“I am God!”
      Antonio’s eyes scanned the living room for the remote. The game was starting in ten minutes, and he didn’t want to miss a moment of it. Money that he didn’t have was riding on its outcome.
      “This is the end of the world as you know it, peons!” barked the man on the newsreel. The shouting continued as Antonio lifted the cushions on his couch, finding only old candy wrappers and small change underneath. He grabbed a handful of the dust-covered coins before replacing the cushions. It occurred to him that the apartment could use a woman’s touch. Of course, he could always use it more.
      He concluded that the best tool for augmenting his search was a can of beer. The sounds of laughter and gunfire emanating from the television faded as he walked into the kitchen. It was a small room with lighting that hadn’t worked in a year, but Antonio found it sufficient for holding the essentials.
      Antonio opened the fridge (in truth, a repurposed mini-bar from his Dad’s days in hotel management, but he didn’t split hairs) with his own form of reverence. He spent a few moments simply staring at the various brands at his disposal with an appraiser’s eye. This was one area where he felt attention to detail was worthwhile.
      He settled on a set Three Floyds before strolling back into the living room. As he returned to the television, he rolled his eyes. Not only was the loudmouth onscreen still ranting about some “New Order”, but the mayor was cluttering the screen as well. Antonio remembered voting for him a year ago, and regretting it immediately as the two faced worm slapped a tax on cigarettes. Fortunately for Antonio, his anti-gambling efforts had been less fruitful.
      “Any last words, worm?”
      “Ugh. Politics.” said Antonio with his best world-weary groan. He returned to his hunt for the remote control.

4/25/2010
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