The ride home from the XStcher0481 battle was a short one. My mind raced with the next update to Condiment Man's Realm. It was to be a long tirade on the condiment wasting tendencies of those that dwell on America Online, it was to have animated GIFs, marquees, and flashing text to hold the attention of the internet dwelling masses. It was planned to be the pinnacle of my page designs. When the time came to vent my mind on the Hometown AOL page, I was horrified.
Site deleted for violating TOS.
-Steve Case
The words rang in my head like they had been typed in all caps. I kept scanning the page in a futile attempt the words might change and my condimenty page would reemerge. Shock became anger the more I realized Steve Case puts condiment justice in the same category as scrollerz and room disrupters. He is against my cause. Those against my cause must be defeated.
As the Condiment Computer was put into stand by, I spun out of the fake leather chair to find Alfredo. He stood with his hands to his side by the basement door. "Alfredo, watch the Condiment Cave," I turned from him toward the Condiment Plane, "I must go to Virginia. I must defeat Steve Case."
* * *
I landed the Condiment Plane down on the edge of the parking lot in front of the main entrance door. Through the window of the Condiment Plane, AOL headquarters rose from behind a full parking lot, despite it being eight o'clock at night. The building was surrounded by well manicured grass, through which were several paths leading to the building. Most lights were on in the building, behind each a cube with some hardworking individual staring into a monitor. On the roof rotated a massive searchlight spraying a blue AOL logo into the cloudless sky.
Something seemed amiss. There were no people. No employees strolling to or from their cars. No passers by. No cars traveling on the nearby streets. It was totally quiet. There was no wind blowing the trees. But something else seemed off. There were clouds when I flew in. I looked at the sky, cloudless above me, but off to the sides, beyond the campus, clouds covered the sky in a solid blanket.
With a press of a few buttons on the control panel, the exit door opened, and stairs folded out to the ground below. Without hesitation, I followed the stairs to the damp ground. It was cold outside the plane, the type of cold that chills from the inside.
Full of determination and annoyance, I ran through the corridor of parking spots to the main doors. Once there, I collapsed to my knees to gain my breath. The cold air burned my lungs. I threw my arm over my mouth, and let loose a few coughs. The possibility of a Condiment Coat, Condiment Mittens, and Condiment Scarf becoming additions to my costume seemed quite possible as I shivered outside the doors, rubbing my arms for warmth.
In doing so, I noticed the lady inside looked quite concerned, and she motioned for me to enter. My bouncing around stopped, and I jumped inside the lobby.
"Hey, what were you doing out there? It's cold!" her words dripped with motherly concern from behind the large wooden desk, on the front of which a large brass AOL logo was affixed.
The cold slowly evaporated away, but my nose ran like crazy. I pulled a tissue with aloe from my belt, and replied, "I'm here to see Steve Case, I wanted to be," ready to Condiment Kick him in the face, I thought, "prepared."
"Oh! You're here to see Steve Case, are you?" bewildered, and not sure how serious to take my reason for being there, she started to type into her computer. "You're name?"
"Condiment Man."
"No, no. Not your screen name, your actual name."
"My name is Condiment Man, a superhero from Overland Park, Kansas. Let him know I need to see him, now."
"Ok," she grew annoyed. She shifted her weight, messed with her hair, and her mouse clicks became harder. Suddenly, she stopped clicking. Her face turned a bit red, and she leaned in toward the monitor. "Well, Mr. Condiment Man, Mr. Case will see you now."
"It's just Condiment Man."
"Condiment Man, just take the elevator on the end there," she pointed to one of the elevators to my right it was the only one without an AOL logo affixed to the doors.
"Where are the stairs?"
"What?" Her eyes shot to the desk below, her hands nervously shuffled papers. "To the left. When you reach the top of the stairs, follow the hallway to the end. Once there you'll see a huge wooden door, open it."
"Thanks," was my reply, before walking across the lobby to the stairwell. Seven flights of stairs were uneventfully climbed, and when the top was reached, a long hallway stretched before me. Lining the walls on both sides were artistic renderings of Steve Case, the AOL logo, and screen names of AOL members. Below each name was a chatroom conversation in which the member took part, and below that was a gold plate engraved with the title of the accomplishment.
Jacketman5486 apparently won the title of Chat TOSser for having all of Hobby Chat report CH19869987 to TOS for swearing repeatedly. StinkyChes1563 was awarded the title Guide Guider for holding the record for the most successful guide calls, 194 in ten minutes. The last name along the wall was that of XStcher0418. I read the chat, which consisted mainly of me explaining to the room the reasons for proper condiment use, and XStcher telling me to stop scrolling and leave Fiber and Needle Art. She had a plaque below the chat room text, where she gained the title of Member of the Year, for confronting a chat disrupter both online, and in person.
Reading the text again in disbelief, the large door cracked open to my left, startling me as it did so. I crept up to the door, peeking inside. The room was dark, save for the light streaming in from the hallway. Pushing the door open further for a better view, the room was vacant, except for a large wooden desk three dozen yards away on the opposite side of the room, and a massive AOL logo filling the wall directly behind it. The logo's hurricane center glowed a pale blue, beckoning me into the room.
My hand fell from the door handle, my eyes transfixed on the glowing center, I entered the room.
Slam!
I snapped to my senses, drowning in darkness and the echo bouncing around the room. I spun around, finding the door had slammed shut. Jutting my hands out, I franticly searched for the knob. The darkness enveloped my hands, and I couldn't even see them in front of me. While sliding my right hand down the wall, I made hard contact with the knob. My hand curled around it, followed by an attempt to twist it. Failure. With both hands clasped around the metal handle, I tried twisting both ways, hard. It still refused to move. I was locked in the pitch black room with the glowing logo, which I think is flickering in brightness, laughing at me.
I took a step toward the logo, and a light flicked on above the desk. I couldn't see the source, just the pillar of illumination bathing the wooden desk and the chair behind it in white light. Nothing in the room moved, and the only sound was that of my breath.
Another step was taken toward the desk, and the chair collapsed silently to the ground, behind it stood a man in a light blue collared shirt, perfectly combed hair, with his back to me. He didn't flinch. Still as a mannequin, he looked off into the darkness.
When the third step was taken, he turned and looked me in the eye. I froze, looking him over. The shadows from the ceiling light hid most of his face, but a bright smile did manage to make it into the light. The top button of his shirt was undone, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows in a fake casual way. He put his arms in front of him, and leaned onto the desk. When his hands made contact, the room flashed on in blue lighting, which also didn't have a source. The room just seemed to glow.
"I suppose you are Condiment Man," his voice hollow.
I nodded. "Are you Steve Case?" my voice echoed back at me.
He removed his hands from the desk, walking to the right side of the desk, "That is correct, Condiment Man. So what brings you to my office this evening?"
"You know the reason," I explained while closing the distance between us, "You took down my website, you condiment waster lover!"
"Stop right there!" he screamed.
Not even a quarter into the room, I stopped.
"You violated TOS, multiple times. We have records of you wreaking havoc in chat rooms specifically Fiber and Needle Art. That Condiment Man's Realm site you have insights violence against those who use what you call too much ketchup. You provoked a member, and then started a fight in which you broke her hip! You are lucky we allow you to be a member of our community."
"It was a fight XStcher0418 brought on herself when she wasted barbeque sauce! A crime like that cannot go unpunished. She had what was coming to her, and by siding with her and deleting my website, you have sided with the condiment wasters, sir, and as such, you must be defeated."
"You? Defeat me?" He threw his hands into the air, "I am Steve Case! Master of AOL. Defender of those incapable of dealing with the internet. It is I who must defeat you, Condiment Man, and that will happen this very night!" He jumped onto his desk, with collapsed to nothingness beneath him. "Keyword: TOS" The center of the icon behind him glowed brighter, and an AOL window appeared in the upper left portion of the room. In the window the AOL Terms Of Service were outlined, some were bold and in red font. "Condiment Man," Steve bellowed, "Those lines of TOS highlighted in red, you have violated. It is because of these violations I must revoke your membership to America Online."
I ran at him, "Condiment waster lover!"
"Keyword: Chat," Steve screamed.
Erupting from the ground in front of me were lines of text within a window scrolling into the ceiling.
*** Welcome to Town Square 58 ***
SpunkyMonkey42: a/s/l check
Pnda05678: man, you guys suck lol
Chckneatr8665: rotfl
Roaekj1: 14/m/chicago
I slammed headfirst into Roaekj1's comment, knocking me back a few steps. The pain of his words filled my head, my forehead pounding. I rubbed the area, backing up to watch Steve laugh. The wall of chat prevented me from running at him.
Steve became hidden behind Alazjrk's a/s/l check, but his scream filled the room, "Keyword: Terris"
Off to the left in my peripheral vision, the word "Magislug" instantly appeared a foot or two off the ground. Confused, I looked at it, and it scrolled up for a paragraph to come in below, "The Magislug oozes with its feelers outstretched as is slowly slides across the ground. At the end of each feeler shines a slight sparkle of magic."
I looked back to Steve, and the paragraph vanished into the word, "Magislug." The word Xemnova48 appeared to my right. When I looked at it, it turned into a paragraph which read, "Clad in chainmail shirt, leather pants, and leather boots, stands Xemnova48. He holds a sword, and Flame Elemental enchanted shield." The paragraph scrolled up, and another paragraph appeared below, "Xemnova48 adjusted his helmet. Xemnova48 attacked Magislug. Xemnova48 has died, leaving a pile of gold and a sword." The word Xemnova48 disappeared, in its place hovered the words, "Pile of Gold" and "Sword."
Grabbing the word Sword by the S, I watched the word Magislug drift aimlessly around the room.
I circled to the side of the word Magislug, sizing up my attack. Checking to make sure Steve wasn't coming after me, I charged at the word Magislug. As I looked at it, it mutated into a descriptive paragraph again. I looked away before slashing the word Sword between the "a" and "s". I looked back at my foe, who was spewing paragraphs into the air.
"Magislug hit for 342 HP.
"You cut off Magislug's feelers!
"Magislug shrank into an ordinary slug!
"Magislug dropped Magic Feelers!"
The paragraphs disappeared, leaving only the words, "magic feelers." As I reached to pick up the words, something slammed into the back of my head. I collapsed on the word, rolled over, and Steve stood over me holding the bottom of an IM window.
He lifted the window over his head, and with gritted teeth and angry eyes, swung the IM window down onto me.
Thud. The window collided with my blocking arm, and dull pain spread as Steve again lifted the window.
"Raaa!" he screamed, putting his full weight into the swing.
I clenched the "S", and in a last ditch effort stabbed the word sword toward the minimize button. The "d" made contact with the button, and the window collapsed into the menu bar, and shot back toward the AOL logo wall, driving into Steve Case's head on its way back.
Steve fell backward, on his way he called out, "Keyword: Random!" A roulette wheel filled window appeared parallel to the ground behind Steve. As he landed on the window, the roulette wheel started to spin. Slowly, the clicking wheel came to a stop, when it did a window blinked into existence discussing Women's Health. Stretching between us from floor to ceiling were diet and exercise tips. I took a few steps back to take it all in, then turned left to run around the huge window to get to my enemy.
Instinctively, I jumped left and slid along the ground. As I slid I realized the window was falling toward me. It came down onto my legs.
I pushed the nearly weightless window up, and slid my legs out from under it while trying to find Steve. My answer came in the form of a window being slammed into the back of my head. I rolled forward a bit, and looked back toward Steve, now looking as fake casual as ever leaning on his elbow on a Buddy List floating a foot off the ground.
"Are you done yet?" Steve asked.
A single drop of sweat rolled down my forehead, which I wiped away with a shirt sleeve. Steve yawned while I weighed my options, then struck at the close button with my word Sword.
With nothing on which to lean Steve fell toward the ground as I jumped to my feet. As I lifted the word Sword for a blow to Mr. Case, he pointed off to my left. He quickly dragged his pointed finger toward me, following it was the chat room window, which Steve placed between us.
Frustrated, I stabbed the word sword at him through the spaces between lines of chat, but MrRXN2 responded to an a/s/l check causing Rockonaut's chat entry of, "i had a cat once&hellip it was soooo kewl lol" to jump up between the "o" and "r" of my word Sword. The sudden stop left my hand flying forward in a stabbing motion with nothing to stab with.
Steve's cheeks were flushed red as he climbed to his feet. "Prepare to be banned from AOL, Condiment Man," he whispered as I tried to pull the word sword from the chat room.
Checloma responded to an a/s/l check, followed closely by Manotara again checking the room for age, sex, and location.
The word sword scrolled closer to the ceiling with every entry in the room. After Checloma responded to Manotara's a/s/l check, the word Sword was out of my reach. My spirits sank further as I realized Steve had a window open with two columns, Active Members, and Banned Members.
He scrolled through the list, the A's, the B's. I had to think fast. My pulse raced. I jumped in one last futile attempt to get the word Sword back. Then it hit me, the words bag of gold and magic feeler. I franticly searched the room for the words. When I found them about thirty feet away, they scrolled up allowing a paragraph to form below them.
Bag of Gold
A tattered purple felt bag containing gold coins.
Magic Feeler
A feeler cut from a Magislug. It sparkles slightly from the magic contained within.
It took four running steps to make it to the words, I reached for them as I stopped myself. It was then Steve filled the room with the words I didn't want to hear, "Condiment Man, prepare to be banned for TOS violations!"
My hand passed through the Magic Feeler when I tried to grab it. The words flickered and stopped facing me. I turned to Steve looking very upset.
He looked up at the word Sword pressed firmly against the ceiling, preventing the chat room from scrolling. The chat room flickered, then vanished with the word Sword, Steve's TOS window, and the words Bag of Gold and Magic Feeler.
"Nooo!" Steve ran to the AOL logo, which had its triangle corners folding in to cover the hurricane center. As he reached the icon, the corners reached the center, and the hurricane stopped glowing.
The door behind me slammed open, I turned to watch a flood of engineers in white Polo shirts flood in with laptops and ethernet cable in hand.
In a wave, they moved past me to the wall by which Steve stood. Each engineer had the same blank yet determined look. Somehow I felt the look they had would be the same as a worker ant, not that I've looked at many ant faces or anything, though I did destroy a colony once for causing the wasting of a ketchup pile a while back.
I was eating outside the KenTacoHut overlooking Metcalf, with two ketchup packets squirted into a pile of my chicken finger wrapper, the perfect amount for KFC potato wedges. Which I wasn't looking, an ant snuck up to my wrapper, and climbed into the pile of ketchup. I graciously allowed the colony to have my ketchup for whatever food they have foraged. I finished my meal, and went back to patrolling the KFC lobby. After a few hours, I went back outside, and saw the ants didn't finish the pile of ketchup, they just wasted enough ketchup for a colony of ants to liven their food for three months. The colony was thusly destroyed by multiple Condiment Kicks, the queen banished to the realm between the pavement and my shoe for five minutes of stomping.
In my reminiscing I nearly missed Steve Case slide from the room. Following in quick persuit, I closed in on him just in time to watch him jump into an escape pod.
He waived, pressed a button, and he shot up a long tube. Smoke filled the hallway. I could barely see the walls in front of me. I felt along, until I was clear of the smoke. It was then I realized the building was becoming transparent. Below my feet were rows upon rows of cubicles and fat men waddling for the elevator.
I decided then to do the same. I took off down the hallways, past the pictures of XStcher0418 and Steve's other AOL buddies to the staircase.
Taking stairs one flight at a time, I made quick work of the stairs. The stairs below were nearly crystal clear as I jumped from the last one, falling through the floor, to the concrete three feet below.
The building was gone, people wandered around the now vacant space, confused. It was hard to call my trip a victory, but I can't really call it a defeat either. Steve and I stalemated for now. Our battle will continue, another day.