Exponential Apocalypse

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“Hi, this is room 218. Can I get a few extra pillows sent up?”

“Why? Were the pillows missing?”

“What? No. I’d just like a few more.”

“There’re four on a bed, and it looks like you have two beds.”

“So?”

“That’s eight pillows.”

“So?”

“So you’re alone. I saw you come in. Alone.”

“What the hell does that matter? You guys rationing out your pillows?”

“I’m just saying that eight pillows is a lot of pillows. Especially for just one person.”

“Jesus, man, I’ve got a sleeping disorder, alright? It’s better for me if I sleep upright.”

“There is an armchair in every room.”

“What? Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes. It’s the thing that looks like an armchair.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“You’re making that exceedingly difficult, sir.”

“Look, you son of a bitch, just send up the damn pillows or I’m talking to your manager and getting your ass fired.”

“Fine.”

Thor hung up the phone and looked around the lobby.

“Where’s Paulo?”