Sipping the Tea

(Names were changed.)

Though having only gained a few short hours of slumber the night before, the Night Warriors strode into their domain. Outside, it was warm with a hint of spring wafting through the air. Inside, the kitchens were hot and the air thick with with the smell of grease, but the warriors fought through it - they were there to serve.

Most every day they did this - Silent Carmen, small but stout-hearted; Black-Haired-One-of-Three-Male-Servers Harrison, quick and gregarious; lovely Elizabeth the Gentle; Harrison's lady, the fair Emily of Haunting Eyes; and Wisp, the Bright-Eyed-and-Bushy-Tailed-Ribbon-Wearing Lady of Laughter. They worked on the West Field, where the customers were rough and worn, where smoke drifted up from every table - no clear-lunged man or woman ever dared to step foot in those lands.

The West Field and the East Floor Night Warriors served every wanderer that passed through the doors with grace and efficiency.

It was not long after midday, however, when Black-Haired Harrison discovered something awful: The warriors who had served that morning had not completed their tasks, tasks that were meant to support the evening soldiers so that their work went smoothly, uninterrupted - in a single word, safely. In fury, our hero slammed the freezer door shut, the sound startling the other workers. He then strode away, wordlessly, from the empty containers that should have been filled with condiments for the evening workers.


Wisp was not laughing any longer, the light fading from her eyes as she peered into the empty bins. She herself had been meant to scout the condiment area, and now she was worried about what else had been left undone.

Lady Donna, who worked on the East Floor, cried out in anguish as she discovered that of the bleu cheese, yea, verily, that fine cheese, there was none to be found! Wisp moaned as she discovered that kids cups and lids had not been stocked either, and knew that surely all would fall behind in the afternoon with all the work that had to be done- that had been left undone.

"Damn me! Cried Matt the Stoic from behind the steamtable as he discovered that his tools had not been properly stocked. "It seems the warriors who came before us would rather commit murder than do their duty!"

How could they have been so betrayed?

Then, Harrison appeared, his eyes blazing with fury as he cast down a scrap parchment into the window for all to see.

"Here me now!" He cried out, and the mournful faces of the once-proud Night Warriors lifted in his direction. "Here me now, my friends, for we shall not suffer these injustices! We have been betrayed! Each night, when the hour is darkest, we fight to hold our ground, to please the people, and now those whom we trusted to help us - as we help them before we wearily retire - have turned their backs on us! Should the Lords whom we answer to not hear our plea for justice, such a revolt we will start that the walls of this building will tremble in our rage and the biscuits we cook will taste of resentment and the cornbread of revenge! TOO LONG we have come to battle to find that we carry more than our own load! No more! Here, upon these pieces of serving note- er, parchment, we will each state our grievances and sign, and then pass them on directly to the Lords of the House so that they may, if they are just, mete out the correct punishment to those who have failed us! Time and again we have tried to express our displeasure through the spoken word, individually - now our voices shall be united as one, in silence, as our pens cry out, 'JUSTICE' to a such volume that the calls of the heralds in the heavens shall be overcome, that the wails and the echoes of lashings in hell will be subdued. Come together now, and with the same ink that you upon your ground serve the people, sign this parchment! Speak out, write out! When this is completed, I will deliver the parchment myself, and we shall be heard. GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME...

Free biscuits, on the job."

With a roar, the warriors rushed forward, each of them pouring out from their hearts the long repressed anger they felt for the stress they'd been dealt.

"Never again, when I arrive at the noon-hour, must I find any sort of blackberry glob in my microwave again!" Shouted Wisp, and in her trademark bright, glittering green ink, she recorded each of the errors of the midday warriors' ways, and then with large sweeping strokes constructed her signature so that all would know how strongly she felt.

After everyone had signed, Harrison brought the parchment to our Lords.

Lord Mike read the parchment, and as voice after voice described each gruesome detail in their account, his face turned a peculiar shade of red, and the big man rose to his feet. His voice rumbled like thunder- so loud it was that even the bravest of men would feel a quiver of fear in his heart. With fire in his eyes he cried: "WHO WERE THE LIEUTENANTS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE OVERSEEING OF THE WARRIORS' TASKS?"

Only one came forward, the other having fled two hours ago. The one who came had few words- she only sputtered out foul excuses as the Lord glowered down at her with a less-than understanding gaze. She thought she would burst into flames from his fury, from her shame, then and there.

"TELL ME HARRISON," roared the Lord. "THE NAMES OF THE WARRIORS."

"I cannot," Harrison replied, his voice grim. "The names were long ago erased off of the list."

"SO BE IT. I WILL SEE TO THIS TOMORROW. NEVER AGAIN WILL THIS OCCUR, YOU HAVE MY WORD."

The joyous calls of the warriors filled the aisles, and the Western troupe clapped Harrison on the shoulder for his good work.

"I must say," Wisp shouted to him, the laughter back in her tone, "I've always wanted to be a part of a rebellion! It will go down in history books, to be sure!"

"To be sure! Harrison's Rebellion!"

Much merry-making followed, but the rebellion had not solved the problem at hand - there was still much work to be done in order to be prepared for the evening siege.

Such is the warrior-life of a Waiter, or a Waitress, whose task is to serve. Serve they will do, and proudly, but behind their dedication lies a need to be respected.

"It is such a pity I missed it," sighed the Lady Elizabeth to Wisp as she rolled her silverware dejectedly.

"Aye. 'Twas a powerful moment, Lizzy. Quite powerful."