Chapter 1: The Calling
After surviving the greatest of battles, the ancient warrior had found his most respectable challenge.
The floor was his fated enemy. It brandished weapons of grime, oil, and dirt. It retaliated against his assult by throwing grenades of leaves or – even worse – dead and deceased members of the insect family.
The mop was his greatest weapon. The Decimator: a specially modified mop, given battle-earned grime stains on the interchangeable towel and the t-shaped body of the lethal weapon.
Cleanliness was his mission – the unattainable glory and beauty of cleanliness, the ultimate good. It was the sun to his days, the hope to his nights – that one day, these grounds would be clean.
He was the shining, unsung hero of all that stood around his grizzled, raccoon-scarred hands.
He was the warrior against all that was dark and evil, fighting against an endless plague, a hopeless scourge.
He, Micheal Borden, was:
The Janitor.
Never again would he take up weapons that could eliminate the challenge in one shot. Never again would he fight against puny human beings, with their weak resolve and flimsy numbers. Never again would he engage in strategies with those tiny minds. Instead, he fought a mindless enemy, one whose logic is unpredictable from sheer lack of reasoning. This – this battle, this war… this was a truly noble challenge – one that he would never cease to fight. Between this ancient crusader and his Decimator, nothing would stand in the way of his holy quest for light and order.
The floor was his fated enemy. It brandished weapons of grime, oil, and dirt. It retaliated against his assult by throwing grenades of leaves or – even worse – dead and deceased members of the insect family.
The mop was his greatest weapon. The Decimator: a specially modified mop, given battle-earned grime stains on the interchangeable towel and the t-shaped body of the lethal weapon.
Cleanliness was his mission – the unattainable glory and beauty of cleanliness, the ultimate good. It was the sun to his days, the hope to his nights – that one day, these grounds would be clean.
He was the shining, unsung hero of all that stood around his grizzled, raccoon-scarred hands.
He was the warrior against all that was dark and evil, fighting against an endless plague, a hopeless scourge.
He, Micheal Borden, was:
The Janitor.
Never again would he take up weapons that could eliminate the challenge in one shot. Never again would he fight against puny human beings, with their weak resolve and flimsy numbers. Never again would he engage in strategies with those tiny minds. Instead, he fought a mindless enemy, one whose logic is unpredictable from sheer lack of reasoning. This – this battle, this war… this was a truly noble challenge – one that he would never cease to fight. Between this ancient crusader and his Decimator, nothing would stand in the way of his holy quest for light and order.