Takeshi’s Challenge, Part 2
I woke up sweating.
It was freezing outside, but under those blankets, I felt like I was roasting alive. I had a lot on my mind, I suppose. I’d been fretting about my yearly bonus at work, and my dreams were a feverish mixture of financial failure, attempted murder, and my own death, many times over.
I kicked off the blankets and looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was two hours before the alarm was set to go off. Might as well go in to work early, I reasoned; maybe that’ll make my boss forget how much I’d been slacking off over the last few weeks. Well, months. Years, actually.
[Takeshi no Chousenjou is now fully playable in English, thanks to a fan translation released by KingMike and friends. It’s the best Christmas!]
It didn’t take long for my nightmares to sync up with reality.
My bonus was only 200,000 yen, just like in my dream. I briefly considered the possibilities.
I was feeling pretty sick, but the chief was never much for sympathy.
Or ass-kissing, for that matter.
Paid vacation? Man, I wish.
Paid vacation and then quitting? That wouldn’t go over too well.
And I wasn’t prepared to re-explore that particular scenario.
Instead I took a long lunch and decided to walk around town to clear my head.
The movie theater was showing Michael Bay’s Yakuza vs. Yakuza, and nothing else.
I walked out in the first ten minutes. To make matters worse, I lost 40,000 yen in the seat cushions.
I needed a haircut. I was getting a little shaggy, and dye jobs and perms did nothing for my look.
My barber tried to laugh it off, but really, I lost a lot of blood. A crimson pool formed near the cash register as I paid; I nearly slipped in the stuff on the way out the door.
I couldn’t afford a visit to the hospital, though. It probably wasn’t the best decision, but instead I stopped at Club Akemi before heading back to work.
I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did next. Maybe it was anger over losing a big chunk of my bonus to a Michael Bay movie. Maybe it was the 10,000-yen whiskey. Maybe it was my gaping head wound. Quite possibly, it was a mixture of all these things.
I decided to quit my job.