Fluke

4: Professional Pain in the Ass

Brett was undeniably good at cooking. Even though he just made pancakes, they were fluffy, golden, and had the perfect amount of blueberries.

He even made one shaped like Mickey Mouse for Jia, as well as one shaped like a penis.

"Wow, a dick pancake. Aren't you thoughtful?" Jia said.

Brett's only response was a fit of laughter.

"I hate to ruin your moment here, but I believe that we're going to have to go over the rules of Paradise City. What's rule number one, Brett?" Darrell asked.

Brett kept laughing and waved his hand in dismissal, and when I looked over at Logan, he did his best to contain his laughter, but to no avail.

Darrell answered for Brett anyway. "I told you that it's don't touch the sword in the game room, which isn't the full truth. Rule number one in its entirety actually states that all behavior must be professional to maintain some sense of order here."

"What the fuck?" Jia asked.

"Thank you for the example of what not to do. Language, relationships, and actions should always be professional since no matter what you'd like to believe, this is a research station, not a vacation," Darrell said.

"Are dick pancakes considered professional?" Brett asked, unsuccessfully trying to swallow his laughter.

"Take a wild fucking guess, Brett," Jia said.

Brett pretended to think for a moment. "It's anatomy, and you guys are all biologists, so I'm going to go with yes."

"You would be wrong, then. Rule number two, we have strict schedules that we need to adhere to since the days out here are limited, and the expectation is that your day will be spent productively, not sleeping in until five," Darrell said.

If five o'clock in the morning was sleeping in for him, I didn't want to know what kind of life he lived off the island.

"I didn't sign up to do four months of research in the middle of the ocean to live in the totalitarian regime of your mind. All of us know why we're here. It's not fucking Margaritaville. We can handle ourselves just fine, thank you," Jia said.

"Have you ever read The Lord of the Flies?" Darrell asked.

"I was supposed to in, like, eighth grade, but I didn't," Jia said.

"It's about a group of boys who get stranded on a deserted island, form their own society, and go insane," I said.

Darrell nodded. "And if you want to end up like that, a lawless society is the best way to go about it."

"A group of only boys?" Jia asked.

I nodded.

She laughed. "Well, there's your problem. Reagan and I will keep you in order."

"Or drive us crazy," Logan muttered, but Jia didn't seem to hear him.

He just couldn't keep his mouth shut, could he?

"We don't want your order, and perhaps it'd be for the best if you just join Brett in the kitchen," Darrell said. "Not you, Reagan, since you're slightly more tolerable than her."

"That doesn't make it any better. She hasn't done anything besides express that she thinks your rules are bullshit," I said.

Jia smiled. "You're going to have to deal with me, whether you like it or not, Darrell."

"You people are going to drive me absolutely crazy." Darrell stood up from the table, picked up his computer, then headed down the hall toward the stairs.