Master of Plagues by D. B. Reynolds (color ebook reader .txt) 📖

out. Stuart watched closely as recipients lined up close to the stage to receive their diplomas. The Steinhardt School of Culture, Education, and Human Development were eager to award their hardworking students their papers in applied psychology, the arts, communication, education, health, law, and music.
Cheering relatives and friends stood on their feet. Banners of congratulations and NYU paraphernalia took center attention. The deans of each school were about to introduce the class as a whole. Alumni representatives were selected in advance to award degrees in different categories. The loud speaker announced every single recipient. Smiles of joy and accomplishment were etched on the faces of all the graduates. They had every reason to relish the moment. The handing out of degrees began. One NYU graduate trailed another across the stage to receive that paper which signed off on their future.
The next recipient to be handed his diploma caught the immediate attention of Stuart.
The announcer spoke into the microphone and said, “Recipient of Master’s in Business Administration, Anthony Greenstein.”
Anthony grasped his diploma and arrogantly whisked it out at the crowd. If only Stuart could run up on stage and slap that cunning grin off his face. University President Whitney shook his hand, knowing good and well he exchanged handshakes with an egotistical young man.
“I’d like to take that diploma and shove it down his throat,” Stuart grumbled to himself. “No, I’ve got bigger plans for him.”
Several more graduates received their diplomas before another menace to Stuart stepped up on stage. It sickened him to watch another one of the egomaniacal eight get up there.
The announcer chirped into the microphone and said, “Recipient of nursing, Megan Piccirillo.”
She accepted her diploma and took a bow. A section of Yankee stadium erupted into loud cheers and whistles. She surely had a fan club to support her on her very important day. Her Italian family from Boston and New York were there to support her. Stuart had plans for her as well.
“I’d like to take that diploma and re-arrange her pretty face with it!” he sizzled, her deceptive voice from the motel in the Bronx still ringing in his ears.
The line proceeded and the next person to get their diploma didn’t sicken Stuart as much. The shapely, the gorgeous, the rather vindictive Dana Potts, she couldn’t wait to hop up on the stage.
“Recipient of journalism, Dana Potts,” the announcer told everyone.
Dana jumped up and down as she swung her arms side-to-side. Graduating from a top university was one big deal since no one in her family had ever gone to college.
More proud graduates felt the taste of success while they held their diplomas like keys to a treasure chest.
“Recipient of childhood education, Prudence Cundy,” the announcer said, taking a quick second swallow of water before moving on.
Prudence clutched her diploma with both hands. Like Dana, no one in her family history had ever graduated from college. Her proud parents cheered for their daughter from afar.
“Recipient of Master of fine arts in film, Taylor Warrwick,” the announcer said, President Whitney placing the curled paper into his sweaty palms.
Stuart glanced at Taylor while more of his blood boiled. “I’d like to take that diploma away and whack all of that acne right off his face.”
Cheers in the stands only got louder. The NYPD paid more attention to the rowdier ones. Abdullah Tariq Muhammad stepped up on stage wearing a small cloth across his gown which represented colors from his native Nigeria.
“Recipient of electrical and computer engineering, Abdullah Muhammad,” the announcer spoke, taking another quick swallow of chilled water.
A group of his fellow Nigerians occupied a momentous section of Yankee Stadium. They cheered vigorously for their fellow countryman. David Nguyen would fall in line to receive his diploma.
“Recipient of Juris Doctorate of Law, David Nguyen,” the announcer said, President Whitney handing over his diploma and then shaking his hand.
The last of the egomaniacal eight strided up on the stage.
John O’Connor beamed with pride as he approached President Whitney. The ceremony escalated with much intensity.
“Recipient of pediatric cardiology, John O’Connor,” announced the woman speaker, who, by now, was exhausted.
John felt exhilarated after being handed his medical diploma. Of the egocentric eight, he decided to challenge himself further by earning a medical degree in pediatric cardiology. Much respect came from his peers. He held a grip onto President Whitney’s hand tighter than any vice machine. The ceremony finally ended. Thousands of NYU graduates snatched off their caps and slung them high in the air. One might’ve thought the Yankees won another World Series.
Stuart earned his diploma in veterinary medicine, but refused to receive it publicly. In fact, he made sure his name was omitted from the roster of graduates. Receiving it in the mail was good enough. Before attendees left Yankee Stadium, a sense of order was maintained. People around him jumped to other seats. A mother and daughter screamed their lungs into near collapse.
The same colossal rat spotted by Stuart at the motel and inside the subway station somehow appeared at Yankee Stadium. Its eyes glowed like laser beams. Stuart seemed to be the only one who wasn’t afraid. NYPD officers and other added security came running after hearing the screams. Pistols and tasers were drawn upon sight. The rat stood up on its hind legs and an accented glow resonated from its body.
“That thing comes anywhere near me, I’m shooting it,” one of the NYPD officers assured his fellow officers.
“Why are its eyes glowing like that?” inquired another officer, his pistol aimed straight for the the rat’s eyes.
“Did that thing come from outer space?”
“Doesn’t look like its of this world.”
“How’d it get in Yankees Stadium? I’ve brought my kid to many Yankees games, yet I’ve never seen a single rat here at the stadium.”
“You’ve forgotten, we’re in the Bronx.”
Quicker than a flash of light, the rat disappeared. The officers thought their minds played tricks on them. Their pistols and tasers were withdrawn. To their amazement, Stuart wasn’t afraid to be within proximity of the monstrous rodent. Why was it so? Powers had been invested in him. The security team returned to police the gates to the stadium. Stuart coveted anonymity by hiding behind exiting crowds.
Huddled over in their own section near the baseball field was the egomaniacal eight. How proud they were to be college graduates in promising careers. How prouder they’d become after going into the respective professions and earning top dollars. Pictures were snapped once they picked out a pose. Stuart hid behind one of the wide beams used to construct part of the new Yankees Stadium. Listening closely, he overheard Anthony tell the others how earning their diplomas called for a celebration. He staked out a nice bar and grill in the more ritzy section of Manhattan. Stuart was sure to follow.


CHAPTER—9

GREAT TO CELEBRATE

Anthony Greenstein and the rest of the egomaniacal eight arrived at The Watering Hole Bar and Grill on East 19th Street there in “Money Making Manhattan”. Anthony showed his diehard generosity by having a stretched black limousine pick everyone up from the graduation ceremony at Yankees Stadium. All eight were thirsty souls, thirsty for some alcohol, strong enough to leave them drunk out of their minds.
The bar crammed in the usual crowd of college students and Manhattanites. Megan and the others reached into their purses and pockets for their credit cards and cash to pay for their drinks and meals. Anthony gestured to his fellow graduates how he’d pay for everything. Their eyes gained approval after he flashed his platinum Master Card with a twenty-thousand dollar credit limit. Straight and mixed drinks of every kind were handed over by the attentive bartenders.
Shielding his identity with a menu in the back of the crowded bar was Stuart Duffelmeyer. He watched as the egocentric eight slammed down mixed drinks and beers, while tastefully dining on nachos, buffalo wings, and potato skins.
Anthony held up a bottle of frosty beer and said to the others, “I’d like to propose a toast to all my fellow NYU classmates who’ve now received their degrees. Now, it’s time for us to make the big bucks and squash the small people who are nothing but peons in our world.”
The others held up their drinks and bottles of beer. Clanking glass echoed throughout the congested bar. How arrogant of Anthony to make such a statement. In his own selfish world, it was easy to hurt others when he didn’t feel no pain.
Megan held up her sweaty glass of brandy and coke. “Guys, I’d like to propose a toast to you for working so hard to get your diplomas. Anthony’s right, we’re going to make the big bucks and crush the small people who obstruct our path. They don’t deserve what is rightfully our’s.”
Another toast took place amongst the group of self-centered and conceited jerks who looked down on the less-fortunate. Stuart moved the menu down and half his face became visible. Every bragging word coming out their mouths resonated back to him. A pain rung in his ears from listening to them belittle others. When a great philosopher stated how what goes up must come down, Stuart wouldn’t rest until all of eight of them came down.
Dana sipped from her glass of vodka and sprite after dunking a chip down into the warm nacho sauce. “Hey, did any of you guys see Stuart at the graduation?”
Prudence took bite into a spicy buffalo wing and wiped her mouth. “That’s strange, he wasn’t in the ceremony to receive his diploma.”
“I think we all know why he didn’t show up for graduation,” Anthony mentioned to his posse, nursing a chilled bottle of German beer.
“Would it have something to do with a mechanical sex doll?” Taylor joked, nibbling on a tender potato skin.
“You’ve got big jokes, Taylor,” Megan said, the alcohol taking slow effect. “But they’re the jokes that we all like.”
“Wonder if that nerd will ever get laid?” John asked with perplexity, his glass of gin and grapefruit juice altering his coordination.
“Didn’t Stuart get his diploma in veterinary medicine?” Abdullah inquired, working on his fifth beer.