The moon shone bright against the night sky.
This bar is a popular place to go. Pong a prole approaches.
It smell so bad in here. Hey did you guys ever clean the floor? I see vomit on the floor.
EYY Pong. Whats Up?
Hate week is coming around the corner. Did you hear that the Inner party gonna make a real big inflatable balloon of Big Brother?
Ye. I saw them taking in helium tanks at the factory.
They are going to push every Oceanian into rigorous work.
Are you serious?
Most likely to build war machines.
Pong is going to be fine. We don’t have to go all the time. I heard the thought police are not going to check this time.
I Hate the thought police!!
Did you guys just say that you are going to not go to work? You know they are paying us as much as the Outer Party gets paid?
-shrugs- I don’t know. I will see about it.
The sun rose quickly over the mountain peaks.
-CLANG CLANG- Church bells
What is the sound? UH OH its time to go work.
Pong we have been walking for over 40 miles.
How long till we get there.?
Look ahead ! I think that is the place.
ATTENTION!! Everyone lines up and signs in.
The sign up sheet is on the oak table.
Awww man. I got assigned to make rubber out of sunflowers for the tank threads.
Dude you are lucky. I have to fix engines in the planes. Its going to get dirty.
Sunflower seed oil is being synthesized with secret chemicals in the machine to form liquefied rubber and poured to the tank treads production line.
Air flighter’s engine is being repaired.
A brunch of threads emerged from the production line and are all pilled up in the storage room.
When night came, it is hilarious to see how he could just reach out and the telescreen will reject his pay.
I don't even think they even use them because I work next to the airport and no planes are soaring out.
Hey Pong, what you think about today I cut myself like billions of times and fixed like around two-hundred plane engines.
Man….. the inner party is an illusion. I don’t think anything will work. One day it will fall and we will be part of the higher class.
As Bill walked into his cubicle, he glanced at his empty table. “The supplies are slow today,” he thought.
As he went to get some wine, he saw the red-headed woman that worked next to his cubicle. They made swift eye contact, but neither of them made any move to talk.
How is the rate of resources coming in today?” asked the (cafeteria man).
“Steady pace as usual. I have to say, we are doing pretty good. See you later.”
As he made his way out the door, Bill noticed people rushing into their cubicles. There were crashes of wine glasses and squeaks of chairs. He hurried back into his cubicle, not noticing the spilled wine on his overalls.
He had no change of emotion as he saw all the notes on his desk, while the tube emitted more by the second. Setting his glass aside, he sat down in his squeaking chair and began organizing the notes.
“New status from Miniplenty. We are gaining two percent extra resources. Give out the news now, Hate Week is coming.” said the board leader.
The report room was in a panic in seconds, as people rushed to their stations.
“Get up and get to your station!” yelled the leader to a member who had tripped on the piles of wires on the floor.
On the streets, everyone stopped their business as they heard the loud beep from the telescreen, “Prepare for Hate Week next week! Repeat. Hate Week, next week!”
“Alright, go prepare some prisoners and destroy their faces to look like the enemy. Cut their tongues so they won’t talk.” The commander ordered.
The guards stood outside, listening to the constant screams. Their faces displayed no emotion. They knew these two thought criminals would be publicly hanged as war prisoners during Hate Week.
Mike walked down the hall, looking for people who were against Big Brother. requirements, and listened to any comments that were thought crimes. At the last cubicle, he noticed the woman in it mumbling under her breath. He went close and heard her say, “Down with Big Brother.”
That night, Mike came into the woman’s apartment with other armed soldiers, arresting her and taking her to Miniluv.
The big Hate Parade was coming up in one week, so Jake had to work harder than ever. His job in the Ministry of Truth was to create propaganda materials for the parade and for other Hate Week activities.
Each sign was to either support Big Brother or to express hatred toward enemy. All the signs had to be created in the exact same manner, and absolutely no bugs or mistakes would be tolerated, not even one.
A sudden vision came into Jake’s head. He saw a list of names of the people in his department, but one name was missing. Jake’s comrade, Bob, had made a mistake during the preparations for the last Hate Week and was made an unperson.
The vision persisted; Jake saw himself getting lined up single file in a lush green field with a bar of soap in his hand. But then in the next instant he saw himself walking into a dark room with a large wooden sign painted in red that read “Shower Room.”
The door slammed and utter darkness came upon him. Then a hissing sound pierced his ears. Jake clutched his throat and gagged desperately for air. As quickly as it came, the vision went away.
Jake feared this fate more than anything else so, even with his back burning in pain and his eyes bursting with veins, he persisted to work, concentrating. A maid rolled around with a tray of Victory coffee and neatly placed a cup within Jake’s reach.
He accidentally knocked the coffee over and scorched the maid’s feet. The telescreen whirred “You are dead.”
Immediately two men wearing black busted in with gleaming machetes and tackled Jake to the ground.“Mr. Jake Simmons, you have violated code 53 of the intergalactic law. Room 66 is where you will go.”
Jake was sprayed by a sticky liquid and some force stuck him to the ceiling. An electronic voice sounded, “you will be here for three hours for violating the law.”