Keep An Eye On Your Buttons

OLD OLD OLD OLD OLD

You are entirely mistaken. No, I'm not crazy, and no, I'm not a scumbag.

Maybe you just don't understand...

I hated my job.

Keeping this in mind, how can you possibly blame me for what I did? It's not right! I hated my job!

Maybe "IP Specialist" sounds cool to you, but I assure you that it's not. Most of my day I spent locked in the special "IP Guy" closet. It's dark in there, full of spiders, and there's no room to sit down. Trust me, the life of an IP guy isn't very glamorous.

When I was needed, they opened the closet and directed me to the computer mainfraim room, where I would fix whatever problem they had. My job was to search for a wire that some idiot had disconnected and to plug it back in.

And let me tell you, the mainframe room is not much of an improvement over the IP Guy closet. The only difference is theres a lot of blue light, wiring, and high tech computer stuff everywhere.

See? I had no choice but to cut loose and start a life of crime! I'm the victim here!

..Based on your expression, I can tell that you're not quite convinced...

Well, if you're too thick to see things my way, then you should at least know that I wasn't the one who did any of the actual theivery. That was my partner, Jack. He's the real criminal. He's the one you want. Seriously folks, have you ever met a person named Jack who wasn't inherantly evil? I think not!

Jack was the assistant secretary of the assistant secretary's secretary. His job was almost as bad as mine; all he did was fill filing cabinets with paperwork which would later be taken out and shredded.

The IP Guy storage closet is in the same hallway as Jack's desk. I passed him, said "hi," and opened the closet to find that it was filled with coats.

Beady-eyed Jack grinned at me, just as he always did when he had bad news to deliver. I think he got a kick out of being the bearer of bad news. "IP Guy!" he said, addressing me, "While you were out, they replaced your office with a coat closet. Sorry, but you're going to have to sit on the floor now."

At this point, I realized that my life had ultimately added up to nil. I needed something, anything, some sort of sign of guidance, or I would have had a breakdown. That's when I saw the big, shiny metal buttons on one of the bigwig's coats glimmering at me like a star. I knew what I had to do.

I tore all the buttons from the coats.

Don't look at me like that! I was going to leave them there in the closet, so that the bigwigs could sew them back on! It was Jack's idea to steal them.

And so began our ten year careers as the notorious button theives of Bigfoot county. We had everything down to a science. We'd crash an upper class party or social event. Anything with a dress code. I'd hobnob with people to distract them, Jack would move in with his knife and surgically remove the buttons from their coats. We'd sell the stolen buttons on the street for a hefty profit.

It was the perfect life.

Suddenly, I was living in a mansion on Island Lake Court, I had a swimming pool full of money, and the women loved me.

After each hiest I returned to my mansion, and Jack would return to whatever cesspool of human filth that he lived in. Before each hiest, we'd meet and discuss the plan.

After nine years, we were all over the news. Citizens were warned to stay inside, to keep a watch out for suspicious characters, to keep their eyes on their buttons at all times. I knew people were wising up, that we should move our base of operations or quit the game entirely while we were ahead, but Jack just wouldn't have any of that!

"We're unstoppable!" he said, "Just one more hiest for retirement, that's it!" he said.

And I always agreed.

Everything was going according to plan on our last hiest, but Jack hit a snag while stealing one of the mayor of town's buttons. The middle button of his vest seemed to be attached to a wire. Jack, being the idiot that he was, cut through it, and in doing so triggered an alarm.

The mayor was wearing an alarm under his vest. Tricky politician.

I tried to run, but he got me. Jack disappeared into the crowd. And here we are now, in your interrigation room. Did I let you know everything you need to know?

I'll repeat myself. I'm innocent. As innocent as a butterfly. And no jury in America will convict me. Furthermore, look over there!"

***

Two men ran from the interrigation room, one was the captured IP guy-turned-criminal, the other was Jack.

Hours earlier, Jack had snuck in through their unlocked door during the interrigation and stolen all the buttons from the police coats while his partner distracted them with his gripping tale.

The police tried to persue them, but without their buttons their jackets flapped in the wind, creating too much drag for any of them to keep up.

This was as close as the law had ever come to locking up the nefarious duo. To this day, the great button theives of Bigfoot county remain on the loose. They could be anywhere, and anybody could be their next target. Even you.

Always keep an eye on your buttons.

Author's Note

Buttons are what hold society together!

Used to write one of these every night, when I became so tired that my thoughts started to break down into mush.

Reviews

[windmill]

Did I ever mention how hilarious this and/or you are (is?)?

Brilliant.





My sister agrees.

[bunny nabber]

you tell with a voice that always believes in your tale, it is that way because you say, and its strong cos.
your topics are heavy but dressed in buttons and your charcters are freespirited but downtrodden by life
your second identity is a figment of imagination but living in a mansion shows us who's really in lala land
the end of the interogation is done f*****g beautifully your humor always shines so bright and saves everything from drearyness in the end

and your notes always always make stuff better.
one a night is a good idea.

[Type0]

I really like this: the sad story of the IP Guy, the bizarre yet understandable crime, the familiar structure of the loyal comrade!

It's the oddity of the button thefts that I really like though. There's just something wonderfully appealing about it!

(My only real criticism is that you've got the I and E the wrong way round in heist.)