There are often people in the lab late at night. This is probably because we live in State College and there is little else to do. However on the weekends there is just one guy. Creepy Serial Killer Guy. He is always around late at night. When I sit at my desk I can hear him making weird high pitched groans (reminiscent of Sloth Fratelli from The Goonies). He is a very large guy and his accent indicates he's probably from Eastern Europe somewhere. He looks like he heads the State College Russian Mafia. I also often hear him singing along to songs in a different language, which sounds Ogreish. I assume the songs are about blood.
I have to walk by his office to get to my computer and whenever I do he slowly turns his head and there is a brief and scary moment of eye contact. I could avoid this creepy eye contact if I did not look inward to his office. But it is late at night, the hallway is dimly lit, his office is very well lit, and like a moth drawn to a lightbulb my eyes turn to meet his murderous gaze. Our eyes lock for only a moment then he swiftly returns to his lab top screen. My skin tingles as I head to this very computer, wondering "will tonight be my last." This exact sequence of events occurs without fail. So far he has not killed me but this brings little comfort. He is clearly a careful planner and not given to passion. Sometimes I hear his chair creek backward, indicating he is leaving his desk. Knowing the end is near I quickly look around the room for something that can serve as a weapon. Then I hear a bell sound. The elevator door down the hallway is opening. Some one else has entered the lab and I am safe. He only kills in secret.
That I have been saved more than once by that elevator bell is quite lucky as there is nothing that remotely resembles a weapon near my desk. There is a ping pong ball and three stacks of post it notes. There are also several books on polymers. Given time I might be able to create a weapon from these. But the post it notes do not belong to me and some of the other people in the lab are rather possessive. I have decided it is better to accept my death when it comes. I have considered writing a note for help on a post it and using a polymer book for a weight. I would throw the note out the window and it would reach a passerby below. But the chances that anyone would be walking by at the right moment are astronomically small. And if they were they might just steal the book. And if they did I would have no moral high ground. For I would have just stole a post it.
And at any rate, I am only here for the Summer. He may not get around to murdering me before I leave.
2 comments:
This post is good, funny stuff. But unfortunately your intern fact-checker missed something because I think you mean Sloth Fratelli who made those noises.
Chunk was the fat kid. That deformed noisy chained up guy was one of the Fratelli brothers.
...just sayin'
Corrected!! Any more complaints?
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