Nuka Cola
He'd read how the Nuka Cola Corporation treated workers in its African factories, so he decided to ...
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Nuka Cola
He'd read how the Nuka Cola Corporation treated workers in its African factories, so he decided to lay waste to the cola dispensing machine.
He turned to see if anybody watched him.
He was alone.
He snatched up a heavy rock from a decorative planter nearby and took a wild swing at the upper nameplate on the machine. He thought the plastic covering would shatter and the fluorescent light tubes would break into bits. He hoped a few sparks would fly out and a buzzing noise would signal an end to the Nuka machine.
Instead, the plexiglass sprang back, the rock in his hand seemed to come to life and the sheer force of the rebound caused him to release the rock and it hit himself in the forehead.
Moments later, still foggy from the pain and holding his head he picked himself up off the ground.
He turned to see if anybody watched him.
He was alone.
"Take that bitch," a voice said.
He looked at the soda machine.
"You don't mess with the Nuka Cola Corporation." The voice came directly from the machine.
"Where are you?"
"Sitting here in Nuka Headquarters watching your punk ass get smashed in the face with a rock," the voice said smugly.
"You have a camera?"
"A camera, a network, a hell of a mechanical design team, and Nuka cola machines in millions and millions of locations all around the world. You're never alone ya little shit head."
"How do you get away with that?"
The voice laughed. "You should feel fortunate I've allowed you to get away with bleeding on my sidewalk this long. The cops have been notified of your vandalism and my screen says they're about ninety seconds away from tossing your ugly little bloody ass in the slammer."
He turned to see if anybody watched him.
He was alone.
But he felt as if the Nuka Cola Corporation was being completely honest with him ... and he ran.
"See ya soon, ya pathetic freak," yelled the machine after him.
Then the Nuka Cola Corporation chuckled.
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