He fixated on his television, disgusted by everything he saw – the rolling of the oversized fuzzy dice, the beautiful women draped in gold glitter, the grinning game show host.
To think, this is society. A mass of people who delight in the annual sacrifice of one of their own. A shameless ritual to appease the unwashed masses.
He sank back into his threadbare recliner. Executing one randomly chosen member of the ruling elite? It changed nothing. Rent still climbed. Wages stagnated.
He loathed every minute of the spectacle.
Yet he watched every second knowing he would do nothing about it.
The Weekday One Hundred 