Chereads / Herogenation / Chapter 12 - Love Is Dead & Buried Pt.2

Chapter 12 - Love Is Dead & Buried Pt.2

On Tuesday morning, Borislav was lost beyond the clouds, holding Nomia's lean and soft hands as they flew towards heaven. He knew what would come next into his dream; the winged Flabby that was about to puke all over them. As it happened he expected the dream to be over, to open his eyes and start his new day. His brains had other plans. As Nomia's hand slipped away from Borislav's, trying to wipe the puke off of her, a sudden stream of water hit her head and body, splashing on Borislav's face as well, clearing up both of their visions. Two honkings were heard from behind Nomia, as the sound of a motor roared. She turned, her wet clothes espousing her perfect body as she ran away, ignoring Borislav's frozen hand, that was left forever hanging. "What's up, babe?" a recognizable voice asked. He realized that the voice, honking, and motor sounds were those of the douche and his douche-mobile. "Bye-bye loser!" the douche shouted as Borislav, as Nomia jumped into his car, glancing back regretlessly.

He watched Bonnie & Clyde shrink into the clouds. Frozen. Then a giant's hand squeezed his body and grabbed him, making him face towards the sky. Was it god? No, it wasn't. It was a blobfish offering him: "I can drown the dog if you want to sleep on the bed." He folded in two as he rose from the kingdom of dreams, seeing next to him Blobby's face towering the couch. "What are you doing?" blabbered Borislav, seriously creeped out. "I'm waking you up for the mailing." replied his new boss, firmly standing in place. "You'll need this and my phone." He added, stepping aside to show a mailman's satchel next to him, then throwing him a new generation cellphone. Borislav's reflexes hadn't been completely dead and he managed to catch it in flight. He wasn't done yet with the questions, though. "How did you get in?" he asked, as Blobby walked towards the exit. Looking back to the young man, blobby replied; "The door wasn't locked."

Borislav didn't know whether that was a lie or a fact, with his half-mindedness it was possible he hadn't locked the door yesterday, although he was convinced that he did. He didn't think of it much further as Blobby slammed the apartment door behind him. The only thing that he thought to verify before getting his breakfast was whether or not Flabby was still alive. He pushed a great sigh of relief when in the bedroom, he saw the canine's body well pushed into the bed as a long saliva string running from his mouth was ruining the bedsheets. Heading to the kitchen for breakfast, Borislav contemplated the cellphone he had just been thrown. He turned it on, but then realized he hadn't caught the password for it. He tried "1111", "1234", "4321" before the phone locked itself for 10 minutes, leaving him the time to finish his routine and head outside, earlier than he usually did.

Standing in front of the neighbor's door, Borislav had little will to go and knock. Somehow, his shyness had taken over again. After this morning's scene, he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of this fish once again. He took the risk to have the phone locked for an additional 30 minutes as he entered what he thought was bound to be the pin code; " 8 1 0 8 ". It worked. Maybe Detective Azurfin's capacities weren't so low after all, or maybe he was just extremely lucky. First falling onto a wallpaper depicting a young curvy woman in a bikini on the beach, Borislav tried navigating to the GPS app where the client's addresses should be registered.

As he walked out the building he realized his steps were being taken into account, which greatly helped him to find his way through the city. The job was simple, head to the location displayed on the map, find the corresponding mail in the bag, and slide it either in the mailbox or under the door. The mailman moved strategically, starting at the farthest place from the FCP and finishing the deliveries at the closest. He arrived to his official workplace 10 minutes late, yet nobody really minded it. Nobody said anything apart "hello" to him as he entered, except one particular individual; Lignjoslav.

"What are you carrying in there?" said the man standing by Mary and Sarla behind the counter, looking at Borislav's old-school satchel. "I would say your mom. But everyone knows I'd need three helicopters to carry her around, so the joke wouldn't work." Borislav wished he had said. Instead he let it go, walking by without uterring a sound. The Janitor shook his head in disapproval at Borislav letting himself being teased. As he started working, Borislav realized that the Janitor was right yesterday. He was being a Gomea male. No Shimga mindset was to be found in Borislav's chiseled head, only fear and submissiveness. A total White Knight.

In the waiting time following orders, Borislav would once again hear the two devils on his shoulders debating with one another. The subject of the day was; "Could a Gomea such as Borislav become a Shimga?". First the devils, who had invented themselves names since then, "Pessi" and "Posi" respectively, had to define what a Gomea and a Shimga exactly were. The agreed upon definitions were the following:

"Gomea Male.

>a man who chooses not to have a powerful or important role in a social or professional situation

>'While the Phala male wants to dominate and the Etab male just wants to get by, the Gomea male has either opted out or, if he used to try, given up.' "

" Shimga Male.

>A man who by his mere presence manages to be a the top of the socio-seductionary hierarchy simply by being himself and not being too outgoing.

>' While the Phala male wants to dominate and the Etab male just wants to get by, the Shimga male has everything given to him on a plate and laughs at them for trying so hard.' "

Pessi's thesis was that Borislav had no chances of ever reaching the Shimga status, while Posi argued that he had chances, all he needed to do was simply to not give up everytime a problem came his way. Pessi interpreted Borislav's challenges as signs that he should stop trying, whereas Posi thought of them as obstacles Borislav needed to overcome to prove he deserved the joys of life. The debate, at the start intellectually engaging and consistent, soon spiraled into insults and toxicity as Pessi tried to insinuate that Posi had a mental disability. Their gibberish hurt Borislav's ears as he was trying to get through the day, eventually acting as intermediate of the debate and trying to get them to stop fighting. "Stop" Borislav whispered, checking that no car passenger ahead was staring at him.

"I will not stop until I've proven this little man wrong!" Posi shouted. "You can't since I'm the truth-knower" Pessi replied confidently. "You'll never settle the debate this way..." Borislav sighed, as Pessi rubbed their chin, coming up with a solution; "I know another way.". "What other way is that?" Posi asked in a bitter voice, "Practice." Pessi continued, moving their finger up to communicate the genius of their idea. "Go on." Posi demanded, receiving the detailed plan immediately; "If Borislav tries to act Shimga and ignores the *clear* signs that he shouldn't try, and fails, then it means that I am right. If he succeeds, then I will be proven wrong."

Posi nodded silently, satisfied with the proposal. An agreement had been reached. Only, a person *heavily* concerned hadn't been consulted yet, that is Borislav. Both of the devils stared at his face, awaiting for his input. "Will you people stop bothering me if I try your stupid thing?" he asked, receiving a "Maybe" chanted in unison by Pessi and Possi. "Alright then." he concluded. Now he just had to figure out a way to act Shimga. Perhaps he would find the answer in the staff lounge?

At the first break he met up with Edfone Jack, asking his advice on the matter. Ed took on a particularly joyful expression as he had been proven wrong about Bo's lack of will. "Here's what I think..." the Janitor began, leaning closer to Borislav's attentive ears. "You need to follow my advice from yesterday. Become the night. Become ruthless. Next time that bald..." he stopped, feeling the entrance of "that bald..." into the lounge. Lignjoslav glanced at them snobfully as he went towards what was left of the vending machine. It had been completely destroyed by Borislav, and awaiting its replacement, the FCP decided to simply put a bunch of water bottles on a table next to it, with an ashtray to collect payments.

As he stared at Lignjoslav, Borislav was appalled. Not only because this monster had taken a water bottle in his pocket without dropping any coin, but also because he had *taken* coins from the ashtray to slide them in his other pocket. Even more criminally, the bald twig glanced at Borislav as he walked out the room, winking. "Did you- you just see what he did?" Bo asked Ed, who had been looking at nothing except his colleague's ghastly face. "What did he do?" Ed asked, looking back but seeing nothing. "He took a water bottle. Without paying. Then stole the money from the pot." Bo explained, making Ed lean back and higher his eyebrows in admiration, before finishing the narrative; "Then he winked at me."

"What an asshole," Ed admitted, prompting a "Ye." from Borislav before he had even finished his sentence with: "Total Shimga behavior." Bo was caught off guard. He had been boiling with hatred and here Edfone was calling this evil man a "Shimga". But Edfone was right. Lignjoslav did act like a Shimga male. "Next time this bald...man tries to bully you, you need to show you're not an innocent prey." Ed picked up his speech. "How?" Borislav asked, eager to learn. "It's simple. Just be an asshole too. Act like an asshole, speak like an asshole." Ed finished.

This godsent wisdom seemed to be perfectly in line with what Borislav had learned listening to online experts about attractive behaviors. Yet hearing it from Ed, somehow made it feel even more real. Borislav went back to work reinvigorated, feeling strangely confident. His disobedience of social norms didn't make him a freak. It made him a badass. The Socio-Seductionary hierarchy is not based on any made-up modern concept of civilization, no. It's based on the natural setting. Back when humans lived in caves nobody cared about politeness. To attract the homogenous blob of femalehood one simply had to yell the hardest and beat up all competitors to death. It was still true to this day. Borislav accepted his animal status; he was a tiger made to feel like a kitten, but now he saw himself in the mirror. He knew what he could do now, he could be going on a rampage through the jungle, jumping all over the world asserting his dominance. That was what he was. A bloodthirsty tiger. Now it was time for him to roar.

Just not in front of clients. He didn't plan on seducing them, after all. He acted like a kitten until finally his duty was served, and he could head back to his tiger nest. In an epic slow-paced tiger stride ( on two legs ), Borislav passed by the exit where Mary, Sarla, and Lignjoslav were chain-smoking. Lignjoslav's stupid face made Bo's brain heat up in resentment. He gave the unloved competitor a deathly stare, ready to pull out the year's hottest diss track and beating him up in an old-fashioned fistfight. "Come on Lignjoslav! Say something! I'll destroy you!" he thought to himself, having built up so much hatred he *wanted* Lignjoslav to act like an asshole.

However, the one to pick up on Borislav's strange stare and stride was not Lignjoslav, but the gentle Mary. "Are you alright?" she asked in a soft voice. There was no aggressive intent behind her question. Only sincere and heartfelt concern. But that didn't matter, Borislav was too far gone. All those images of tigers roaming in distant forests, their smooth hair being brushed elegantly by the sun rays as they would catch prey and devour it... All those flashbacks of the cavemen beating themselves to death over harem ownerships...they had mentally conditioned him to smother the kitten inside of him.

Only the Tiger could come out and answer. "I don't know. But I'm doing way better than your grandmother." Borislav uttered as he smiled, feeling so much dopamine overtaking his brain. He had done it, he had done the shimga line. The pride inside him had burst out. But it didn't last long. The tigers roaming, the neanderthals fighting, they were almost immediately gone. All there was in front of him then, was Mary's angelic face turning red as she broke down in tears, dropping her blazed cigarette a mere half-inch away from her shoes.

She cried so loudly that no one from the clients, to the staff behind the counter and in the kitchen, to Shattyk Liwei, and certainly to the Janitor, who was blankly staring outside, hadn't taken note of it. They all stared. And so did Sarla and Lignjoslav, who were trying to console Mary. They all stared. They all stared at the tiger outside. Borislav felt it. Posi reappeared on his shoulder, urging him to say "Sorry.", trying to convince him there was a way out. But Posi had lost all credibility, Pessi was proven right. What was Borislav to do when faced with this unimaginably disastrous situation? The exact same thing a kitten would do if finding itself next to a wolf; run. Run away from life's problems. Run away until one is back to his ridiculously ruined apartment building, hiding himself with a fat dog between his four walls.

After he stormed in the apartment, heavily breathing, he dropped to the floor, leaning against the door. It was as if he turned his back to the outside world, and was cared a Blobby would push the door back open. He stayed there until evening came. Flabby sat in front of him, simply looking at his strange slave before falling asleep.