. In the few seconds it stood there still, I was able to observe the three pours facing us were vibrating rapidly. Randall then shot it, sending it back through the brush, shattering it against the brick of the building.
I flinched and yelped like a bitch, throwing my arms up to plug my ears.
He holstered his gun with a smile. “Been a minute.” Bry and Zach rushed outside at the sound of gun fire and Randall shook his head, holding his hand up to them dismissively. Randall then turned to me, “Alright well, me and the boys are gonna toss Barry quick.” He then pointed at the shattered coconut, “You still need that?”
By then I was standing there with my hands on my face, my eyes veering past my fingers in dismay, “Yah.”, I breathed out.
Randall nodded and I stood there while he directed Zack and Bry to carry my dead colleague to the back of their SUV. I watched Randall make some calls and they eventually drove off. After that I just sat on the grass for a while. A good, long while. Long enough for my caffeine patch to wear off. I laid my head back on the grass, debating my occupation, before I drifted into a light nap.
#entertainment
source
Deep in the boondocks of a small town in the Midwest stands an old observatory. An observatory that, until recently, the United States government had completely forgotten it owned. It was closed down sometime in the 1980s after it was deemed useless when it came to whatever the government's intentions with the cosmos were at the time. Anyways, that doesn't really matter.
The reason they put us in this joint last May wasn't for any astronomical reasons, but for the simple fact that they didn't feel like building a proper facility for us out here. Decided we needed to make the best of a moss-covered, asbestos-ridden building built in the 1960s. Whatever. I'm not surprised the government didn't feel like spending a little extra money. At least they had my equipment moved here from Nevada.
When I first started here, it was pretty alarming to hear that there wouldn't be any sleeping quarters for me or Barry, only a shared bathroom they built in the “storage wing”, a cold basement. The reason for the lack of bedding was the experimental “caffeine patches” that they issued us to keep us awake for days on end. I've run my own tests on them (on the agency's time), and they are most definitely not caffeine based, but shit they work good, so who really cares. Both me and Barry have felt fine the year we've been using them. My only complaint is that the adhesive on the little patch leaves a rash. I usually alternate my right and left forearm.
My coworker, the aforementioned “Barry”, had a lab on the lower level of the building. At some point in the forty odd years from when the observatory closed down to now, some drunk asshole drove his truck through the east wall. Left a big hole in the brick wall, and a now scrapped Toyota Tundra. On the outside of that hole, Barry set up a greenhouse, where he plants and collects samples of the local flora. Just on the inside of that hole is where, I think, a gift shop used to be. It's now full of test tubes holding local crops, and cow shit samples.
In my lab, the observation deck, I take in whatever our field guys deem weird, typically fauna, and try to figure out what makes it tick. Or if it ticks at all.
Earlier this week Randall, the senior field guy, brought in a single coconut from a local farmers market. Apparently the vendor had a “suspiciously large” pile of coconuts that he was “practically begging” people to buy, per Randall. He and the other two field guys claimed to hear scattered rhythmic thumpings coming from the pile. The rhythm at which the coconuts thumped in relation to one another would have certainly been worth studying, but given that I only have the one, my investigation is limited.
The field guys, Randall, Zach, and Bry,(at least that's what their respective name tapes say) do an okay job at finding the weird stuff I have been tasked with studying. However, they hardly ever get much more than a single sample, like a week old carcass, or in other instances a tuft of fur or a talon. I’ve explained to them countless times details I could use in the future, but they rarely deliver. It's no surprise at this point.
The observation deck has a ring of windows spanning the circumference of the large room. I took the coconut to a table at the side of the room overlooking the east. They had brought it to me quite late so I planned on cracking it open the next morning. It's thumping was actually pretty relaxing and I probably could have dozed off if it weren't for a few caffeine patches. Given the caffeine patches, the only reason I had planned on cracking it open the next morning was out of spite of being asked to do shit when I would have been able to sleep at my old job. Sometimes I'll just bum around and find myself cleaning stuff from 10 PM to 8AM. And the field guys haven't thought to bring me a new crossword puzzle book, so I've just been blabbering about random shit in my notes app. Like this.
And that.
And this.
And that.
Fuck I'm bored.
Anyways, the coconut. I inspected the husk for a few minutes. Given the warmth it emitted and the internal thumping, it felt like I was holding a squirrel or a kitten. I had set it down on a small rag to keep it from rolling, turning it so I could look at the three dark pours on it. I then left to sit on my recliner by the telescope for the rest of the night. Said recliner was actually taken off a curb in town by Randall and co.
At around 6:45 the next morning, I was cleaning an instrument of mine on the recliner when the sunrise through the window caught my eye. I stood up to go watch it for a minute and then looked down at the coconut on the towel. I picked it up, and I recall having to turn it toward me to get a look at the pours again. Looked the same as the night prior, still thumping in my hand. I set it back down.
I had become quite thirsty by then and decided to head downstairs to the common area me and Barry share in the lobby of the building. We set up a fridge and stove top behind a large rounded front desk. I snagged a protein pack from under the counter and a water bottle from the fridge. I then replaced it with one from a 40 pack on the ground. Barry never replenishes.
I took my sore excuse for a breakfast back up to my lab and tossed the protein pack on my desk. I took some notes on the husk of the coconut. It was coarse as any coconut I can recall feeling. I set it on a scale and weighed it out to 1224.74 grams. I headed down to ask Barry if that was average or not and he said it's hard to tell without knowing the age or species of the specific coconut. I also asked him why the field guys didn’t bring it up to him, an actual horticulturist, already knowing the answer. He was still working on those bioluminescent corn cobs from last month. “Whatever man.” is pretty much all I say to the guy anymore.
Once I was back at my desk upstairs, I reached for my protein pack, knocking over my water bottle onto the coconut in the process. I quickly stood up the bottle, and dabbed at the coconut with a towel for a bit. The added moisture revealed to me a small seam on the side of the coconut. It looked almost as if I could separate that section from the rest of the husk. I pried at it for a bit with my hand and eventually graduated to banging on it with a screw driver and the butt of a metal thermos. The seam didn’t separate any further than what it had been at when I first noticed it, just a small divot that ran a few inches down the side and then back up into itself, forming an oval.
For the sake of experimentation, I poured some more water over the coconut, causing another small seam to form on the other side of the husk, as well as two more small ones on the bottom. With as much strength as I could muster, which wasn’t much considering my occupation, the husk of the coconut would not break. I was able to shave off a bit of the husk, but that led me to nothing but a coconut with a bald spot. I eventually decided to leave the coconut in a tray of water for a few hours while I found something else to do. I think I cleaned some beakers.
After a few hours of bullshit and slacking, I returned to my lab, finding the coconut gone from the tray, and a breezy, shattered hole in the window in front of where it had been. My brain immediately blamed Barry for this. I had no real reason to blame the dude other than his shit work ethic and shittier tidiness.
I ran down to retrieve my coconut, as well as bitch out Barry for messing with my shit. However, I didn’t find Barry in his lab, or in the lobby, or the bathroom. I went out to check his greenhouse, but he wasn't there either. I poked my head outside the greenhouse zipper flap to find the guy dead on the ground just outside his canopy, skull caved in right below the shattered window. “Fuck.” was about all I could muster as I stood there staring at the body with a block of lead in my stomach.
After what felt like an hour of staring in shock, I radioed the field guys to let them know what happened. Not sure what these guys were up to before working this gig, but none of them seemed as perturbed as I was to see a caved in skull full of blood. Looked like a bowl of human soup at the top of a body.
Upon arrival, Bry and Zach loitered in the lobby while Randall stood with me outside. All he did was look down at Barry on the ground for a while, then look at the shattered glass by his body, then up at my shattered window.
“What fell?”, Randall asked.
I was squatting on the ground at this point, trying not to throw up, “The coconut you guys brought me… I think…”
He looked at me funny, “You're not sure?”
I half ass threw my hands up and said, “Well the coconut was right up there and now it's gone… so…”
Randal nodded, “Right.” He scratched his chin for a second and we started to hear some rustling coming from some shrubbery on the side of the building. Upon hearing this, Randall immediately pulled a pistol out from under his jacket, pointing it at the noise.
“Hey, you can't just kill it.”, I said, putting a hand on his arm, immediately retracting it when given a glare. “My bad.” Randall shook his head.
“I'll try and kill it conveniently, alright?”, he said insincerely. After a little more rustling in the bush the coconut, now bipedal and baring a single working right arm, slowly scooted out. There was a crack in it, presumably from the fall out the window, and its left arm hadn't yet fully protruded from the husk. In the few seconds it stood there still, I was able to observe the three pours facing us were vibrating rapidly. Randall then shot it, sending it back through the brush, shattering it against the brick of the building.
I flinched and yelped like a bitch, throwing my arms up to plug my ears.
He holstered his gun with a smile. “Been a minute.” Bry and Zach rushed outside at the sound of gun fire and Randall shook his head, holding his hand up to them dismissively. Randall then turned to me, “Alright well, me and the boys are gonna toss Barry quick.” He then pointed at the shattered coconut, “You still need that?”
By then I was standing there with my hands on my face, my eyes veering past my fingers in dismay, “Yah.”, I breathed out.
Randall nodded and I stood there while he directed Zack and Bry to carry my dead colleague to the back of their SUV. I watched Randall make some calls and they eventually drove off. After that I just sat on the grass for a while. A good, long while. Long enough for my caffeine patch to wear off. I laid my head back on the grass, debating my occupation, before I drifted into a light nap.
#entertainment
source
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