Red or Green. Mr Thompson

         “Please sit Mister Thompson,” She said in a calm, soothing voice. I sat in a wooden chair, basic without cushioning or arm rests. She stood next to me holding a clipboard. Her narrow eyes peering at it occasionally glancing up to look at me. “You signed the disclosure form and waiver. Correct?”

         “Yeah...yes. When do I receive the cash promised?”

         “Compensation will be administered after the test,” She said eyeing the clipboard in her hands. She casually wrote something down.

         I looked around the room; wasn’t much to see. It was empty except for a table with something underneath a cloth, the chair, a door on the opposite side, and a camera in the corner which blinked red every few seconds.

         “Any questions before we begin?” She smiled at me holding the clipboard to her side.

         “Yeah… what’s with the camera?” I said glancing up at the red blinking light.

         “That is for observation purposes so our researchers can monitor the test results.”

         “And what exactly are they testing?”

         “I’m afraid I can’t answer that Mr. Thompson. If I told you it wouldn’t be a blind study.”

         “I see.” That agitated me, but if what they posted was true I was going to be paid well, and for only a small amount of my time.

         “Ok, we shall begin.” The petite woman pulled the cloth off the table and revealed a metal box with two buttons, one green the other red. “Now could you please hit either the green or red button?” She asked with the same closed mouth smile.

         “What will happen?” This more than peaked my curiosity.

         “Remember what I said Mr. Thompson about a blind study? It’s a test just hit either button,” She said so calmly. A strange calm, especially for someone who had to deal with a hundred people like me asking questions every ten seconds.

         I reached my hand out. It hovered over the green button. What did she want? I could see her from the corner of my eye. She was smiling and watching me, observing. She wants me to hit this button, doesn’t she? I slowly floated my hand over the red. Her smile faded. I went back over the green and slowly the smile returned. It was what she wanted. I glanced at the camera then too her. Fuck them. I slammed the red button and sat back, my arms folded.

         Her smile widened, almost to the point of showing one of her fine ivories, as she wrote something on the clipboard. “Very good Mr. Thompson, now if you could wait here for just a few minutes I’ll be back.”

         “Where are you going?” She walked out without answering. What had I done? What did the buttons mean? I starred at the camera its red light blinking on and off. I hate being watched. Why did I do this? It’s stupid. I should’ve stayed at home. I probably won’t even get anything. Where the fuck did she go? I swear she better come back with a check.

         I stared at the buttons. The green one was glossy. The light caught the finish and gave it a clear shine. The red on the other hand was a bit rougher. The finish stripped as if hundreds if not thousands of other hands had pressed the same button. They were studying behavior weren’t they? She knew I would go against the intention she conveyed to me. That sneaky bitch. She must be a damn actor. How else could she stay so calm? She knew exactly what I was going to do didn’t she?

         The door opened. The sneaky bitch walked in this time without a clip board or a check. She continued to smile. “Please go through this door to the next room where your compensation will be waiting for you.” She opened the other door and gestured for me to go through.

         I rose slowly. I looked up at the camera again. The light wasn’t blinking anymore. “Are we done?”

         “Yes. Now if you go into the next room your compensation is waiting,” She reassured me.

         As soon as I passed through the threshold into a hallway the door slammed behind me. It must have been a heavy door. No way could she have slammed anything that hard. At the end was a door. I walked to it. I reached for the handle and it opened. I pulled my hand back in shock. A tall, bald man in slacks and a button up shirt was staring at me with a smile, the same creepy smile as the woman in the other room. Not a single tooth showed.

         “Please come.” He waved for me to come in. I followed him. The room I entered was as plain as the one before except instead of having a table it had a TV monitor and a more comfortable looking chair complete with cushions and arm rests. “Please sit.” He pointed to the chair.

         “What about my payment?” I was tired of this shit.

         “Compensation will be given right after you watch a short video. Now please.” He pointed to the chair. I sat in it slowly it was comfortable in comparison to the hard wooden chair. I rested my legs on the inclined foot rest. I put my hands on the arms rests and sat back. “Are you ready?”

         “Yes. For Christ sake let’s get this over with I just want my money.”

         “Very well,” He said never losing his smile. He picked up a remote and hit a button. Suddenly metal clasps wrapped tightly around me hands and feet. I couldn’t move them.

         “Hey what the fuck?” I pulled but the clasps firmly held me to the armrests of the chair. “Let me go! What the fuck is this? I didn’t agree. Hey!” The bald man walked out of the room without a word. He was back in few seconds carting a strange machine with him. It was on wheels and taller than the man. He pushed it behind me and extended out a mechanical arm over my head. I looked up. A mix of blades and drill bits starred back at me. They were stainless steel. “What the fuck is this?!”

         “Compensation. Please watch the screen.” I looked down at the black screen. It flashed on. I was looking at the smiling women standing next to a table with a man in a brown jacket. He was sitting at a plain table. A box with two buttons in front of him. One was green, the other red.

         The bald man hit a button and the machine came to life; the drill bits whining and the blades sliding back and forth. “Holy Fuck!” I tugged at my restraints, pulling as hard as I could. My wrists bled as the restraints dug into my skin.

         “Let me go!”

         “Watch the screen,” The bald man said calmly.

         I glanced back but the sound of whining blades and drill pieces drove my attention else where.

         "The screen. Mr. Thompson," The bald man said louder and harder but still polite. I looked back and the man in the brown jacket’s hand was outstretched over the box.

         I slumped my head down as far as I could away from the machine, it slowly dropping. Inch by inch it was getting closer. The man in the room was looking at the camera. Staring straight at me, his hand hovered above the red button.

         “Don’t press it!” I screamed but only a bald man standing silently in the back heard me.