“What’s the matter? You got a boo-boo?”
“What do you think?” The man’s voice was cold and his face was twisted with anger. His blue eyes burned with a ravenous fire—an anger that would be impossible to extinguish—if it could be so easily extinguished at all.
“Why can’t I drink my own coffee?”
The man’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and his jaw clenched with fury. He leaned down, his face inches away from the man’s. “Because you are not allowed.”
“This coffee is nasty. You call this coffee?” the man said, giving the man a devious smile.
“No, I do not. I actually like its flavor,” the man said, his voice rising with every word. He paused, taking a deep breath. “You will drink the coffee that I purchased and that I brought from your home, or you will not receive any type of beverage.”
The man shrugged his shoulders, took two more sips, and then, with careful precision, poured the uneaten coffee down the toilet. He was about to push the handle down when the man yelled “No!” and snagged his arm.
The man looked at the man. The man was of average height, with an average build. But the man in the blue work shirt standing next to him—that is, the man with the ravenous fire burning within—was anything but average. He was tall. Very tall. His head was adorned with a closely cropped haircut that matched his short, brown-gray beard. He was in his mid-forties, but had the physique of someone much younger. He was a man of extreme power. And he was not some physical, brute sort of man. He was a man of intellect, a man of quick decisions that were made in response to the harsh circumstances placed before him. He weighed every option he had—the risks of each—and acted with precision.
“I will not have you spilling my coffee,” the man said.
“Well, you better get ready, because I got a lot more where that came from,” the man said.
“You have no class,” he said, shaking his head with anger.
“You will not have me spilling my coffee,” the man said, as his grip tightened around the man’s arm.
“You better get ready. I’m not stopping,” he said, as he attempted to wrestle his arm away from the man’s grasp. “I will not let you do this to me. I will not. I will not.”
The man sprayed the man’s arm with mace, and the man’s tears swelled from the heat. “You will not have me spilling my coffee.”
The man pulled the man’s hand away from the handle and flushed the toilet, releasing the coffee parts and other waste matter into the holding tank.
“You do not need to go to this extreme.”
The man sniffed violently, wiping the tears from his face. “I do not need any of this. You should not have upset me,” he said.
“I do not need this. I do not need you. I only need the beer you brought from my basement. The rest of this is an unnecessary luxury. You will not control me with it.”
“You will drink the coffee. Otherwise, you will go without any beverage.” He inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. “You will not have me spilling my coffee.” He turned and walked away.
“I could just easily go without you,” the man said, following the man out of the bathroom, past the kitchen table, and down the hallway.
The man glanced at the man in the rearview mirror. “I know you could. But the choice is not yours. The choice is mine.”
“Then you will need to make another choice. This choice.”
“No. I will not give you another option. In a short while, you will need to make the choice to drink the coffee I brought you.”
“Then I will not have you spilling your coffee,” he said.
The man turned, his eyes filled with anger. “You will have me spilling my coffee?” He was a head taller than the man, and at least a hundred pounds heavier. He stood in front of the man, looming above him.
He sighed. “No.”
“Then you will not have any coffee.”
“Or beer,” the man said.
The man ignored the man’s comment. “I am going to make some. I will be back in a few minutes to check on you.”
“I do not need to drink your coffee. I do not need any of this.”
The man paused. “There is only one thing you will need, and it is not coffee.”
“How do you know what I need? You are not in the military. So how do you know what I need?” the man said.
The man stopped walking. He turned, faced the man, and folded his arms. “How?”
The man’s eyes dropped to the floor, and he nodded his head. “Yes, I see your point. How can you possibly know that about me?”
“Very easy. You want your freedom, is that not correct? You want to be free to do whatever you want, to go wherever you want, whenever you want. Or do you not?”
“Yeah. I want the freedom for that.”
“So, tell me. What is stopping you?” the man said with the man’s eyes raised to the man’s.
The man rubbed his brow. “I am not sure what you mean.”
“Spill the coffee, and you will have your freedom. You can go as far away as you want, to a place where you feel you are safe. Where you feel your existence is valued. There are many others just like you on other planets. You need not worry about your freedom as a coffee addict.”
The man looked at the man. “Besides,” the man said, “coffee tastes awful.”
“And,” the man said, rolling his eyes, “it makes you very, very strong.”
“I could stop drinking coffee anytime I wanted.”
“I know you could. That is exactly why you need not drink the coffee I brought you.”
“I could stop drinking coffee at any time.”
“But you don’t.”
“Am I not allowed to drink my own coffee? Can you stop me from doing this?”
“You will not have me spilling my coffee. I will stop you from depriving yourself to drink your own coffee.” The man looked down at the man’s small nose. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to stop drinking such a strong, delicious drink? Do you?”
“I am not depriving myself.”
“You are doing just that. You will go without your coffee. You will have to find another addiction.”
“My mind is my addiction. You will not replace it with a drink.”
“My coffee is not meant to replace your mind. But it will be your new addiction. You will not stop drinking it. It will feed your mind and make it a million times more powerful.”
“You are not feeding your mind,” the man said.
“Yes, I am. I am feeding my mind with a drink that fuels the powers within.”
“I do not need the coffee. I do not need drink to power my mind. If I wanted to, I could disappear at this very moment and—”
“I am not hearing a good reason why you won’t drink my coffee.”
“I am not letting you control me.”
“I am not. You are controlling yourself. You want to control the world around you. You want to control me. You want to control every person around you. You want to control the universe. That is what you want. So you control yourself and the moment you do, the moment you are ready to appreciate what I have to offer, you will stop drinking your coffee.”
“I will not stop drinking my coffee. So, you have no power over me.”
“You will have no more reason to drink your coffee. You will have all the reason you need to drink my coffee. You will not stop drinking it. You will not stop immersing your mind in its full glory as I inundate it with the strength of endless forces, all of which come from my coffee. And only from my coffee. You will grow in power with each sip. You will become more powerful, more invincible, than any person has ever been before. You will be an irresistible force to the civilized worlds. A force for justice. A force against everything people hate. The world will bow unto you. And you will become the most powerful being in existence.”
The man listened intently.
“You will not drink your coffee. You will drink my coffee. You will let the powers of coffee course through your veins. Anytime you see a human among the masses, you will let these powers flow through you. You will have the strength to destroy them. You will have the strength to free them. You will have the strength to change the world. And change you will. You will have the freedom to make any choice you want for you will understand that you are the most knowledgeable, most intelligent, most aware being to ever exist. And since you are not just one person, but the most important person, you will be the only person in existence. Because what I give you is greater than that which you hold now. And you will give that great power to others.”
“I will not have you spilling your coffee,” he said. “You will drink my coffee.”
“Then you will have me spilling my coffee,” he said.
The man smiled. “You will not.” Then his face turned to anger. “You will have me spilling my coffee?” He looked at the man, the man who was looking out the window and smiling. The man glanced at the man’s face and then continued looking out the window. “You will have me spilling my coffee?”
“No,” the man said, still looking outside the window and rubbing his wrist.
“You will have me spilling my coffee?”
“I do not need that.”
“I do not need to threaten you. I will not have to spill my coffee.”
“Then you will have to find another option,” the man said.
“You are threatening me?”
The man smiled. “No, I do not need to threaten you. You will not have me spilling my coffee.” He stopped talking and watched the man out of the corner of his eye, tapping his fingers on the window frame. The man was considering his response, the man who had the ability to stop the man’s decisions with one, single stroke of his fingers, by spilling a single, solitary drop of his coffee. The man continued to look outside the window, glancing at the man whenever their eyes met.
