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Photo/Nina Taranenko

Tin Man’s Slippery Slope by Eliyana Abraham

“Sir, could you direct me to the oil?”

“Oh yeah, it’s down this way, follow me.”

“Thank you. You are such a help.”

“Yeah it’s no problem, it’s just my job.”

“You are doing it well.”

“Oh, ha-ha, thanks…well here you are, and don’t forget that all the donuts down in aisle seven are fifty-percent off.”

“Thank you, I will not forget!”

“Yeah, yeah…ha…have a nice day, then.”

“Wait, sir!”

“Yes?”

“This oil is the color of yellow.”

“Yeah, er—it’s just vegetable oil.”

“Vegetable oil?”

“Yea—”

“Sir! Vegetable oil will disrupt my entire system! You must have something else.”

“Well, I think we have some coconut oil in the back—”

“Coconut oil?!”

“Uh yeah, it’s organic if that’s what you—”

“Coconut oil will cause my gears to grind!”

“Your gears?”

“I must oil my gears with the proper oil!”

“I’m sorry, Sir, I don’t think I can help you. I can get my manager if you’d like…”

“I do not need to speak to another useless human being! Oh dear, the button…please sir, there is a button between my shoulder blades. Push it! Oh, we are running out of time…”

“Really, I think I should just get my supervisor—”

“Push it! Zero! One! Zero! Zero! One…”

“Er—what!?”

“Zero! One! One! One! Zero! One!”

“What the hell?”

“Shutting down…five…four…three…”

“Sir! Sir! Are you good?”

The man before the clerk clattered to the ground, and the shock of the fall reverberated through his body like a bell.

“Oh my god…I guess I ought to go get my manager.”

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