Frank Iero and the Meaning of Life

Chapter Ten - Office Space

I woke up god knows however many hours later with zero sense of time or coordination; my head felt as if it were lit on fire, kind of like a hangover but somehow ten times worse. I slowly opened my eyes and met with an incredibly bright light; I struggled to adjust to it as my blurry world came into focus. Then, just as I regained my senses, some bitch with huge plastic tits and a doofy-ass grin scared the ever-living shit right out of me with her ungodly, cheery voice.

"Wakey wakey, sunshine!" she said.

I screamed and slapped her across the face. She went stumbling backwards, but her creepy grin still stayed plastered on her face.

"Vigorous today, aren't we?" she said.

I immediately felt my face to see if my mask was still on.

It was. Thank god.

I then glanced around the room, and saw that stacks of mystery medicines and liquids surrounded me. When I looked to my right, I saw a frightening array of sharp tools lined on the table next to me that looked more like they were designed for torture than healing.

"Where the hell am I?" I asked as I panted heavily.

"Please try to remain calm," she said. "It appears that you had a bit too high of a dosage of Raylenol."

My stomach churned, and I felt like I was going to barf at any moment. "What the hell is that?" I stammered. "Where am I? Where are my friends?"

The freaky bitch poured a large amount of mystery liquid into a spoon and made her way over to me.

"You're currently on the eighth floor," she said. "This floor is for re-education, health evaluations, and workers who are...injured on the job."

She leaned in close and reached her hand to my mask. "Now," she said, "say 'ah'!"

I slapped her hand away from my mask. "No way," I said. "You ain't gonna lay a finger on me!"

She cocked her head, and her terrifying smile grew wider. "Now, then," she said with a deeper voice. "Non-compliance will result in either your immediate termination or re-education. You don't want to go to human resources, do you?"

I looked over at a big, metal door that stood outside the window of the room I was in; it was labeled HR Department, and the only sounds I could hear coming from it was a shrill scream and an electric shock.

Fuck.

I gulped, and my knees shook. "Erm, that's very sweet of you," I said, "but I'm feeling much better now! I'm just a lightweight, really!"

She didn't say anything, and tried to peel off my mask again.

"Wait!" I shouted. "I have...uh, mask hair. Yeah. It really doesn't look good under here. It's like a total rat's nest. Also, I smell...really bad. Like, really bad."

She lifted up my mask just enough to expose my mouth, and she shoved the spoon into it without any waring. The nasty-tasting substance smelled like battery acid and tasted like cat puke; I felt about ready to spew all over the place the second I tasted it. Upon instinct, I spat the disgusting purple substance all over her stupid, grinning face. Weirdly enough, her expression remained completely unchanged, and she merely wiped away all the residue I had launched onto her.

"Looks like we're going to have to try something else," she said in a high-pitched, squealy voice.

She walked over to the table full of sharp objects and picked up the biggest fucking syringe I had ever seen in my entire life; she filled it up with a bloody-colored substance from a can with that same damn smiling logo from hours ago on it. My entire body went numb upon seeing the needle; it was big enough to be a goddamn dildo.