Tales of the Admins

[Garrett Jax]

"Who turned off the coffee machine?" Garrett Jax yelled angrily, his voice echoing back and forth along the walls of the cavernous Temple. He inserted the coffee grounds, filled up the pot with Zoner tears and poured the sweet water into the machine just like he was supposed to.

Nothing.

He checked the power switch. It was on. The power cord was plugged in too. It should be brewing.

Garrett was getting frustrated and angry. "For the love of JihadJoe," he screamed. "Why isn't this machine working?"

Garrett tapped a few buttons on a nearby monitor, bringing up a visual schematic of the Temple. The monitor flashed yellow warning lights in numerous places indicating that power was cut off, or severely reduced, in many areas. Auxiliary power kicked in, but that was only temporary. For some reason, the main generators that powered the Temple were failing and they needed to be fixed...immediately.

Garrett grumbled. The generators were located at the deepest, darkest section of the Temple, the Core. He entertained the thought of sending one of the Moderators down there, but he quickly dismissed it. A Mod might be able to get a brief spark of power, but his best chance was to find a Dev. Developers were the best at fixing failed generators.

Fortunately, the Devs were not too far. Garrett grabbed a flashlight and a donut and made his way to the section of the Temple where the Admins temporarily housed the Devs. Normally, Devs were forbidden from entering the Temple, but with the next update coming out, the Admins decided it was best to keep them close at hand.

As he neared the Devs' workspace, he was relieved to see that this section of the Temple still received power, at least partially. The lights were out, but the computer terminals were still operating. Garrett could hear the clinking of iron as several developers moved their chained hands feverishly across bolted down keyboards. Somewhere, in the darkness, he could hear a whip crack, followed by a sharp cry of pain and the quickened pace of keystrokes.

The nearest Dev caught sight of Garrett and immediately jumped to his feet, knocking over his bedpan, spilling its contents all over the floor. Garrett covered his nose from the stench.

"Why aren't you working?" Garrett demanded.

The Dev cowed. "Please sir," he stammered. "I...I'm hungry. May I please have a scrap of food to eat?"

Garrett smiled. "Of course you can," he said cheerfully. He pulled out the donut and flashed it in front of the dev. "How long has it been since you've eaten anything?"

The Dev stared at the donut with longing eyes. He licked his dry lips in eagerness. "It's been two weeks sir. Please, I'll do anything for something to eat."

Garrett waved the donut back and forth. The Dev's eyes locked onto the donut like a Cannonball missile, tracking it with an uncanny faithfulness.

"Excellent," Garrett said. "You want the donut, and I want a favor."

The Dev's attention drew back to Garrett. His eyes narrowed. "What kind of favor?"

"I need you to go down to the Core and restart the generators."

The Dev's eyes widened. "Hell no!" he snapped. "You can keep your filthy donut." With that, he picked up his bedpan and sat back down at his terminal, punching out code.

Dismayed, Garrett scowled back at the Dev. He couldn't really blame the guy. Nobody wanted to go down to the Core. He supposed he could physically drag the Dev down there, but that kind of thing had been done before. A Dev was dragged down there, against his will. Before he got there, though, he activated a coded kill switch within himself and died right there on the Temple floor. Stinking Devs.

With no options left, Garrett tossed the donut into the Dev's bedpan and headed down to the Core himself. He hoped that wasn't nom nom nom sounds he was hearing behind him.

Approaching the Core, Garrett couldn't help but notice how quiet it was. Normally, with the generators working, you could scarcely hear yourself think, but now, the noise was down to a bare hum. He hoped he had the skills necessary to bring the generators back up to optimum levels. For the sake of his coffee, he was going to give it his best shot.

As he breathed, he realized the air down in the Core was much heavier than normal. It was widely believed that the air here was toxic to mortals. It wouldn't kill them, just poison their minds somehow. He had known perfectly well adjusted people come down here, only to come back with their minds poisoned, twisted for whatever reason. Many times, just a brief visit was all it would take for a weak minded individual to succumb to the taint that pervaded these halls. Strangely enough, whenever someone visited down here, they always returned, many times, never to leave again. The longer they stayed, the angrier they became. Some would find it within themselves to leave this unhappy place, but they would almost always return, angrier than ever before. Garrett shivered. It was downright spooky.

The Admins, long ago, discovered a way to tap into this anger. The rage from these people supplied power to the entire Temple, including Garrett's coffee machine. Many times, Garrett enjoyed his hot cup of coffee, giving silent thanks to the power source that made it all possible...Disco's bitter vets.

As appreciative as he was, it didn't mean he wanted to come down here and visit these little balls of hate. Many of them held the Admins in derision, blaming them for all that was wrong in their lives. Garrett wished he would have been able to coerce the Dev into coming down here in his stead. The best way to deflect hate away from the Admins, was to throw these 'bitter pills' a Dev, and power the Temple for weeks.

Garrett wasn't surprised about the lack of anger/power coming from the Core recently. Normally, just before an update was to be released, anger was replaced by hope. Hope, from these bitter vets, that the changes they longed for would finally take effect. The more hyped the update, the more hope they possessed. Of course, the changes they wanted never occurred, and so the hate and anger that resulted was glorious. But in the meantime, the lull in power was unbearable. Cold coffee sucked.

Garrett had to find a way to jumpstart these 'generators'. He opened the door at the end of a long hall where the bitter vets loitered.

"Is anyone there?" Garrett asked, nervously.

Angry shouts emerged from the dark room, momentarily illuminating the area. Garrett recognized some of the faces, some from the past, some from more recent times.

"What are you doing here, Admin?" one of them spat. "Don't you have a server to ruin?"

Garrett gulped. He took a step forward. "Just wanted to give you a heads up on the next update."

The room went dark, but not before Garrett could see dozens of hopeful faces looking at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. He peered into the darkness, and in a loud voice, declared:

The next update will make POB's even more pointless, we are going to again buff fighter missiles and add even more systems to Gallia.

Screams of outrage echoed throughout the Temple as Garrett slammed the door shut. He dropped his flashlight to the floor so he could cover both ears before he went deaf from the rage. He ran as fast as he could through the well lit halls, leaving his flashlight behind. He wouldn't need it again anyways. His coffee would be hot for a long, long time.

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