The break room TV played a broadcast featuring their leader, Rory Parker,
standing stoically as he defeated liberals and heretics. He always had his
right hand tucked in his suit pocket.
Onscreen, Parker stood at the city’s busiest intersection.
“Homos are people,” a liberal character said. “We deserve to be treated as
such.”
Parker kicked the man into a puddle.
“You’ll get what you deserve,” he roared. “And nothing more.”
Everyone in the break room cheered.
“God bless Rory Parker,” a coworker said.
“God bless him,” Luke echoed.
He finished his sandwich, tossed the trash, and was heading out when his
boss, Darryl Wilcox, approached.
“Luke,” he said. “There’s been a spill in Section H. Go clean it up.”
“I’ll get to it right away,” Luke replied.
He washed his hands in the bathroom, then headed toward Section H. He
didn’t like going to Section H. He’d only been twice before. Usually,
Roger was assigned to it until rumors of heresy kept him away.
Luke swiped his card at the door. A preacher stood on the other side.
“Good. Good,” the preacher said. “We need this cleaned up right away.”
He led Luke down a dim hallway. The grated metal floor creaked beneath
them.
“It was a large spill,” the preacher said at the supply closet. “Grab a
couple rolls of paper towels.”
Luke did. He smiled at the picture of Jesus on the Brawny wrapper. He