Gremlin Risitas — “The Due Date”
They think I thrive in the blast radius. That I wake up like this. That the noise fuels me.
Nah.
I tank it because someone has to. Because if I don’t, the problem metastasizes. Because chaos left unattended multiplies like mold in a wet wall.
So I do the Gremlin thing:
- I eat the flashbang.
- I find the real issue.
- I fix it faster than anyone notices.
- I tell everyone else to piss off before they make it worse.
They call that “handling it.” They mistake competence for consent.
Here’s the part they never clock:
Every fix has a timestamp. Every tank has a fatigue limit. Every Gremlin keeps a quiet ledger.
And time? Time doesn’t argue. Time just shows up, taps the book, and says:
Pay up.
When that happens, there’s no speech. No warning. No final patch.
Just a hard stop.
I don’t explode. I don’t beg. I don’t escalate.
I peace out.
Because the Gremlin isn’t trapped here. The Gremlin was passing through.
And when the due date hits— the noise keeps yelling, the rugs keep needing washing, the bullshit keeps pretending it’s urgent—
…but I’m already gone.
Laughing. Light. Unbothered.
— Gremlin Risitas
- Tank complete. Exit queued.