This story comes from my friends Colin and Ryne, and from me. They are responsible for the high quality of the tale. I am responsible for the low quality of the execution. Anyway, Storytime.
Six hours later, Devonte Best was done with the interrogation at the police station. “Man, as soon as he went for the race thing, I knew I had to end it,” said Officer Reggie Pierce, when Devonte tried to thank him for his work. “If you need help with this, you make sure you give me a call, aiight?”
Six hours later, Devonte Best was done with the interrogation at the police station. “Man, as soon as he went for the race thing, I knew I had to end it,” said Officer Reggie Pierce, when Devonte tried to thank him for his work. “If you need help with this, you make sure you give me a call, aiight?”
During the very friendly interrogation by the officers, Devonte Best learned that the company he worked for had been duped by Mr. Alexandrov. He had pretended that his knowledge of Korean was actually Cantonese, and promised that he was getting a great deal on the electrical components needed to make the AlphaBoxxes work. He even convinced the higher-ups that bibimbap was from Canton.
In reality, he arranged a couple of preview boxes for show, and one massive shipment of extremely pure North Korean crystal meth, which he aimed to steal. To add insult to injury, the Crystal Meth that had come into the company’s possession would later be found to be in violation of several patents held by the Monsanto Corporation.
At his first meeting with his boss the next day, Devonte asked whether his insurance would cover all of the therapy he assumed he would need. “Insurance? At a startup? Nope,” she said. “This isn’t even technically workman’s comp. Also, you’re fired. You never should have let Nick go with you yesterday.”
“What?”
“You’re fired. I can’t have you moping around the office while I try to save my company. Good luck out there.”
And so it was, that the near-shooting which the San Francisco Chronicle had brushed off the first time as just another officer use of a Taser in Oakland, suddenly became plastered on Gawker’s front page. It was Devonte Best’s good luck that his mother and father got all their news from the Chicago Tribune and the News Hour with Jim Lehrer, because the Sun-Times actually ran a blurb of the story, which had briefly lit a fire under the internet. Fortunately for him, another stand-your-ground shooting in Florida the next day pushed all talk of his encounter away from anywhere his parents might see it.
With venture capitalists jumping ship left and right, (Sim Najibullah, a Pakistani oligarch, told them "Pity he was with the meth, pot is hot right now, I could sell you to my friends.") Boxxr was forced to declare bankruptcy and turn over all research to Monsanto.
Devonte turned back to Google and Apple, but his contacts told him that they wouldn’t be hiring a fresh crop of college grads again until the following summer.
That night, he got to talk it over with Jim. “What the everloving fuck are we going to do?”
“Well, we don’t owe next month’s rent for 24 more days. I guess we’ve got that long to figure it out?”
“My mom told me if I fuck up out here, she’ll make me pay the balance of my student loans, that’ll be my punishment for moving a plane ride away.”
“Shit. Student loans. At least we won’t owe those for six months.”
“You got any ideas?”
“I’ve been looking around, but my summer internships are tainted by what just happened, nobody trusts anyone who’s ever worked for them anymore. At least you can code.”
“Dude. You think with trauma like that I can just go back into the same type of workplace? I don’t think so.”
“Really? That sucks so much, man. You’re gonna let me know when you wanna talk it out, right?”
“Ya, but not now. Now I just want to sleep and forget.”
The only thing Devonte Best dreamed of that night was Nick Alexandrov holding the gun up to the heads of his family.
No comments:
Post a Comment