Willy, a Cancer, manages to follow a routine everyday.  As usual, he arrives to work on time and jumps in right away.  By lunchtime he meets up with his only friend Tom Careb, a Virgo.  Everyday they sit together and discuss their family, sports, the current news and plans for the weekend.  But today's conversation turns out to be a little different, and could lead to an adverse outcome.

 

"Hey, Will, how -" Tom halts his greeting, observing Willy's expression.  "Whoa, man, who just shit in your Corn Flakes?"

 

"Dean," Willy replies.  He is referring to the kid with more authority and less experience than him.

 

"Ah, yes, 'Silver Spoon Boy'.  What is it this time?"

 

"Oh, that sonofabitch is a goddamn hypocrite," Willy begins.  "He keeps gettin' on my ass to do my work while he's sittin' on his can doin' dick all."

 

Tom shakes his head.  "You know, he really ain't that bad.  Hey, I think he's great."

 

"Fuck you!  He's an asshole!  And what do you know?  You're always kissin' his ass, anyways."

 

"Oh, fuckin' blow me, man," Tom says, sipping his Raspberry Hazelnut Coffee.  "So, what are you gonna do, huh?  Tell him off?  He can fire you, you know."

 

"Yeah, I know.  That why if this keeps up, I'll take it to Robby upstairs.  See what he thinks about his little prodigy whackin' off down here," Willy says, letting out a little grin.

 

"Hey, man, you're on your own."

 

While Tom pulls out his bagged lunch, Willy takes the first sip of his Orange Cinnamon Pineapple Coffee and reaches for the daily newspaper he picks up every morning to work.  Reading the newspaper has also become a routine for Willy.  He reads the headlines, peeks at the Sunshine Girl, shudders, and then turns to the horoscope page before reading the sports.  As he sips his coffee, he reads his daily horoscope.

 

Tuesday, March 30, 1999

 

Cancer (June 21 - July 22):  Don't reveal secret information about others.  Co-workers won't be willing to cooperate with you.  You will have to accomplish things by yourself.

 

Willy's face turns into one big frown.  The shock channels through his body, and he jumps out of his seat and stares at Tom.  His eyes are as wide as the oranges that were squeezed into his coffee.

 

"Will, are you all right?"

 

"What I just told you about Dean..."

 

"Yeah, yo-"

 

"Forget it!" Willy rapidly blurts out.

 

"Will, what's the-"

 

"Hah ba ba ba ba ba!  Just forget it!  Okay?  Jus' forget it... I never said it... Okay?"

 

"Huh!  No problem, man," Tom responds, freaked out by what just happened.  Willy cautiously returns to his seat, still staring at Tom.  Eventually, he returns to his paper, rereading his horoscope.

 

Co-workers won't be willing to cooperate with you.

 

"Hey, Tom, could you help me with the printer at my station.  It hasn't been working right lately," Willy asks with a big smile.

 

"Can't.  Got my own shit to do.  I'm sure someone else can help you."

 

The scowl reappears.  Willy's face is turning red.

 

"Hey... are you okay?"

 

"You sonofabitch!" He grabs Tom by the collar, pulls him over the table and begins to beat on his friend.

 

Nobody notices or hears the beating.  Afterwards, as Tom lies on the floor, his body bruised and battered, his face covered in blood, both eyes swollen shut, his mouth beginning to swell, Willy cleans up, grabs his paper and coffee, and motions to leave the lunchroom.  Just before he steps through the doorway, he spins around to face mangled friend, holds the paper up and points to it.

 

"Fine!  I guess I will do it myself, now, won't I?" Willy yells, showing a look of insanity.  He turns around and leaves the room, deserting his friend as he bleeds.