down with masswork!

A hot day, isn’t it? The 2:00 PM sun teasingly blasts its infernal rays and all because it’s a rather scorching sensation you get under such a hellish circumstance, you prefer staying inside your room hanging around with your co-residents than strolling in the warm university outskirts during a very unholy hour. Nonetheless, you Karlo, struck by a bizarre enthusiasm to labor on the dorm’s “co-curricular activity,” pretty well consider rendering your monthly mass work that’s to reduce the bushy Golden Dorado to a mushroom-shaped bonsai. That so, you approach the person in-charge and, practically equipped like Rambo with your scythe, rake, broomstick and trash bin, you proceed to your cleaning assignment midway of your dorm and the bachelors’ pad.
Like paid-for slaves, you along with your fellow mass workers are being briskly commanded again by that human-assuming penguin and are all in the sheer conspiracy of drowning him in a lake of yellowed leaves, cut weeds and grafted twigs. You annoyingly hear the master monotonously yell, “Karlo, bunutin mo lahat na nasa sukal!”, “O, ikaw, Karlo, magdamo ka dito!”, “Walang Lantern King-Lantern King sa akin: itambak mo ito sa basurahan!” “Fine!” you furtively retort, rubbing away the penguin’s acid saliva that has spattered on your unblemished skin. “I don’t carry with me the sash that guarantees my title, okay? Wala rin naman akong suot na korona, a!” You murmur bitingly while picking the fallen Talisay trunk which you nearly hurl straight into the S.A.’s (Singular Adversary) definite direction.
Sweating copiously from the temple down to your chest, you quietly sweep the tattered grass area while oblivious of the gals intentionally strutting to and fro only to capture a picture or your boyishness. You don’t care anymore than just offer finishing touches to your toiled-for tidying designation, as your head begins aching severely by the moment your job is almost done. Before you can hold it, the nut-cracking pain has traveled all over your torso, so you automatically stop enacting an early penitensiya. You seize your garden ornaments then start back to your room, leaving the notorious guard cursing you for improperly dumping the dirt you collected.
When the penguin continues provoking you amid your rest, you fling him out of the door and immediately visit the Infirmary’s on-duty nurses to report your delirium, only to be handed two long expired Diatabs tablet.