Breaking the Mold

Larry was not a happy man. Here he was trying to coast on by, mind his own business when that fat bitch of museum curator Stacy decided to call a meeting. He already didn’t like her at the best of times and wasn’t dumb enough to not know that any “sales meetings” just meant more work.

He wondered why he, a janitor, had to attend these damn things when he can go back to doing more important things like hiding out in the backrooms doing fuck-all. After all, he just cleaned the toilets, why the fuck does he need to know about how sales are going? Dumb bitch, no wonder why there wasn’t enough money for the company Christmas party.

Regardless, he was right. As he sat in a meeting room with broken AC, he listened to Stacy speak in that high-pitched voice that seemed to drone on and on. He didn’t pay attention to any of it but he could still remember her going on about how kids do not care about Assyrian relics. ‘No shit lady, why the hell would kids get excited over broken pots and crude drawings?’ Then she shifted to how there would be more budget cuts because of yadda yadda and bladdy blah. He didn’t care as long as he got his union guaranteed $22/hr. Finally, she got to what he already expected, more work.

In hopes of bringing in more kids, she is bringing in an entirely new exhibit of ancient Chinese culture. She excitedly talked on and on about paintings, weaponry, and even how she was bringing in 12 Terracotta Warriors. He had to resist the urge to sigh knowing that he and Jim would be the ones moving all this shit. Each of those “warriors” probably weighed a couple of hundred pounds at least. She finished off talking about some incredibly valuable gem some emperor had. Was supposed to grant eternal life or something but Larry didn’t quite believe that since, well, the dude is dead. For all he cared, it was just some rock people wasted millions on. In any case, “The Emperor’s Jewel” was going to be the lightest thing, so there’s that.

3 Days Later…

2 out-of-shaped middle-aged men grunted in effort as they pushed and pulled on a pallet cart loaded down with several stone warriors. This laborious task was made all the harder now that one of the wheels buckled under the sheer weight of the statues. As both men were blaming each other an unnoticed pair of eyes watched them from his stony prison.


‘What's this, more relics?’ Regis tried to get a better view but when you can’t move your head or even your eyes, it is a task much easier said than done. ‘Looks old, Mesopotamian? No, doesn’t seem right. Looks eastern though…I wonder…'

He tried to activate his ancient power and focused intensely on the statues before him. He willed himself to swap places with the unknown statues before him but felt nothing. If he could sigh he would.

‘Figured it wouldn’t be that easy. Not like I could’ve done that even outside my prison.’ He lamented.

By now the 2 janitors had managed to fix the buckled wheel and faded out of sight leaving Regis alone as he had been the last few thousand years.