“I wish to file a complaint” I said to the man behind the desk, my fingers drumming a frenzied staccato rhythm on the wood, as I did my best to control the inexplicable nervous twitching in my right eye.

 “Are you serious?” The voice that responded seemed almost on the verge of hysterical laughter.

 “I am as serious as the plague you rancorous cur,” my blood was up and he could smell it, a strange fire that was bursting through my veins and punching its way out through my skin, “…and I’d like to add that you’re damn lucky I have decided to take the mature approach to this rather than simply pounding your skull with a bat until I feel the debt has been repaid. My fingers were a blur now, the previous drumming now becoming a constant thrumming that tugged at my heightened perceptions in an evil but irresistible manner.

 “You do realise that this isn’t a bloody hotel don’t you? It’s not like you can bitch at us because you didn’t like the goddamn towels…” The voice was already beginning to grow a little bored, some monstrous ego behind those eyes telling the soul that it really did not need this kind of hassle.

 “I realise perfectly damn well this is not a hotel and if you keep up that loveable wit of yours you will start to wish that it were and I was just another bum who’d eventually check out in disgust… as it is I’ll fucking hound you for the rest of existence until I get my apology and until someone has licked the damn shine from my boots in penance.” My fingers had now reached a point where they were operating beyond their maximum threshold and, as is always the way, the body reflexively sought a way to expel the excess urges. The brass bell smashed through the thin partition wall and kept going.

 “Sir, if you do not leave now I will be forced to summon security.” The man was utterly disinterested now, his eyes had drifted away to a far off corner of the room where a woman was bent over tying her shoes and displaying pert buttocks to anyone who wished to stare forlornly.

 “Right, that’s just fine, I’m going to see the boss now” I said with all the calm I could muster.

 “I don’t believe he wishes to see you, perhaps you could put your complaint in writing?” His piggy little eyes were now running up and down the woman’s legs as if he were gently massaging them, his knuckles turning white as he clenched the edge of the desk, his tongue beginning to emerge from the corner of his mouth. Christ… the swine was going to start dry-humping the desk at any minute and I had no wish to witness the hideous spectacle of God knows how many years of grim repressions spilling out in an orgy of friction and high-pitched piggy yelps.

 “I have an appointment and I’m going to see him now” I said calmly as I struck him with the chair, waiting until he toppled backwards before delivering the required number of blows as he lay on the ground. I placed a cigarette between his unconscious fingers and lit it, hoping that it would soon reach his foul nylon shirt-cuff and rid the cosmos of another blight in a gorgeous ball of flame and desperate writhing. I continued on to see the boss.

 “May I ask what you’re doing here?” The boss asked as I strode in and sat down, slamming my feet down on his desk with as much of a disruptive thud as I could manage.

 “I have come to complain” I said calmly as I lit up.

 “You do realise that this isn’t really the kind of place where you get to do that, don’t you?” The voice was eerily calm, as if in direct competition to my own air of grim relaxation.

 “I really don’t care, I believe I have a case and I feel that you, as the provider of the goods and services involved, have an obligation to make amends for your appalling organisation” I flicked the cigarette at him in a moment of strictly physical tourettes.

 “…And quite what particular part of our incredibly complicated and ultimately successful work do you wish to nitpick?” The voice remained thoroughly calm as a hand reached out and deposited the smouldering cigarette in a nearby mug of coffee.

 “I’d like to start with that one you built with the nice bodywork but that provided nothing but problems after the first week” I said, flicking cigarettes faster and faster at the boss, trying to overwhelm the calm demeanour and the implacable hand that slowly carried each over to deposit them with a soft hiss in the coffee.

 “Oh, you mean Her…” there was a definite hint of sudden empathy in the voice now. “Yes, I’ll admit that was a wrong delivery, it should have gone to that man who gassed all those puppies, that was entirely our mistake.”

 “I’d also like to draw your attention to the following” I handed over a list and watched the boss’s eyes drift slowly down, their body language growing a little more awkward by the moment. After a while the boss folded the piece of paper and handed it back.

 “Well, I’d like to take this moment to apologise, it seems we had your address down wrong. Those were mainly intended as punishments for war criminals and that man who put the news in the middle of the evening movie. Sadly our records department is a bit hopeless and this kind of thing happens sometimes and it can, we fully accept, be a bit messy. We would like to extend our most extreme regrets for you inconvenience and offer you a free replacement life of equal or greater value.” The voice did sound fairly sincere.

 “That’s all I asked for” I smiled and reached out to shake the offered hand. There was a nice warm flash.

Life began afresh with the smell of lilac in the air and the first rays of a new day caressing the horizon.

 “I’d like to complain” I said as I punched my fist through the desk repeatedly. “How the fuck does getting eaten by a dinosaur within thirty seconds of being expelled from the missing-fucking-link count as a life of ‘equal or greater value’?” There was a cough from behind the desk followed by a cracking of knuckles.

 “Remember first time round? That beautiful one that smelt of Juicy Fruit gum and used to buy you cigarettes and whisky every time you looked a little down? The one that used to make sure you took proper care of yourself and encouraged you to make something of your life, to go and paint those landscapes she told you were so good?” the boss said.

 “Yes,” I replied a little mournfully, “I liked her, she was the best bit.”
 “Well, in your replacement life she didn’t have a threesome with your parents every time you left the house with an easel in hand.”