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Bob's Burgeria
The final satisfying click! on the hatch meant one thing: safety.
Hopkins had been tipped off about the emergency shelter days before the contact was found dead. Fugitive life after that was a harsh mistress: hiding from state sec every turn, always running, never truly getting away. Here, however, he could finally catch a break.
The shelter itself was sufficient: warm bed, six months’ water and food, enough weapons for a small platoon, and an audio recorder to leave a message for the next shelter-takers. Good for planning out his next move and to make the authorities presume him dead. Dozens of meters underground, he still did not feel completely safe, but it was the best he could ask for.
An hour of sorting and cleaning later, he lied down on the bed, taking his bag with him. Minutes of silently looking at the ceiling light later, he checked the stuff in there like granola bars, instant coffee, pistol, and phone.
Took the phone out. Sighed at the logo slapped on it: some guy’s happy face on top of a burger. “Bob’s Burgeria!” Only company he worked for in life. At least he’d removed the tracking devices beforehand.
There were no messages or missed calls or social media stuff, just as it’d been since getting off the grid. No access to the Internet as well, though better offline forever than being caught by them.
With no games or any other time-passing app, only photos and videos kept him company.
Decade-old pictures oozed memories of normalcy—pictures of him smiling with family and work friends. Back then, life at Bob’s wasn’t that bad: the place never got full and there was always too much stock or a cook late for work, yet they somehow got by each year.
Until Robert arrived: new kid on the block with a fancy business degree. The manager hired him to save the eatery from bankruptcy. Robert did just that, with a forty percent monthly profit increase to boot. The manager decided the burgeria would be in better hands if they were in Robert’s, so the manager handed ownership to him.
Hopkins had taken photos of every company event, which didn’t stop with Robert stepping up: new branches opening everywhere, big-budget commercials being shot, entering new industries like construction and security.
Meanwhile, Hopkins was stuck in the same old burgeria. More working hours became obligatory: last time, they slept and lived in the kitchen. Salary dipped too, with “expansion reasons” being the excuse.
Soon, Bob’s was everywhere. Pictures of Bob’s-sponsored material came up: merchandise, TV shows, social media ads, sports teams. Bob’s was the epitome of rags-to-riches.
After Bob’s sudden corporate takeover of several countries, the number of photos fell off a cliff. Images of Bob’s police force patrolling the streets, of friends only wearing Bob’s uniforms. Those who’d asked to leave the supercompany were ignored. Those who’d asked again mysteriously disappeared. They later turned up dead or came back to work smiling too much.
He’d tried to leave politely.
“Don’t you see? You are very important to this company. You were there during its dark ages.”
“I’d rather have the old stupid burger place than this savagery, Robert!”
“Ah, but you don’t understand, Mister Hopkins. My purpose for Bob’s is to increase its profits: just what I was hired for.”
“But for what?! Profits for what?! Don’t tell me you’re hoarding stuff just because!”
“...”
Hours later, Hopkins sat on his bed. Dinner was done, and there was nothing else to do but sleep. Scanning the outside would have to wait until next week.
In his hand was the audio recorder. With a tired sigh, he brought it up to his mouth and turned it on.
Staring straight out, talking to nobody.
“If… if you’re hearing this, I’m dead. Take what you need. Might not be much, but it’ll be enough to last you a few weeks. If you can, resist Robert. And… a-and if you recognize me… I’m sorry."
He paused. He coughed.
“… signing off for the last time, fighting against greed itself, this is the founder and rightful manager of Bob’s Burgeria, Bob Hopki—mmnf!”
Gagged, bound, blinded. Hands, shackled by cold steel. Stunned. Couldn’t move.
Insensible radio chatter. Then, a stranger’s voice as Hopkins was dragged away.
“The concept of obstacles is now the legal property of Bob’s Burgeria. You shall be repurposed. Your mind and soul are Bob’s. Your purpose is to increase Bob’s profits. Thank you for your co-operation.”
Hopkins had been tipped off about the emergency shelter days before the contact was found dead. Fugitive life after that was a harsh mistress: hiding from state sec every turn, always running, never truly getting away. Here, however, he could finally catch a break.
The shelter itself was sufficient: warm bed, six months’ water and food, enough weapons for a small platoon, and an audio recorder to leave a message for the next shelter-takers. Good for planning out his next move and to make the authorities presume him dead. Dozens of meters underground, he still did not feel completely safe, but it was the best he could ask for.
An hour of sorting and cleaning later, he lied down on the bed, taking his bag with him. Minutes of silently looking at the ceiling light later, he checked the stuff in there like granola bars, instant coffee, pistol, and phone.
Took the phone out. Sighed at the logo slapped on it: some guy’s happy face on top of a burger. “Bob’s Burgeria!” Only company he worked for in life. At least he’d removed the tracking devices beforehand.
There were no messages or missed calls or social media stuff, just as it’d been since getting off the grid. No access to the Internet as well, though better offline forever than being caught by them.
With no games or any other time-passing app, only photos and videos kept him company.
Decade-old pictures oozed memories of normalcy—pictures of him smiling with family and work friends. Back then, life at Bob’s wasn’t that bad: the place never got full and there was always too much stock or a cook late for work, yet they somehow got by each year.
Until Robert arrived: new kid on the block with a fancy business degree. The manager hired him to save the eatery from bankruptcy. Robert did just that, with a forty percent monthly profit increase to boot. The manager decided the burgeria would be in better hands if they were in Robert’s, so the manager handed ownership to him.
Hopkins had taken photos of every company event, which didn’t stop with Robert stepping up: new branches opening everywhere, big-budget commercials being shot, entering new industries like construction and security.
Meanwhile, Hopkins was stuck in the same old burgeria. More working hours became obligatory: last time, they slept and lived in the kitchen. Salary dipped too, with “expansion reasons” being the excuse.
Soon, Bob’s was everywhere. Pictures of Bob’s-sponsored material came up: merchandise, TV shows, social media ads, sports teams. Bob’s was the epitome of rags-to-riches.
After Bob’s sudden corporate takeover of several countries, the number of photos fell off a cliff. Images of Bob’s police force patrolling the streets, of friends only wearing Bob’s uniforms. Those who’d asked to leave the supercompany were ignored. Those who’d asked again mysteriously disappeared. They later turned up dead or came back to work smiling too much.
He’d tried to leave politely.
“Don’t you see? You are very important to this company. You were there during its dark ages.”
“I’d rather have the old stupid burger place than this savagery, Robert!”
“Ah, but you don’t understand, Mister Hopkins. My purpose for Bob’s is to increase its profits: just what I was hired for.”
“But for what?! Profits for what?! Don’t tell me you’re hoarding stuff just because!”
“...”
Hours later, Hopkins sat on his bed. Dinner was done, and there was nothing else to do but sleep. Scanning the outside would have to wait until next week.
In his hand was the audio recorder. With a tired sigh, he brought it up to his mouth and turned it on.
Staring straight out, talking to nobody.
“If… if you’re hearing this, I’m dead. Take what you need. Might not be much, but it’ll be enough to last you a few weeks. If you can, resist Robert. And… a-and if you recognize me… I’m sorry."
He paused. He coughed.
“… signing off for the last time, fighting against greed itself, this is the founder and rightful manager of Bob’s Burgeria, Bob Hopki—mmnf!”
Gagged, bound, blinded. Hands, shackled by cold steel. Stunned. Couldn’t move.
Insensible radio chatter. Then, a stranger’s voice as Hopkins was dragged away.
“The concept of obstacles is now the legal property of Bob’s Burgeria. You shall be repurposed. Your mind and soul are Bob’s. Your purpose is to increase Bob’s profits. Thank you for your co-operation.”
Pics
Skimming through this, it becomes obvious that the backstory/explanatory part of the fic takes up lots of real estate here as well as descriptions about the shelter as a whole. This is a risky move, because that means that the big surprise/reveal/payoff/whatever at the end will take the short end of the stick and should be worth all this talking about despite (or beacuse of) its shortness. So the million-dollar question is: did it succeed?
Kind of. True, fast-paced high-octane climaxes shouldn't be too wordy, but I get the feeling that the ending was more of an addition to the meaty backstory than an equal piece to the whole. Still, it fulfilled its function: gave the surprise at the end about who Hopkins really used to be right before state sec (or is it "private sec" at this point, considering the police are Bob's?) somehow gets to him. Nice try at sounding ominous with the last quote, but the concept of obstacles being owned by a company is open to tons of interpretation and I'm not sure what you're going for here.
On the bright side, you don't have any egregious spelling/grammatical errors so it looks quite polished and clean; at least you got that going for you.
Overall, despite the rough edges pace-wise and some rather dubious line decisions, this is quite a brooding and rather dystopian piece!
Kind of. True, fast-paced high-octane climaxes shouldn't be too wordy, but I get the feeling that the ending was more of an addition to the meaty backstory than an equal piece to the whole. Still, it fulfilled its function: gave the surprise at the end about who Hopkins really used to be right before state sec (or is it "private sec" at this point, considering the police are Bob's?) somehow gets to him. Nice try at sounding ominous with the last quote, but the concept of obstacles being owned by a company is open to tons of interpretation and I'm not sure what you're going for here.
On the bright side, you don't have any egregious spelling/grammatical errors so it looks quite polished and clean; at least you got that going for you.
Overall, despite the rough edges pace-wise and some rather dubious line decisions, this is quite a brooding and rather dystopian piece!
Alternate Title: Capitalism, Eh?
Something I liked:
Writing suspense/horror in the minific format is really hard, and author, I think you did an admirable job. On a prose level this is a very solid entry, especially in the first half where you're describing the world of our protagonist while also establishing the stakes. The second scene, which is all dialogue, feels rushed, but the suspense of the final scene makes up for that. There are only two characters here, with similar names, but I think you did this to throw us for a loop. You didn't want us to guess who Hopkins was too early, and at first we're supposed to think the founder of Bob's Burgeria is Robert. Good one.
Something I didn't like:
The message of this entry is pretty obvious, but worse yet, I don't feel particularly compelled by it. Corporations can be scary, but I think having Bob's Burgeria be this overtly evil is missing the point, or rather having Bob's Burgeria be more overtly evil than any real-life corporation undermines what the message is supposed to be. Corporations get away with some pretty scummy shit, but the cartoonish nature of Bob's Burgeria is too much to take seriously.
Verdict: As an entertaining little piece of suspense I think it works, but I don't buy it as trying to convey a serious message.
Something I liked:
Writing suspense/horror in the minific format is really hard, and author, I think you did an admirable job. On a prose level this is a very solid entry, especially in the first half where you're describing the world of our protagonist while also establishing the stakes. The second scene, which is all dialogue, feels rushed, but the suspense of the final scene makes up for that. There are only two characters here, with similar names, but I think you did this to throw us for a loop. You didn't want us to guess who Hopkins was too early, and at first we're supposed to think the founder of Bob's Burgeria is Robert. Good one.
Something I didn't like:
The message of this entry is pretty obvious, but worse yet, I don't feel particularly compelled by it. Corporations can be scary, but I think having Bob's Burgeria be this overtly evil is missing the point, or rather having Bob's Burgeria be more overtly evil than any real-life corporation undermines what the message is supposed to be. Corporations get away with some pretty scummy shit, but the cartoonish nature of Bob's Burgeria is too much to take seriously.
Verdict: As an entertaining little piece of suspense I think it works, but I don't buy it as trying to convey a serious message.
The atmosphere here is fine, but I feel like you're missing the character piece. We never really find out who Hopkins is as a person, so aside from the generic concern we'd have for anyone in his situation, we're not given a reason to be invested in him specifically.
I also don't get the sense that this story knows what it wants to be. The absurdity of a burger joint taking over everything, the equal absurdity of the final line, and the way we get that click! near the beginning create a comic tone, but everything else is so serious that it seems more like a cautionary tale. They're fighting each other in my head. Plus it's hard to personalize all that back story when it's delivered as a narrative summary instead of something happening "now" to the character. I think you can get away with this kind of thing, but if you modify how you approach it. Make it his own experience: not that Bob's Burgeria was taking over countries, but how that went down locally for Hopkins. I wouldn't dwell so long on the contents of the shelter, either. Most of it didn't end up being important. I know you're trying to imply what the world's like from what's stashed there, but it's all just the standard stuff I'd expect. When your word count is severely limited, keep it to what's unexpected or necessary for the plot to work.
You did a good job of building real tension, it's just that I wasn't invested in who was subjected to it. I'm sorry I don't have a lot to say about this, but its problems, at least to me, aren't on the detail level. It's more about the broad strokes of what it's trying to accomplish.
I also don't get the sense that this story knows what it wants to be. The absurdity of a burger joint taking over everything, the equal absurdity of the final line, and the way we get that click! near the beginning create a comic tone, but everything else is so serious that it seems more like a cautionary tale. They're fighting each other in my head. Plus it's hard to personalize all that back story when it's delivered as a narrative summary instead of something happening "now" to the character. I think you can get away with this kind of thing, but if you modify how you approach it. Make it his own experience: not that Bob's Burgeria was taking over countries, but how that went down locally for Hopkins. I wouldn't dwell so long on the contents of the shelter, either. Most of it didn't end up being important. I know you're trying to imply what the world's like from what's stashed there, but it's all just the standard stuff I'd expect. When your word count is severely limited, keep it to what's unexpected or necessary for the plot to work.
You did a good job of building real tension, it's just that I wasn't invested in who was subjected to it. I'm sorry I don't have a lot to say about this, but its problems, at least to me, aren't on the detail level. It's more about the broad strokes of what it's trying to accomplish.
I'm gonna be completely honest here, I don't think this story does anything for me, though I can wholeheartedly say that it wasn't for lack of trying. I think there's definitely enough work put in to make it presentable on your part, dear Author, though ultimately I found the flaws in this entry outweighed the merits.
Going into it, the concept is crisp, clear, and presented well enough to not warrant any raised eyebrows from me. I will say though, perhaps it's playing a little too safe with it, with most of it being delivered via expositionary paragraphs that leaned a little heavier on the telling side instead of showing for my taste. Now, I'd usually be fine with this, as I usually prefer stories that know how to meet the boundaries it sets instead of overreaching them, but judging from the prose and structure alone, this feels like the work of someone punching underneath their weight. There are definitely more interesting ways this story could be framed. Perhaps with a little more time on your hands, dear Author, this would've been something special.
The big issue for me is definitely the tone, as most of my fellow reviewers have mentioned. The suspense of the whole situation is wholly undercut by the sheer absurdity of it all. I'm considering the possibility that you might be going for a contrast of sorts, but I believe it ultimately failed because the protagonist doesn't seem to be aware of the absurdity of the situation amid all the horror. Frankly though, I'm not sure if such a contrast would even work without the narrative shifting its gears a bit. The story's message could definitely work better if we removed the protagonist's degrees of separation from the robots. Maybe something like having Bob being the creator of these robots instead who was forced into serving his androids by feeding them grapes while they disembowel his secretary or whatever. You know, something that pushes both the horror and the absurdity to the extreme so that they both shine in tandem with one another.
The twist of Bob being the actual founder is nice, but in the grander scheme of things, it doesn't really do anything to build upon the story that's being told. In fact, the knowledge of that fact severely undermines the logic of the story. Many times I've wondered why Bob, being the founder of his business, couldn't just stop Robert from his relentless campaign to expanding Bob's Burgeria. I felt like it's such a tremendous failure on Bob's part as a businessperson that at some point, I have to say that he kinda deserved it.
Ultimately, I think this story is fine, though it's suffering from a massive identity crisis. As it is, I think the best advice I could give you is narrow down the focus a bit, zero in on a singular thread of the story and build your way up from there instead of giving us a general lattice of how things went down.
Thanks for writing, and good luck!
Going into it, the concept is crisp, clear, and presented well enough to not warrant any raised eyebrows from me. I will say though, perhaps it's playing a little too safe with it, with most of it being delivered via expositionary paragraphs that leaned a little heavier on the telling side instead of showing for my taste. Now, I'd usually be fine with this, as I usually prefer stories that know how to meet the boundaries it sets instead of overreaching them, but judging from the prose and structure alone, this feels like the work of someone punching underneath their weight. There are definitely more interesting ways this story could be framed. Perhaps with a little more time on your hands, dear Author, this would've been something special.
The big issue for me is definitely the tone, as most of my fellow reviewers have mentioned. The suspense of the whole situation is wholly undercut by the sheer absurdity of it all. I'm considering the possibility that you might be going for a contrast of sorts, but I believe it ultimately failed because the protagonist doesn't seem to be aware of the absurdity of the situation amid all the horror. Frankly though, I'm not sure if such a contrast would even work without the narrative shifting its gears a bit. The story's message could definitely work better if we removed the protagonist's degrees of separation from the robots. Maybe something like having Bob being the creator of these robots instead who was forced into serving his androids by feeding them grapes while they disembowel his secretary or whatever. You know, something that pushes both the horror and the absurdity to the extreme so that they both shine in tandem with one another.
The twist of Bob being the actual founder is nice, but in the grander scheme of things, it doesn't really do anything to build upon the story that's being told. In fact, the knowledge of that fact severely undermines the logic of the story. Many times I've wondered why Bob, being the founder of his business, couldn't just stop Robert from his relentless campaign to expanding Bob's Burgeria. I felt like it's such a tremendous failure on Bob's part as a businessperson that at some point, I have to say that he kinda deserved it.
Ultimately, I think this story is fine, though it's suffering from a massive identity crisis. As it is, I think the best advice I could give you is narrow down the focus a bit, zero in on a singular thread of the story and build your way up from there instead of giving us a general lattice of how things went down.
Thanks for writing, and good luck!
I think this was pretty good story, but an awful minific. The pacing was good and everything, but there is a lot of info that could be built upon. I'm just saying this story doesn't seem to match this category.
This isn't going to affect the ranking of this at all.
Truthfully, I think this would better as a short story or something. There are so many ideas in here, and I want to see a longer version of it.
This isn't going to affect the ranking of this at all.
Truthfully, I think this would better as a short story or something. There are so many ideas in here, and I want to see a longer version of it.