I have found what the rest of my life will revolve around from here on out.
I need to be the operator of this machine. I see it going something like this: I apply for an entry level position at this company, perhaps sweeping up the remains of pianos or some such nonsense, and get myself into the good graces of the owner, and then when I'm thoroughly ingratiated there, I will tell the boss that I wouldn't mind locking up, you know? I'd grin a friendly grin and say something like, "hey Tom, I bet your kids miss you, why don't you surprise them and the Misses by going home early, and taking them out to The Sizzler?"
...at which point Tom would chuckle and toss a ring of keys to me and say something like, "You sure you can handle it? Just make sure you shut out the lights and turn off the shredder."
We'd both laugh and Tom would leave for a wonderful evening with his wife and kids, and that's when the hyjinx would begin. I'd start by stalking all the people who made fun of me in high school. I'd rig up a pulley system so I could slowly and painstakingly lower them into the shredder, followed immediately by the bill collectors who seem to always want to call me while I'm masturbating, it'd be somewhere around that point that I'd lose all interest in poetic vindication, and just start abducting random people off the street and tossing them in. Then I'd unceremoniously lower myself into the vat, much like the end of Terminator, and say goodbye to the cruel world that was so torturous to me.
I'd probably leave a note for Tom, telling him he was the only who ever put faith in me and that I'll see him in Hell.
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