Beautiful Disaster

by C. J.

  Deciding that getting rid of the oozing mess was a good idea, Danny jumped into an adjacent shower. Getting rid of the gunk took some time as the substance was sort of adhering and soaking into their skin. They were used to failure but usually not one quite so sticky or gooey. They were also not used to using themselves as guinea pigs. Although Danny and Kevin had many less than rational moments in the lab, they certainly weren't dumb enough to use themselves as consumer trial panelists or as Kevin liked to call them, “pre-emergency room admittees.” On occasion, Kevin and Danny would try a small sample of product on a tiny portion of their skin and have a heavy-duty soap akin to 10 times the strength of Lava on hand to immediately remove it, particularly if it began to eat through their skin. Consequently, they both had somewhat blotchy skin from such testing in addition to their off-duty experiments in which they produced, even more, explosions and chaos than they did at work.

  After nearly 30 minutes of scrubbing, they emerged extremely clean and product free. Danny caught Kevin staring at him and gave him a questioning look, but Kevin only moved closer and said, “Hey you look good, you look terrific.”

  Danny backed up into a corner of the locker room and began to swat at Kevin with his loofa brush. “Knock it off or I’ll file a complaint. Just see how you will explain a sexual harassment complaint against a dude on your next job interview.”

  “Don’t be such an idiot, you idiot. Your burn marks, even the one shaped like a guitar, are gone. In fact, all your scars are missing too.”

  “What!? They can’t be. Must be the cheap lighting in here.”

  "No, really, they’re gone." Kevin was rubbing his forehead in the abstracted way he does when trying to solve a problem. He usually rubs the area over his right eye where he has a scar, one he refers to as his “dueling scar” to the ladies. "Hey, my forehead scar is gone. Remember, you used my forehead to unstick our window when we locked ourselves out of our apartment a few years back."

  "A few years back! It was like back in the Paleozoic period, fuck face. Geez, you use every opportunity to throw that in my face, don't you? You act as if I ambushed you. We were brainstorming and had run out of ideas when I realized that the window wasn't locked but was just stuck and needed a gentle nudge. The next thing I know, after I brilliantly solved the problem, I hear screaming and carrying on about bleeding to death and lawsuits!"

  “Enough, enough. I forgive you. See it’s gone.”

  “I can’t see anything. Your big carcass is pressed up against the mirror.”

  Which was true for, Kevin was literally eyeball to his own eyeball in the full-length mirror trying to find his forehead scar.

  Looking at his own reflection, Danny saw a new and improved version of himself. All blemishes were gone. Every scar, burn mark and paper-cut was gone, even down to an annoying hangnail that had been bothering him. It was as though someone from a high fashion magazine had come in and airbrushed him. He looked fabulous. He couldn’t take his eyes off himself. Like most men, Danny had partial, and on certain occasions, almost complete blindness about himself. He always thought he looked good, dressed well and spoke eloquently at all times. In reality, comfort doesn’t equal sartorial eloquence, and as comfortable as denim and flannel are, they are not fit for every occasion. Now, however, the Daniel J. Kensington in the mirror was just as good looking as the one in Danny’s mind. The mirrored reflection showed a five foot nine inch man in his 30’s with short platinum blonde hair and vague muscle tone with a stunned look on his face.

  “It worked!” Danny shrieked. Danny never had outgrown the excited, “Look what I got for Christmas!" shriek that he had perfected in the first grade. It would burst out of him at inopportune moments for everyone else working in the lab and had caused many a setback. Even though everyone was used to his excitability the tone he reached would still cause coworkers to experience momentary spasms at the worst possible moment, causing everything from slight spills to the occasional catastrophe. It wasn't as if the shrieks erupted at groundbreaking discovery, either. Usually, Danny shrieked when he learned a new ps4 (PlayStation 4) game had just come out, or he had just fired off a 48 point word in a game of Words with Friends. Luckily Danny was well liked and well respected as a formulations chemist otherwise he would've been found smoldering in a vat of discarded goo a long time ago.

  "Yes, but what worked?" asked Kevin as he spun around in the locker room like a demented twister game participant.

  “The formula, you moron.”

  "Yes, but what was in the formula?"

  Confusion and then panic crept into Danny’s usually serene face, and he let out another shriek and began banging his head against a nearby tiled wall. Kevin briefly looked at Danny and then started staring at the ceiling as if awaiting instructions from above.

  Except for the rhythmic thumping of Danny's head against tile, everything was quiet for a minute. Then Kevin's neck got a crick in it. Deciding that no help was coming from either the off-white ceiling or the out of date recessed light fixtures, he glanced in the mirror.

  “Good thing there aren’t any cameras in here otherwise we’d be the stars on the Christmas video of morons for sure.”

  “Yes, I’d hate to look silly during a Christmas party we won’t attend because we’ll be deeeeeeed.”

  “Deeeed? Did you just turn into one of those fucking divas? Or did you hit your head one too many times?”

  “Cameras. Cameras...there are cameras all over this place including...”

  “Including the lab” finished Kevin.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SUZANNE VERASSING, Safety and Human Resource coordinator of Lexi Corp. was making her usual trip to the security office with an armful of baked goods. Since her hire date Suzanne had been cultivating the friendship of all of the security personnel. She believed if she was seen often enough, and shoved enough baked goods down their throats, they would feel she was harmless and would cease to notice when she came around or at least not be alarmed when she did. Her plan worked, for, on every trip to the security office, which she made several times a week, she would download several days' worth of video surveillance on a flash drive she carried with her at all times for opportune moments of piracy. Then she would watch it at her leisure at home or occasionally in a vacant Lexi office and forward any pertinent video off to Teaberry Cosmetics, Lexi Corp’s main competitor.

  Suzanne was actually employed by Teaberry, the, CEO of which had no compunctions about getting ahead in the cosmetics business no matter the risk or illegality.

  Suzanne Verassing or as she was known at Teaberry, Suzanne Hemlock, was a jack of all trades so to speak, a hired gunslinger for companies, which like Teaberry left their scruples behind after their stock first became public. With her chameleon-like features, Suzanne could fit in anywhere and conform to any type of situation. At five foot four 120 pounds, with shoulder length dark hair and hazel eyes, she had deceivingly soft facial features which contrasted her extremely physically fit and heavily muscled body. She covered up her muscles with long sleeves and full-length skirts. At Lexi, she was the Human Resource woman who wore her hair in barrettes and favored pastels and flower-printed outfits. With a permanent smile on her face, she could always be found around the company delivering home-baked goods to someone's office or a conference room.

  Teaberry hired Suzanne because her abilities included theft, actual and informational, and product sabotage. She was not above seducing anyone who might have valuable information or needed to be slowed down if they were on the verge of a significant breakthrough. She also had a knack for destroying companies from within by preying on the weaknesses of essential members of staff, such as alcoholism, gambling, etc. What Teaberry didn’t know was that Suzanne also was a hired assassin and that she advertised on the dark web for extra money and for the sheer thrill of killing. She especially enjoyed making a murder look like an accident or a natural death. However, there was something to be said for the out and out wham bam bullet through the head
approach. She often wondered if she was more of a sociopath or a psychopath but decided that was society's problem to figure out at some point. For now, she would just enjoy the ride.

  For two long years, Suzanne had integrated herself with these self-absorbed non- productive piles of emotionally driven drones. She had plastered on a smile after fake smile. She had signed every birthday, get well, and retirement schlock filled card until she wanted to puke. Known as the happy homemaker of the company, she had brought in baked goods by the dozens, which gave her stomach cramps. Finally, yes finally she was going to get out of this stifling environment and move on to something that didn’t involve skin care or the beauty industry. If it required chemistry, she wanted the end result to at least blow-up.

  "Actually that might be a fitting end for Lexi a lab explosion with these annoying lab rats blown up in a fireball. Whoops, something went wrong, and just when they were having a breakthrough, what a horrible tragedy. Well, it's time to butter up Mitchell and Roger," Suzanne said to herself as she grabbed a tin of cupcakes and headed for the security office, unaware that she was about to hit pay dirt.

  Later, after leaving the security office, she headed on home and watched the video she had downloaded. On it Suzanne saw Kensington and Montgomery (code names, “Dumb and Dumber”) run to the UV-VIS (ultraviolet, visible spectroscopy) with some sort of sample to analyze. She noticed Dumb and Dumber were acting stranger than usual, and something seemed different about them as well. They didn’t look as repulsive as they usually did. Their skin glowed as though they just had a body wrap, which was doubtful. She wasn’t sure they even bathed.

  She leaned into her monitor as far as she could while zooming in. Suzanne couldn't believe what she saw. Kensington and Montgomery both had perfect, unblemished skin. Had they actually come up with something? No. It wasn’t possible, she thought. She waited for them to suddenly combust, or for their first layer of skin to slide off in a crusty heap, but nothing happened. They just stood there grinning at each other and doing what appeared... Wait, they’re seizing. They are having the start of some sort of grand mal. No, oh God, they’re dancing and chest bumping.

  She immediately texted her contact at Teaberry, Gretchen Meadows, and told her she was sending a feed off her computer. Once the feed uploaded, Suzanne and Gretchen began an Internet Relay Chat (IRC).They start an Internet Relay Chat (IRC).

  G- Why are they analyzing the formula now? Are they double checking the ingredients? They should’ve examined the formula ages ago. They needed to have run it through the spectroscopy months ago for the quantitating determination of the different analytes. They can’t be checking to make sure their sample complies with the Drug and Cosmetic Act for the FDA now. It’s crunch time.

  S- I wonder if the morons are using Nanotechnology and or nanoemulsion. That’s a little beyond their limited scope.

  G- Of course it was experimental in 1998 and is the new hot ingredient we hide in the label. Of course no one advertises it that way. Who wants to buy something that bores into your skin and then possibly into your bloodstream and lymph system?

  S- Think again, G. Some of these women would give 10 years off of their life to look 10 years younger now. What do they care if things run amuck in their system and eventually damage their tissue?

  G-Why are you just showing me this now? It looks like they have been working on this for some time. What have you been doing over there?

  S-These guys are idiots, grade “A” morons who spend the whole day playing games and socializing. The odds of them coming up with anything slightly marketable and innovative are the same odds of a pig winning the lotto. I'm looking through the previous video to see the breakthrough moment. I'll also look for any specific ingredients or at least find out where they keep their notes.

  G-Teaberry is paying you a lot of money. You had better do more than just look at the video and guess at what they came up with. I want that formula, I want everything surrounding that formula and no trace of anything or anyone connected with it after you have it. Is that clear?

  S- Yes, G. I understand. You will have it all and Lexi Corp. will have nothing once again.

  G- Signed off.

  Suzanne was nervous and for Suzanne nervous was unthinkable. She disregarded the most recent portion of the download since it appeared those two grade A idiots were just throwing ingredients into a bowl. And when they combined the two containers, she figured they were making their lunch again. Several months ago she’d been fooled. While viewing a surveillance video, she thought Dumb and Dumber were looking unusually focused as they compared notes from battered notebooks. She had carefully taken notes of every colored-coded jar, only to learn that the morons had been making chili for themselves and the rest of the lab.

  She couldn’t find a moment in any of the videos where Kensington and Montgomery had manufactured a formula. In fact, she could barely find a moment when they were actually working. Suzanne thought she had it back in July, but then a series of explosions and an evacuation of the lab destroyed that possibility.

  She sat and pondered things. She began to wonder if the video in which they’d been making chili might have been when they actually created the formula and the latest video with what appeared to be them tossing random ingredients in was part of that same formula. Did I misjudge those idiots? Are they that brilliant that they can come up with a working formula in that short of time? Did they just need a deadline to perform? No. They are idiots that got lucky, and now they will be the late idiots of Lexi Corp.

  Suzanne packed a “to go” bag. For her, this meant a Glock 21 .45 cal. with a silencer, a .223 DPMS rifle in a case, plenty of ammo and enough explosives to wipe out an entire city block. She also put in a change of clothes; she would walk past the Tweedles as Suzanne from HR, but would come out a warrior. She put all of this in her Land Rover. Soon after arriving at Lexi Corp., she had the car outfitted with plates registered to that moron Brian Conner. She never drove the Land Rover to Lexi Corp. before given she felt it would not go with her happy homemaker image. But today, when the big bang occurred, the last car seen going through security would be Conner's Land Rover, and his ID badge would be used in the entryway. It was always good to be prepared and to have a scapegoat, and Conner, the jackass, was perfect.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHILE SUZANNE WAS HAPPILY packing and daydreaming of fireballs in the sky, Danny and Kevin were back in the NMR room frantically trying to backtrack and erase all trace of the formula and their connection to today’s incredible discovery. Danny was still doing an incredibly sad one-man jitterbug and realized he was doing a solo act.

  “Good thing you thought of running the gunk through the NMR. That will give us more information on what it is and how many impurities there are. Are you almost finished?” he asked as Kevin’s head disappeared into the bowels of the Nuclear Magnetic Resonance Spectroscopy.

  A voice echoed from its depths, “Almost done deleting us.”

  Frenzied, Danny started patting himself and dancing backward, away from the NMR. “I didn't know this thing could do that."

  “What?”

  "Uh, never mind, just hurry up." Danny giggled as he realized Kevin was deleting all of the day's analysis including the usernames and passwords used to operate the Spectroscopy. He pictured Kevin tinkering with it in such a way that they would dematerialize like something out of Star Trek.

  Kevin emerged from the NMR innards.

  “I’ve turned off the cameras in all the rooms and hallways we are going to be using, and I am now replaying the Memorial Day weekend feed in which all the labs and halls were deserted as they should be now. I’ve already downloaded the video feed of us making the formula to my phone. I can transfer it to something safer when we get home.”

  “Hey, isn’t it going to look odd that no one has used the washing machine all day? It’s used pretty frequently,” Danny said

  The NMR Spectroscopy sort of looked like a two-story washing machine on steroids with
massive chunky legs, stairs, and catwalk, hence its nickname.

  "Crap. In fact, there's a sign in log too that I forgot about. I never sign in, at least not with my name."

  "Whose name do you use?"

  “Let’s not get into names and who uses who for what right now. We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

  "Who for who? I still want to know if I'm the who. Hey, couldn't you run an infinite self-test loop or something? Make it look like the washing machine went all Hal for a day?"

  "You know, you amaze me, Danny. You aren't as nearly dumb as people say you are."

  "Yes, well you know, sometimes I even amaze... Wait a second you asshole." Danny turned around to hit Kevin with the nearest object and saw that he had once again disappeared into the washing machine. When he re-appeared, he was smacked about the head several times by Danny at which point a slap fight broke out.

  “Wait! Wait a second! We need to get samples of the formula and its ingredients out of here without being seen,” said Kevin as sanity returned to his brain after a most painful slap in the face.

  "You said you've turned off all the cameras, so why can't we just walk on out? Oh, right, Tweedle Dee and Dum."

  Tweedle Dee and Dum or as their name tags read, Mitchell and Roger, were the security guards for the employee entry and exit doors. They were required to search all bags, packages, etc. of everyone coming and going. The company even spent money on a body scan machine for those employees working in the ultra-secret labs, such as the one to which Kevin and Danny were assigned. Mitchell and Roger were nicknamed Tweedle Dee and Dum for obvious reasons, but they were thorough, to the point of robotic thoroughness, and Kevin and Danny knew they wouldn't be able to get past them.

  “VIP doors!” Kevin and Danny said in unison.