‘ “The Jits” will never find out. Come on, just stick your card in the slot and I’ll handle it. Unless you want everyone in the division to think you’re’- Needles paused ominously -‘chicken.’
Chicken?
The screen suddenly appeared to turn red before Marty’s eyes. Blood rushed in his ears; his heart jack-hammered in his chest.
Chicken?
He spat out the words from between clenched teeth:
‘Nobody calls me chicken!'
Needles nodded curtly, his grin even broader than before.
‘All right,’ he said to Marty. ‘Prove it.’
That was it! He’d show Needles. He’d show Jennifer and his kids and his parents and everybody who ever thought he was a failure. He’d show everybody! He whipped out his wallet and pulled free his card.
‘Here,’ he almost shouted, plugging his card into the slot in his brief-case as the lights along the side flashed his personal code. ‘Scan it! I’m in.’
Needles did just that. Marty heard a quick series of electronic tones as his bar codes were recorded on the deal. Thanks. McFly,’ Needles said, the easy grin once again in place. ‘See you at the plant tomorrow.'
Needles cut the connection. The screen went blank.
Marty took a deep breath. Well, that was that. He hadn’t really meant to go along - there were all these complications that the rest of the guys had sort of ignored. But Needles had called him chicken - nobody called him chicken! - and he was in.
His card had been scanned and put on record. There was no turning back - and maybe Needles was right -maybe his future road was paved with gold.
He pressed the remote, flipping the art channel so that it once again filled the screen. Marty felt exhausted. All he wanted to do now was get back into the other room and finish his dinner.
He turned away from the video screen.
‘McFly!’ a voice rumbled behind him.
It was the last voice in the world Marty wanted to hear. This had to be coincidence. Didn’t it?
He turned back to the screen and the full-sized image of his glowering boss.
‘Mr Fujitsu, sir!’ Marty did his best to smile. Good evening, sir!’
The boss stared at Marty for a moment; the large man was seething silently. Maybe it was the formal dress kimono that his boss liked to wear in the evenings, but whenever Fujitsu got like this, he always reminded Marty of a meditating Samurai warrior just before he went on a killing rampage.
Marty realised his throat had gone dry all over again.
'McFly,’ Fujitsu said slowly and all-too-clearly, ‘I was monitoring that scan you just interfaced. You're terminated!’
No! His boss couldn't mean that!
‘Terminated?’ Marty protested. ‘But sir! It wasn't my idea! Needles was behind it!’ Surely, his boss could see the truth in that.
‘And you co-operated,’ Fujitsu continued, unswayed by Marty's argument. ‘It was illegal, and you knew it.’ The boss’s voice was growing quieter. It was always worse when an angry Fujitsu got quiet. Marty could almost feel that samurai sword slicing through his future.
‘You’re fired, McFly,’ Fujitsu concluded calmly. ‘Goodbye.’
Fired? Just like that?
> ‘But sir -’ Marty began rapidly. It wasn’t his fault. There had to be some way to get the boss to see that. Needles had called Marty chicken! Nobody called Marty chicken!
‘McFly!’ Fujitsu cut him off abruptly. ‘Read my fax!’ The boss's face disappeared from the screen, replaced by a piece of company stationery, addressed to Marty McFly Senior. Besides the address, and Fujitsu's signature on the bottom, there were only two words on that piece of paper: