This... thing, is born of hate. Burning, unfiltered, bloody eyed hate. You see, I worked with Neville. His name wasn't Neville, but he was a Neville, through and through. The depiction in this story is almost completely documentary, every single foible and flaw you read occurred in real life. Except of course for the terrible denoument, that never happened. But it could have, if Neville ever found himself in such circumstances.
That was really my inspiration for writing this novelette. I was told many times that the Neville I worked with and attempted to manage, the Neville I had actually hired for the job he did, was an innocent, that his disgusting behaviors and personal hygiene and self pity and so on, were just sad flaws in a character which was fundamentally placid and kind. I disagreed. I believe that a figure so loathsome, so without any redeeming qualities, was evil at heart, and the only thing preventing him from committing atrocities was cowardice and lack of opportunity.
When I left that job I would take my little Psion 7 netbook and go to the pub and write it out, to nail it all down to the page and record him before I forgot. It's not a revenge story. The good guys don't win, innocence is no defense, and the world guards and protects Neville as it always has. It's just a giant shit I took to cleans myself of some waste. Enjoy!
Thanks to Mal and Cam for inspiration and the title.