I'm Really Only Here For The Coffee
�m here for the coffee!" Jim bellowed. His eyes darted about
the diner earnestly, searching for the warm, black brew that gave him
strength. Surprisingly, only two of the diner�s patrons eyed him with
disgust. It must have been too early to expect anymore.
He sat down at a stool by the counter, and...
His nose picked it up first.
The smell wafted in on the air currents of the Gods, hitting Jim, first in the nostrils, then moving up into his sinuses, where he really got it.
"Coffee..." he said out loud, just loud enough for the two men sitting next to him to hear. The one on the right mumbled something about death, and went back to eating his Super-Sized Grease Burger. Jim snorted.
"You can shovel that grease into your face all you like, but it still won�t save your soul. There�s only one thing that will."
He stood, moving away from the stool just one second before the man slashed with his fist, hitting only empty air as Jim headed towards the back of the diner.
He stuck his head in the freezer.
"Coffee?"
He ran back to counter, moving around behind it, and ducking past the cashier, who screamed an obscenity about Jim�s mother. Jim heard it, but did not seem to notice. He was searching for the one nectar that could give him a new lease on life.
He ran into the kitchen, darting his eyes again, searching for it... There!
Sitting on the counter, a whole bowl of the stuff...
The coffee... the pure bean... unspoilt, undiluted... Pure Coffee.
He dug his hand into the bowl, grabbing a fistful of coffee beans.
He shoveled them into his mouth greedily, savouring that first taste, and then the rush of adrenaline as the caffeine flowed into his system. His eyes bulged.
"OOooohhh... Oh man...." he moaned, as he reeled backwards into the large metal shelf behind him, knocking it over.
He smashed to the floor, and lay there only momentarily, for he had found one last unchewed bean in his mouth, and he sucked it back eagerly.
He stood, feeling it rush at him. His old tolerance for it was back, and he grabbed another fistful of beans. Stuffing them into his mouth, he chewed, and grabbed another handful. He forced that handful into his mouth as well, and his cheeks bulged as they tried in vain to make room for the masses of coffee beans in Jim�s mouth.
The chinese cook came in from the back storage room, and saw Jim gorging himself on pure coffee.
"Hey you! Get out of here! You go!"
It sounded to the normal listener as though the cook could barely speak english, but Jim didn�t notice.
"I come only for the coffee!" he screamed, pushing the cook back, and grabbing the entire bowl of beans, he rushed out.
Now he stood in the dining area, and, just as he swallowed about three hundred beans, the cook and the cashier charged him, both at the same time.
He looked up. No time to think, only time to rely on the solutions the coffee will offer you. He jumped, grabbing the light fixture with his free hand.
Swinging, he threw himself onto the counter, and pushed another mouthful of beans into his gaping maw of a mouth. He swallowed without chewing, and the beans gave him strength.
"I am Zorro, Queen of the Amazon!!" he screamed. Two people eating burgers looked at him like he was high. And he was.
A police officer walked in, and saw the charging Jim. His eyes went wide, and his hand went for his gun.
"Not today, copper boy! I shall not be denyed!" he pushed past the officer, who stared after him as the went out the door and down the street.
All was quiet for about three seconds, and then the officer looked at the cook.
"What the hell was that, Hing?"
"I don�t know! One of them crazy caffeine heads from the office! Come to steal my coffee beans again!"
"What is the world coming too, these days?" said the officer. "Did you see that nut-bag, he nearly killed me! Or got himself killed!"
"One day, he going to OD on that junk, and that will be it for him!" Hing said with disgust.
im sat in his apartment, naked from the waist-up. Waist down, he
wore only a pair of jeans.
He grabbed the thick rubber hospital band, and tied it around his arm, at the elbow. His fingers tapped his forearm, slapping until the vein popped up.
His other hand, his right, found the syringe. It was still warm, full with the black liquid inside. He hovered the needle point above the vein, searching for the right spot.
Jim was an expert at this. His arm was tracked with the dark, black spots, the signs of earlier injections. He had learned what spots were good to shoot, and what spots were not.
He found his spot, and pressed the needle against his arm, tentatively... waiting...
Now.
He pushed it in, feeling the initial sting, and then the waiting anticipation inside his brain, for him to push the plunger downwards.
He pushed it, slowly at first, and then quicker. He could feel the warm, black coffee working it�s way into his veins. He untied the elastic quickly, allowing the blood and coffee to move more freely.
Oh... how very sweet...
He fell back against the floor, nearly hitting his head on the nearby wall.
Everything went black, and he pushed his head above the ocean, the ocean of coffee...
"And it�s all for me..." he thought.
A dolphin swam by, it�s skin was black like the coffee in his veins, and he said hello...
"I�m drowning..." his head went under the ocean... once... twice... three times....
Three beats of his heart in less than a second. He convulsed on the floor of his apartment. Not wildly, sick and random, but in one, constant shake. And then...
Flatline.
