Your Notebook of Evil

In your Notebook of Evil, do you have a sketch of your house, where you live, your apartment?  Nobody ever shows them to me.  You can use colors, pencil or marker, ink perhaps, for your sketch.  It is good to be a self taught artist.  I learnt that at lunch recently.  But now I am off the subway and heading into McCullough’s office.  I do not have time to scan and paste the drawing of The Office.  It does not matter.  Nobody goes there anymore.  It is so empty, McCullough wanders the floor in his fetish suit.

I am used to it now, but you might not be used to it, but I wear a hood when I go to work.  I do not put it on in the subway.  Silly.  I would have to take my mask off to put on a leather fetish hood.  It is not as easy as it looks.  You only see them after they are put on.  You cannot take your mask off on the subway.  Nobody cares otherwise.  As long as you wear a mask over your rabies, nobody cares.  You can have a soppy wet mask, with foamy drool stringing down over damp spots on your shirt and tie, and nobody would care in Toronto.  Even with your gurgling, nothing.  Your best gurgles?  People move away.  They know the cameras do not work, so you get sprayed with paint, maybe.  Anything with some range.  You can see splashes of spray paint on the subway cars.  Some of that stuff is flammable, too.  (Foaming oven cleaner does not have enough range.)

So, I have a feeling of relief when I get to put on my fetish hood at work.  Nobody works anymore on The First Floor.  That is what McCullough calls it.  There have been renovations since Covid started.  The elevator buttons no longer correspond to reality.  You have to press the seventh floor and the door open button at the same time to get routed to McCullough’s floor.  Even then, he won’t let you in, unless he approves you after checking you on the camera.

You can put your fetish hood on in the elevator, actually.  I just do it first thing.  I don’t bother with pressing seven and door open at the same time.  Not until I get my hood on.  I like a comfortable fit.  Everything zipped open. I do not have any spikes on my fetish hood.  They may look good, but they turn your head into a lightning rod.  There is a lot of bad wiring in office buildings, and you could end up cooked inside your suit.  It is not a problem in Toronto so much now.  But if you hear people using the term ‘Apollo One Mission’, they are Human Resources using coded language.

People used to get away from the elevator when the doors opened and they saw me putting on my fetish hood.   After Pride started, they would just pretend to not see me.  But they would still get on the elevator at least.  When you are putting on your fetish hood, you really get a good sniff of leather.  Makes you really appreciate chewing tobacco.  On the other hand, there was that guy that got on the elevator and, we think, he pressed the seven – door open sequence.  McCullough was not at work when that happened.  The guy was trapped on the elevator until McCullough came back to work the next morning.  McCullough found him.  The guy was riding up and down the building, screaming.  Let me out, that sort of stuff.  Help me, I am trapped, blah blah blah.   Could not even hold his bowels after continuously being hauled up and dropped down, across air pressure thresholds.  The oxygen gets low in the upper parts of these elevator shafts.  Blue lips fell asleep mid scream somewhere around the anoxia threshold.  Kept him alive, I guess.  Had his own poo for a pillow.  McCullough opens the door on this horror, then closes it quick.  He has a phone app for elevator control. McCullough sent him down to the food court.  The mall cops reported a naked man, covered in poo, running towards Union Station.  There was a stampede, but that never made the news.  How could it?  A tree fell and there was no journalist to hear it.

Anyway, I am waiting for McCullough to come into the map chamber.  He wants to do some constructive dismissal on one of the little people.  McCullough’s fetish hood does have a lot of spikes on it.  That is how you can tell us apart at meetings.  If everybody wears hoods in the office, you can keep the thermostat down, too.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.  I care. 

2 Replies to “Your Notebook of Evil”

  1. Evil is on the not-speak list, unless it refers to an object of the 10 Minute Hate. We have always been at war with EastAsia.

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