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The elevator glides down with the last of our office staff and the doors open and close at each floor. With each stop, more Haliburton lobbyists pack into the small space, each glowing with content from the weeks progress of destroying the third world for Bush's oil fortune.
The thought of rioting workers being herded, beaten and shot by the military consumes me as I imagine the violent scenes in my mind. Hey, I like to imagine middle easterners slaughtered for oil as much as the next guy, but the unions suck ass.....and they are right here in the US.
"Fuckin' wicked bastuds" I say outloud accidently. The other passengers seem to read my thoughts......see the exact same images as they look at me and nod in agreement. Each of us are enjoying our own mental movie of carnage and I cant help thinking about how very much we all owe Jeb.
The elevator doors open at the ground floor and the people spill out into the lobby.
Last edited by slang; 03-26-2004 at 10:46 PM.
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