The Gorging by Kirk Thompson Read Free Book Online

she always bought. Now time to check out the news.
    She sat there with her coffee mug in one hand and the other on the mouse, clicking away at the many stories that were already flooding the internet about Bob Varner’s broadcast this morning. It looked God-awful. She thought to herself how such a thing could happen. She was glad it was isolated to the southern part of the United States, but then she began to wonder how long that would last. How would this affect their current food supply? She had so many thoughts running through her mind about this, and she was nowhere near the root of the problem.
    

    Bobby and Pete stood outside of Mr. Masterson’s door. It was closed and they were both scared and debating over who would be the one to put their timid hand to the wooden panel and knock. They both felt like little children going to the principal’s office to be punished for not turning in their schoolwork on time. They have every right to feel this way. That’s how Mr. Masterson treats his best employees, because he feels like it instills discipline and makes a better worker. All the employees think he’s just full of shit and wished he’d have a heart attack and no one would be around to pound on his chest and bring him back to life. They didn’t really want this because they would all be out of a job, but there’s nothing wrong with wishing. Right? If Masterson killed over, his son certainly couldn’t handle the action. Masterson’s deadbeat son was incapable of holding down even the easiest job in Cheyenne, which was shoveling cow shit on the farms for state minimum wage. So Junior Masterson running the news station would never happen. So much for job security.
    “You knock.” Bobby pushed his hand against Pete’s chest, shoving him back a few inches.
    “No. You do it.” Pete repeated the gesture. Kids will be kids.
    “Just open the damn door.” Mr. Masterson yelled loud enough to sound as though the door had already been open the entire time.
    Pete and Bobby looked at each other and simultaneously cleared their throats. The sweat had already begun to bead on their foreheads and it was visible in Pete’s armpits. Bobby wore Irish Spring, so his pits were nice and dry, but he was sweating everywhere else though. He could feel it drip down the sides of his legs and soak into his socks. Pete grabbed the door handle and turned it, causing the door to creep open. They both knew they were going to be fired. They just knew it. Maybe a misspelling that made it to the teleprompter, or maybe one of them screwed up a story that made it to the internet news site. Somebody screwed up, and Masterson would tell them who it was as soon as they got their scared little asses in his office.
    “Good morning Mr. Masterson.” Pete said, his voice trembling. Bobby nodded the same, unable to speak. Mr. Masterson had a look on his face like someone pissed in his Wheaties.
    “You two hear about those mass livestock herds dying in the southeast?” said Mr. Masterson, as he held his coffee cup in his hand.
    “Yes sir,” Bobby said, thinking about his story idea right away. He had a feeling that Mr. Masterson was somehow breaking into his thoughts and stealing the idea before Bobby could ever bring it up. That must be how he always has the idea first. “I caught some off it on the radio this morning.”
    “That’s right. You heard it on the radio. Probably saw it on television, too.” Mr. Masterson’s voice grew louder and he was making it known how upset he is. “You know where you didn’t hear it?”
    “No,” said Pete.
    “I don’t know either, sir,” said Bobby. In truth, Bobby and Pete knew exactly what their boss was about to tell them. It would be another blow up session on the little guys. The boss showing the employees whose in charge and bringing them down to an even lower level. Making himself feel big and better than all those who worked underneath him. Making them feel like abused children ready for