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The look on Billy’s face was pure surprise and relief. In fact, Wilford was even surprised they didn’t lose their jobs. But Wilford knew how to play his cards, and when to play them. He’d been sitting on the tape from that night out in the woods for weeks now, waiting for the right opportunity to use it. Defending a stolen news van, and tens of thousands of dollars of equipment was the right moment. The outrage quickly shifted from a van being stolen by thugs, to a van being stolen by employees.
Although technically Billy was salary, and therefore never truly off the clock, and was always in possession of the keys, so it wasn’t really stealing at all.
And anyway, that tape was pure gold. It took some convincing to get it queued up, but only five seconds to convince the world’s worst station master of its worth. Wilford knew it would work. Billy hadn’t been so sure, even after they were let out of the office with a warning to sign equipment out next time.
“How did you know that would work?” Billy asked once they were in the elevator back down to the ground floor.
Wilford flashed him the fakest of fake smiles. “I told you. I’m fucking awesome.”
Billy did not see convinced, but Wilford didn’t care.
“This story’s gonna be huge. Anybody who works on it will be able to go wherever they want,” Wilford told him. “Starting with away from here.”
Billy still seemed unconvinced, but Wilford left him to figure everything out for himself and returned to his desk
“I heard you got jacked. What happened?” Kevin asked before Wilford could even sit down.
Wilford paused just long enough to make sure Kevin understood how stupid he sounded. “We got jacked.”
“Oh.” It took him a second to apparently realise that his question had not been answered. “Yeah, but. I mean. How bad was it?”
“I’ll live.”
“Man, what kind of reporter are you, that you can’t share the details?” Kevin asked.
“What? And give you ideas?” Wilford watched Kevin twist himself in knots, trying to find yet another way to ask what happened without repeating himself. He thought he might have a shot at the record until they were both suddenly interrupted.
“You slimy son of a bitch!” someone hissed at him loudly enough to make him jump.
Wilford turned around to see another young reporter stepping into the shared cubicle. Like him, she’d been shoved aside and her talents squandered. Also like him, she’d planned on doing something about it. Nichola invaded every inch of Wilford’s space, pushing him uncomfortably up against his desk.
“Can I help you?” Wilford asked, not even having to pretend to be shocked at the sudden aggression. He’d forgotten that Nichola hadn’t just woken up one day and decided to hate everyone. She’d always hated everyone from the day she was born.
“I’ve been trying to convince him to run that story for months. How did you walk in there and have him just give it to you?” Nichola demanded.
“I got stabbed today. The pitty angle works great,” Wilford said.
Nichola moved her hand like she wished she had something else to stab him with. Or like she was trying to resist pulling something stabby out of her inventory.
“That was supposed to be mine,” she said through her teeth.
Wilford wondered if she did have something sharp in her inventory. A broadsword probably, knowing her. She seemed the sort to carry one of those around.
“You must know an awful lot about it, then,” he said. “Probably more than I do.”
“No. You don’t get to steal my story, and then steal my work on it as well,” Nichola said. Again, it seemed like she really wanted to stab him with something. Wilford tried to put a bit of distance between them, but his desk was very much in the way and not letting him move very far.
“No, I didn’t know it was yours,” Wilford lied. “You must have worked hard on it. Months, you say? And you’re sure you don’t want to work on the story with me?”
“Oh, you’ve got some nerve, pal.”
She moved like she was pulling something from her inventory. Wilford reacted quickly, guarding his sides against further abuse, but he didn’t act correctly. Rather than grabbing something, Nichola surprised him and slugged him in the jaw instead. A stunned silence hung over the area as Nichola stomped away, leaving Wilford holding his face like an idiot.
“I think she likes you,” Kevin said.
“Shut the fuck up,” Wilford said, turning back around so he didn’t have to look at Kevin.
Although technically Billy was salary, and therefore never truly off the clock, and was always in possession of the keys, so it wasn’t really stealing at all.
And anyway, that tape was pure gold. It took some convincing to get it queued up, but only five seconds to convince the world’s worst station master of its worth. Wilford knew it would work. Billy hadn’t been so sure, even after they were let out of the office with a warning to sign equipment out next time.
“How did you know that would work?” Billy asked once they were in the elevator back down to the ground floor.
Wilford flashed him the fakest of fake smiles. “I told you. I’m fucking awesome.”
Billy did not see convinced, but Wilford didn’t care.
“This story’s gonna be huge. Anybody who works on it will be able to go wherever they want,” Wilford told him. “Starting with away from here.”
Billy still seemed unconvinced, but Wilford left him to figure everything out for himself and returned to his desk
“I heard you got jacked. What happened?” Kevin asked before Wilford could even sit down.
Wilford paused just long enough to make sure Kevin understood how stupid he sounded. “We got jacked.”
“Oh.” It took him a second to apparently realise that his question had not been answered. “Yeah, but. I mean. How bad was it?”
“I’ll live.”
“Man, what kind of reporter are you, that you can’t share the details?” Kevin asked.
“What? And give you ideas?” Wilford watched Kevin twist himself in knots, trying to find yet another way to ask what happened without repeating himself. He thought he might have a shot at the record until they were both suddenly interrupted.
“You slimy son of a bitch!” someone hissed at him loudly enough to make him jump.
Wilford turned around to see another young reporter stepping into the shared cubicle. Like him, she’d been shoved aside and her talents squandered. Also like him, she’d planned on doing something about it. Nichola invaded every inch of Wilford’s space, pushing him uncomfortably up against his desk.
“Can I help you?” Wilford asked, not even having to pretend to be shocked at the sudden aggression. He’d forgotten that Nichola hadn’t just woken up one day and decided to hate everyone. She’d always hated everyone from the day she was born.
“I’ve been trying to convince him to run that story for months. How did you walk in there and have him just give it to you?” Nichola demanded.
“I got stabbed today. The pitty angle works great,” Wilford said.
Nichola moved her hand like she wished she had something else to stab him with. Or like she was trying to resist pulling something stabby out of her inventory.
“That was supposed to be mine,” she said through her teeth.
Wilford wondered if she did have something sharp in her inventory. A broadsword probably, knowing her. She seemed the sort to carry one of those around.
“You must know an awful lot about it, then,” he said. “Probably more than I do.”
“No. You don’t get to steal my story, and then steal my work on it as well,” Nichola said. Again, it seemed like she really wanted to stab him with something. Wilford tried to put a bit of distance between them, but his desk was very much in the way and not letting him move very far.
“No, I didn’t know it was yours,” Wilford lied. “You must have worked hard on it. Months, you say? And you’re sure you don’t want to work on the story with me?”
“Oh, you’ve got some nerve, pal.”
She moved like she was pulling something from her inventory. Wilford reacted quickly, guarding his sides against further abuse, but he didn’t act correctly. Rather than grabbing something, Nichola surprised him and slugged him in the jaw instead. A stunned silence hung over the area as Nichola stomped away, leaving Wilford holding his face like an idiot.
“I think she likes you,” Kevin said.
“Shut the fuck up,” Wilford said, turning back around so he didn’t have to look at Kevin.
