KINGTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYPE AND JESSSSSSSSSSSSSSWRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITE PRODUUUUUUCTIONS!!!! THE BEST TEAM SINCE PB n J!!!! Market Minds: Paper or Plastic? Are you ready to experience an RPG story like never before? You’ve faced evil corporations, brutal wars, fallen angels, corrupt politicians, homicidal mages, super villains, and even actual concepts brought to life BUT now you face the greatest challenge of your role-playing lives…….THE AVERAGE AMERICAN CONSUMER! That’s right. Welcome to The Shop'N'Drop! One of the biggest retail stores in America known for their abundance of various supplies, from housewares to food to toys and games but also their sub-par customer service and from past employees their apparently poor working conditions. Which brings us to our current situation. The year is 2000 and the Shop'N'Drop just outside of Great Barrington Massachusetts is going through major changes. Most of its current employees quit due to massively unsafe working environment and some can be found protesting outside the store, but as far as the health department gathered Shop'N'Drop is a safe and fine place to work. And please note that bribery was in no way associated with the investigation or the department’s decision. In fact there are only two people working on a consistent basis currently. Jack 'The Big Man' King the superstore’s totally fair, humble and not at all corrupt manager. The second is Gary Garrison, a former military integrator on various black sites (But that's classified…..which is why he tells everyone). Whatever military background he came from doesn't play much into his work ethic. Garrison can normally be found asleep in the various places or doing tactical raids against the food department. That’s where YOU come in. Yes YOU! The player aka Shop'N'Drop's new employee. Be you a teen who needs a job, a slacker who never had a job or a loser who’s still working retail in his forties, then please send in your application! Shop'N'Drop This superstore has anything and everything you want, all separated for your convenience, we will go over each department from largest to smallest. Housewares- The housewares department is by far the largest section of the store. Its sections aisles are covered with pots, pans, plates, blenders, tools and almost every sort of home appliance you can name and plenty you’ve seen on infomercials. Half of the middle section of the place is also a part of housewares but operates as the furniture section, with wonderful mattresses, desks, couches, chairs and even work out equipment. Takes up the front of the store plus aisles 1-6 Food- This is of course the second biggest part of the store with its own subsections, Vegetables and fruits, sodas and waters, cold foods, canned food and of course the bakery and butchers. These take aisles 7-10. Both the housewares and food sections obviously require more then one employee to handle. The sections below are the smaller parts of the store but still an amazing asset to the beast that is Shop'N'Drop. Pets- The pet department is the store's answer to pet palace which shares the town center with them. The pet section is found in the far back left end of the store. Small as it might be two people are normally needed to manage the animals (which are just gerbils, birds and fish) They also have most common pet foods and toys for the animals they carry, but also dogs and cats. Toys and games- This is the aisle in the back of the store that’s smack dab in the middle of the pet department and electronics. Three shelves. One shelf full of baby dolls, action figures and random play time toys (such as the jump ropes, ball bin, and LEGOS) second shelf in the aisle is bikes and of course the famed wall of board games and cards are last. Electronics- The department in the back of the right side of the store, its about the same size as the pet section but if you like video games or need the newest console of year then this is the place for you. CD's, DVD's and games are plenty, though whoever works in this part is best to have electronic knowledge or not......up to you when the customer gets testy. Barrington Town Center! Shop'N'Drop's rivals are right next door in this cul-de-sac like shopping center are various fellow stores that specialize in similar or different business practices. Counting Shop'N'Drop there are seven stores in total. Rotating left from SND in this order are: Pet Palace- A store that not only sells gerbils, birds, and fish but also cats, dogs, mice, ferrets and plenty of other furry friends. Phillips FatFox's Pizza- A Chuck E Cheese rip off that is filled with creepy animatronics but much are the depressed parents and snot nosed brats running about the place. Known for their disgusting pizza, spoiled brats, fist fights with parents and creepy vans being driven by even creepier dudes from time to time. Glossy Beauty- A make up shop filled with gossiping women and men who love learning about the affairs just as much as they love applying makeup and doing hair. Ma and Pa's- Ma and Pa's is the oldest and smallest store in the town center, best store if you be needing a pack of gum and non big business customer service. Of course Ma and Pa hate each other with a passion like no other and are often arguing with one another in front of their customers. They also have a hatred of young people and stores like Shop'N'Drop and The Mighty Narwhal. Blockbuster: Yeah......just Blockbuster The Mighty Narwhal- The only store in the center that can rival SND in size and consumers…..in fact Narwhal is normally ahead. Not only do they have better prices then and many of the same things SND but a built-in Movie Theater and sizable clothing section. Shop'N'Drop Employee Application Form Name: Age: Appearance: Position applied for (specific department, janitor, retail, stocker, ect.) : Qualifications or skills: Previous employments: Do you desire full time or part-time: Education history: Have you ever been convicted of a crime? If yes, please explain: Special interests or hobbies: Miscellaneous info: RULES You will be playing as an employee of Shop 'N' Drop but if you want other roles and stuff feel free to PM We are open GM's for subplots just PM them and we will make it work! Don't post till first post is up Feel free to slack off on the job if you want Don't control others characters with permission GM's word is law as is the store's manager but feel free to ignore the store manager if you want to Be friendly OOC but act how you please in character No auto hitting or attacking We are not responsible for any misfortune that might befall your character And remember "Customer is always right."
First Day On The Job (Except Garrison) Garrison let out a long yawn, running a hand through his hair before placing his bowler hat back on. Another day for minimum wage pay. That was how it had been and hopefully how it always would be, he’d just have to make a good impression on the new employees. The longer they'd stay...the longer Shop ‘N’ Drop had a chance. And as long as Shop ‘N’ Drop had a chance he could keep eating for free and avoid any sort of HARD labor like he’d been doing four years ago. The mere thought of those days that weren't that far in the past still sent a shiver down his spine. But for the shivers he couldn't lie, his last day on the job watching one of his co-workers get hit by a car and crushed by a bunch of old wood was pretty funny. So funny in fact Garrison was chuckling openly as he walked through the double slider doors. It was exactly 6:00 AM in the morning, which meant another two hours till opening time. Jack in all his infinite wisdom had demanded Garrison be here to greet the fresh meat and give them an overview on their tasks. -------------- A silver car covered in animal related bumper stickers was the first to pull into the parking lot. Lydia hopped out of the driver's seat, squinting at the morning sunshine. Her heart fluttered in a mixture of anticipation and nerves as she stared at the large building she'd see everyday from this day forward. It was an odd feeling. A milestone of sorts. She'd been pushed into adulthood since she was sixteen, but this job was different; the biggest one she'd have yet. At least she didn't have to dress up too much. Lydia tugged down her red Stop'N'Drop t-shirt as she made her way to the front entrance. The sliding doors announced her presence and she took a calm breath, stepping inside her new job. “Welcome.” A tired voice greeted her but even worse was the terrible excuse for hair the man wore under his 18th century Riddler hat. "I assume you're here for the job." He paused for a moment. "Or you've gone to great lengths to rob this place." Lydia smiled awkwardly at the man. "I'm here for the job and...who are you exactly?" Garrison glanced over his left shoulder and then right before letting his eyes drift back to her. "Me?" "I'm pretty sure we're the only ones standing here." Lydia said, nodding. He looked around the store. "Well what do ya know?" He nodded back. "I'm Gary Garrison but most people just call me Garrison, I keep things together around here. I'm the longest employee this place has had." The man took a step closer to her. "Which means I'm kinda like your boss." "I thought Mr. King was the boss." Lydia said, eyeing him skeptically. "That's what I heard from Cristal at my interview." "He's the manager, as in the manager who is rarely here. But me?" Garrison smirked. "I been working here the longest which gives me seniority over you and the rest coming into today,.....which section you in anyway?" He yawned. "Let's make this quick, was hoping to catch some sleep on one of the beds in my section." Lydia coughed to keep from laughing. "Sleep? But, this is work!" Garrison’s smile never faded. “The place doesn’t open for another two hours, what kinda work you doing here?” He asked again this time talking slower. “Like...... what .....position?” "Oh, I'm here for the animals," she said. "Pet department girl at your service!" “Huh.” Garrison snorted. “That’s ironic.” "What is?" "I've actually eaten animal before." He responded. "Anyway, can you at least call me Charlie while you work here?" "Sure...but, why?" Lydia said, moving further away from him. "I thought you said your name was Gary." "Garrison." He corrected. "And because I'm gonna be Charlie and the rest of you kids that applied are going to be my angels. I think it would be good for employee morale if you were all like my little angels." "You don't have to worry about me, I'll get my work done with no trouble." Lydia said as she started walking. "Mind showing me what I need to do, Charlie?" Garrison motioned for her to follow along and the two walked towards the back of the store. The store was massive certainly the biggest one in the town center, shelves stacked high with items for daily and not so daily human activity or consumption. It was the peak of American culture so to speak, all materialism and no soul but the place was surprisingly well kept for the most part considering the lack of employment. The two came to the pet department; unlike the rest of the store this section was blue lit, illuminating the large gold fish tank that faced the register to the left side of the room, parallel to the gerbil and bird cages. Lydia gasped at the sight. "Aw, cute!" She rushed over to the gerbil cages and bent down to take a peek at them. Some were snuggled together, asleep inside a little plastic house. "So, what do I do first?" she asked Garrison. "I don't know.....I never come in this section." Garrison said. "Just do like animal stuff I guess, I mean I think there was a book around here about how to feed them but I think that went when we had that toilet paper shortage." Garrison's eyes got distant. "Ahhh what a week that was......anyway just make sure they don't die and like handle that register, wait do you know basic math? I think you have to know that to use the register." "Yep, I took every kind of math in school." Lydia said. "And about the other stuff, I'm sure I'll figure it out. Thanks!" "Sweet." Garrison said. "Man you've got quite the worker's attitude, that's something we don't see everyday here......because I'm the only one who works here and the only thing I like to look at are the insides of my eyelids." "Well, you better get used to hard workers, Charlie." Lydia went around the register and leaned against the counter. "I have a good feeling things are going to change." --- Garrison left Lydia to her fur duties; it remained beyond on him why those Peta people loved their animals so much. Kinda weird actually, he wondered for a moment if Cristal and Jack had hired one of those people who would marry a goat if given the chance? Garrison's wonderfully disturbing train of thought was interrupted by the opening of the sliding doors, must of been employee number 2! He put on his brightest smile and with gusto spoke, "Good morning my angel!"
Yet Garrison was wrong, the doors opened and a very shady guy entered, really shady, hands in pocket, wool hat, looking everywhere, c'mon, a total cliche! The guy got close to Garrison and pointed him with a gun he produced from his shady pockets. “All right, all the money, now!!!” Exclaimed the man. However for an instant lights, went out, sure it was 6 AM and nothing changed, the place was still illuminated, it was still eerie. And when lights came back a mysterious figure appeared behind the burglar, or more likely, it run from wherever it was hidden and was now behind the burglar. Garrison’s eyes widened as he looked behind and of course the burglar turned his head and then he saw it. Spoiler A very tall, imposing figure dressed in a fish suit, a very bizarre sight, yet what was more weird about the figure was that in his right arm he was carrying a frozen swordfish. The figure glanced at the criminal, or more likely it seemed as it was doing it, it wasn’t clear if the suit actually had holes for the eyes, yet still it cocked its head. “What the fu…” was about to say the low criminal however he couldn’t finish that sentence. Because with a fast movement, faster than the eye could see, the figure waved the swordfish against the man, a clear cut through his abdomen and torax. The man fell groaning in pain, however, the mysterious figure pay no attention to it and using its free arm he lifted the man by the collar, walked to the door and threw him away. The confused man could only twist in pain yet he managed to stand up and run as fast as he could. On the bizarre man’s hands now a disarmed gun lied. Garrison obviously confused found no words to say however as if the “fishman” figured his words he put the swordfish on the floor and took a white small blackboard and a pencil from a shelf and quickly wrote on it. “Worry not, I’m your ally.” “I had arrived to follow my duty, to guard the meat secured in the cold storage lockers.” “Or perhaps I should said, I’ve been here the whole time. I borrowed one of the swordfish, I’ll return it now to its sacred vault” The man then passed through the confused man, heading to the cold storage however he stopped midway after hearing Garrison’s question. (Or more likely he idealized that Garrison asked him something) He quickly wrote again on the blackboard. “I don’t bear a name, Leviathan Warlock, you can call me like that. I expect a lot from you Lord Garrison.” And then he left the scene
Everything is Perfect The day started out perfect. The sun was shining brightly. The weather was the optimal temperature. The coffee was just right. Bale breathed in a deep breath and let it out with a sigh as he stared at the doors of Shop'n'Drop. Yes. Perfect. His red Shop'n'Drop shirt (which was wrinkle-free) hugged his chest in just the right areas showing off a well muscled chest, his black shoes were scuff-free, his hair perfectly combed, the stainless-steel coffee mug in his hand was polished and shining. It was 6 am on the dot! Yes...everything was perfect. Bale took a step forward, the doors to the store slid open! And...he staggered back as a man with a tear in his shirt ran off screaming something about a crazy sword's-fish fisherman. Odd...but it didn't ruin his perfect day. Bale stepped into store, a wide smile on his face. His eyes rested on Garrison, a man who looked as if he'd had one too many beers and too much sleep. Was this supposed to be his boss? No...too unprofessional. Perhaps a co-worker. Not exactly a perfect co-worker...but best not to be rude. Bale stuck a hand out to the man. "Name's Bale Durnham. I'm the new stocker, shelf-keeper, and what-not. Are you...Mr. King?" He asked hesitantly.
Garrison’s greeting smile nearly faltered once the entire bizarre scene with a man in a fish costume unfolded. ……….. Weird. Well weird things were always happening on this side of Great Barrington, in fact he’d noticed most people in this area tended to keep to themselves, still though it wasn't everyday that a customer in a fish suit stabbed a burglar. "Name's Bale Durnham. I'm the new stocker, shelf-keeper, and what-not. Are you...Mr. King?" Garrison’s attention from the insanity that just unfolded was shattered into a billion tiny pieces when a young man entered the store. He was silent for several seconds once the youngster reached his hand out, Garrison simply stared. His grey eyes giving him the once over......twice over. "Wellll." Garrison said his face brightening. "I can tell you I’m not King, he’s not in right now you well-toned devilishly handsome man.” Instead of shaking Garrison simply poked Bale's bicep. "Those puppies will do amazing for stocking."
"All right, all the money now!" Chunk heard from the janitorial closet. Great. First day on the job and someone was already trying to rob the place. Whoever the guy was, he must have been pretty desperate to come in demanding money before the place was even open, before it had even had a chance to collect cash from its first customers. Who the hell would do that, anyway? A drug addict, probably. A drug addict who wasn't focusing on how much money he could get out of the store, but on how much dope he could buy with what little cash he got. What a freaking idiot. Before Chunk could exit the closet and see what was going on he heard a commotion, then another man saying, "“Worry not, I’m your ally.” Well. At least they'd resolved the conflict. It was just as well. Chunk hadn't wanted to get involved. Besides, what could he have done, anyway? Rush the perp with a broomstick while he got shot in the face? Fuck that. Chunk filled a mop bucket with water before adding soap and bleach. As soon as the voices receded and the coast was clear, he slipped out of the closet undetected and quietly made his way to the other end of the store. He'd do his job. But he didn't want anything to do with the the other employees.
Georgette checked her long brass pocket watch clipped to the pocket of her velvet black waistcoat. It fitted nicely over the red t-shirt and stopped her looking like a cookie cutter employee. It was smart, right? She rolled her eyes at the sight of the time. 6.20am. Six-fucking-twenty. They were lucky she was here at all, the time it takes to get herself ready and all. She hopped off her pale blue Vespa and took a few minutes to sort out her helmet hair, then wielding her eyeliner like a sword she touched up the regal Egyptian style flourishes to her eyes. Finally, with a last adjustment to the red uniform, she marched across the parking lot and into the store. She was only half an hour late. Maybe, she thought as her eyes scanned the vast areas split like a beehive, she could just slink into a department and start fiddling with the stock, and nobody would notice.
Garrison took his eyes off the hunk but still continued poking at the man’s muscles, yet his focus was now on the woman who’d just entered, he titled his head at her or precisely tilted his head at her HAIR! "Excuse me...." Garrison once again shot his best smile. "But that is a very wonderful hair style, reminds me of cotton candy." He said to Georgette. Garrison looked at Bale again. "Isn't it lovely?" He looked between the two. "I think Bale here would like to take a bite of your hair Ms. Whatever your name is."
"Excuse me...." Garrison once again shot his best smile. "But that is a very wonderful hair style, reminds me of cotton candy." He said to Georgette. Garrison looked at Bale again. "Isn't it lovely?" He looked between the two. "I think Bale here would like to take a bite of your hair Ms. Whatever your name is." "Uh, no. I would not like a bite of your hair. Not to say it isn't...erm...pretty." Bale said catching himself. He gave Garrison a slight glare as he continued to poke his arm muscles and took a large step away from him.
Georgette froze. It was bad enough she hadn't been able to sneak in, but she'd walked straight into one guy fondling another guys arm. Still, she couldn't stop her eyes lingering briefly on the rippling biceps bulging out of Bale's shirt. She'd fondle them too if... She spluttered, her throat suddenly very dry. Stop staring and say something she scalded herself. She turned awkwardly to the older guy who also seemed fascinated with Bale's muscles, though clearly wasn't afraid to show it. “I like your hat,” she said eventually, but didn't smile. It was still too early to smile. “So...anyway” her eyes began to slip back to the biceps. “I'm Georgette Mason. I was told to start this morning, can't remember who I'm reporting to or...what I'll be doing.” Apparently, lack of caffeine and a muscle bound man first thing caused her brain to stop making full sentences. “If you could just point me at a manager?” she sighed helplessly.
Garrison paid no mind to Bale backing away from him and simply responded with gusto to the both of them. “The manager, Mr. King is rarely available and left me in charge of guiding you all.” He clapped his hands. "You all look like a fine bunch of young people, much more enthusiastic looking about the job then the last batch." He gave a loud laugh. "I am Gary Garrison but you may call me Charlie as I'd like us to be a TEAM! And what was a better team then Charlie's Angels." He tipped his hat at the two. "Any questions?"
"What better team than Charlie's Angels," Chunk heard Garrison say. Suddenly, and without warning, the breakfast burrito he'd eaten before arriving decided to make an appearance. Doubling over, holding onto his stomach for dear life, he vomited on the gleaming white linoleum floor. Again and again he wretched until every ounce of partially digested food had been purged. Wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, he took a deep breath and grabbed the mop handle. "Good thing I'm the janitor," he croaked, wringing out the mop and cleaning up the mess before anyone could see what had happened. The last thing he needed was for Garrison to think he wasn't well enough to work. He'd gone three months without a paycheck before landing this job, and the lot rent at the run down trailer park where he lived was overdue to the point that the manager, a fat, middle aged woman who wore short shorts in spite of the fact that no one was interested in seeing her thunder thighs, was threatening eviction. As if that weren't bad enough, just last week a stripper named Bambi who lived three doors down had stolen his car after he'd left it idling in his driveway. When the cops finally found his old Caprice the passenger side door was missing and the steering wheel had been ripped off. Now, with no car and no money to fix his car, he'd resorted to taking the bus, often with weird people who stared at him and made faces while talking to themselves. To say that his circumstances were unpleasant was an understatement. Life sucked a goat's nuts. But this job was going to turn his bad luck into good. Obviously, he would have to show Garrison that he was a responsible, respectful, trustworthy employee. But that would be no problem. Chunk had never been the type to show up late for work, do a half-assed job, or slack off. He would prove his worth. And, after a few paychecks, he would use the money he'd saved to put a down payment on a better ride--one that didn't need a new door or steering wheel, one that didn't burn through a quart of oil every week or send up a cloud of smoke every time he started it. After cleaning up the last of his puke, Chunk went to through a set of double doors at the back of the store and found a sink to dump the dirty mop water. Hopefully the rest of the day would go smoothly.
"Any questions?" asked Garrison. Georgette couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, this guy didn't seem to care she rocked up late, at least not this time. She shifted her weight from one hip to another, about to speak, but heard a violent sloppy wretch from across the store. She paused, uncertain whether she should look or not. As it stopped, she went to speak again only to be muffled by the sound of more retching. If this kept up, she'd be sick too. She pressed her lips together and forced a queasy smile at Bale. Finally, it seemed to stop and Georgette took a deep breath. The short and round man who had brought forth the volatile display busied himself clearing it up. “Nice to see people round here clean up after themselves...” she said with a raised eyebrow, and then cleared her throat. “Can I go get a coffee?” she asked Garrison. “I'm suddenly quite hungry.”
There are few places more peaceful than a department store after hours. The empty aisles. The silent shelves, overflowing with boundless promise. So much money, just waiting to be made. So many products waiting to be devoured by the ravenous American consumer. And deep within the fetid bowels of this sleeping giant, lies the holy of holies, the beating heart from which fresh blood flows through these cavernous aisles: the break room, a sanctuary where employees can go to regain fifteen minutes of precious sanity in what was otherwise a madhouse. The Shop’N’Drop break room sat calmly awaiting employees, its vending machines quietly humming, counting metaphorical sheep. A coffee maker percolated on a counter next to the dual refrigerators, where someone’s two-week old lunch was beginning to sprout a fine patch of mushrooms. The fluorescent lights buzzed with anticipation, except for one, which had been conspicuously flickering. At exactly 6:01AM, the failing light bulb finally went out. One last flash, and then it was no more. But, above the ceiling tiles, something stirred. Rats? A swarm of cockroaches? Shop’N’Drop certainly had its fair share of those, but no, this intruder was no mere insect. One rectangular ceiling tile slid away and a hand reached down, wielding a screwdriver, and began to undo the screws holding a section of ceiling in place. A minute later, a two-foot by four-foot hole was opened up and a pair of legs dangled through, wearing skinny black jeans and a dirty pair of Converse sneakers with undone laces. Carefully, the intruder repositioned herself, as if preparing to drop down, ninja-style, into the silent breakroom. First one foot, then the other. This should be easy, right. Just land on that table, a few feet to the left. Get ready. One…. Two… “FUCK!!” Something shifted and Ivanna crashed through the opening, taking five ceiling tiles with her, hit the table, bounced off the chairs and spilled onto the floor. About thirty feet of wires and networking cable came spooling down after her. She narrowly rolled aside as the long tube fluorescent bulbs fell from their metal holder and shattered on the floor. She lay on the cold floor for a moment, then muttered a string of curses in unintelligible Russian, got up, and brushed the bits of glass and drywall off of herself. She calmly grabbed her fur coat from the rack in the corner, put it on, straightened the plastic nametag pinned to her chest –hi, my name is “Fuck You”-- poured herself a cup of coffee, and walked away. The janitor could take care of the rest. That’s what they (barely) paid him to do, right? But she paused outside the break room door and thought for a moment. Maybe the name tag wasn’t such a good idea. It seemed like a good idea, at 2AM, when she’d broken into the store and began rewiring its entire security and surveillance systems, integrating them into a program she’d designed. Now, it just seemed crass and inappropriate… and she was never crass and inappropriate. With a sigh, she stripped off the name tag, tossed it in the trash bin, slapped a fresh one onto her chest and wrote, “Ivan,” instead of, “fuck you.” Then she added two drops of vodka to her coffee, from a little glass vial from her pocket, and headed out to see who was in charge of this shithole and have a word with them about this place’s awful security.
Well, this group of people was turning out to not be the perfect group of co-workers he'd been hoping for. Their leader was a man who had an obsession with being Charlie while he insisted the rest of them be his guardian angels, and do his work for them. Mentions of the last group was not encouraging. The janitor couldn't keep his breakfast down but at least he cleaned up after himself. Georgette seemed nice and like most ladies she had an eye for his muscles. Hopefully that wouldn't distract her from her work. He'd feel bad if she got in trouble because of him. Her smile was cute but her stuttering killed what could have been a near perfect appearance. He was brought out of his musings when he realized he hadn't introduced himself to his new co-workers. "I'm Bale Durnham." He said with a pleasant smile, offering a hand to shake to Georgette. "I look forward to working with you."
Chunk's cell phone came to life as he finished washing out the bucket. Pulling it from his pocket he looked down to see that it was his cousin, Paul. "Hello." "Chunk! How's it going?" "Not good, man. Not good at all. But I got a job today so I guess I can't complain." "I bet the pay is shit." "It is, but a job's a job, right?" "Wrong. You should leave that town of yours and move to California. Come work for Stephanie and I. Our business is expanding and we're opening a new gym in two weeks. We need more employees and I can promise you I'll pay you a lot more than the hourly wage you're getting now." "That would be nice, Paul. But I'm going to need a new ride before I can take you up on that offer. My Caprice is history." "What happened?" "You don't want to know." Hearing a loud crash coming from the break room, Chunk sighed and shook his head resignedly. "Listen, I'm going to have to call you later." "Think about my offer." "I will." After saying goodbye, Chunk pocketed the phone and looked toward the break room. There, just outside the door, a woman threw away the name tag she'd been wearing and replaced it with a new one. What the fuck? Chunk thought, watching as she walked briskly away. Going to the trash bin, he picked up the old name tag. Hi, my name is Fuck You, it read. "Oh, come on!" This was getting worse by the minute. He dropped the tag on an empty Styrofoam container Knowing that a mess of monstrous proportions was waiting for him inside the break room, he shook his head. "I should leave. I should just throw my own name tag in the trash and leave right now. Because I damn sure don't want to see what's on the other side of this door." But he had no choice. If he left now, he wouldn't just be without a car--he'd be homeless. The manager at the trailer park would see to that. He couldn't let that happen. Taking a deep breath, Chunk opened the door, his eyes falling to the length of networking cable hanging from the ceiling. "Holy shit." Garrison would need to be informed of what had happened here. And, he would need to call in an electrician to repair the damage before Chunk could clean up this mess. Following the path the woman had taken upon exiting the break room, he walked toward the set of double doors that led into the main area of the store. Scanning the area near the cash registers, Chunk finally spotted the man. "Mr. Garrison," he called. "We have a situation in the break room that needs your attention. It's urgent."
It was such a strange place, a place almost impossible for Teddy to comprehend and he had to ask himself exactly where he was. However the question to ask was not where, but when. 6AM. A time long forgotten by this easy going stoner. The slap of his flip flops echoed above the buzz of dew covered grass and he walked down Willow Street with a breezy nonchalance in his step, the heat of the rising sun gently prickling his skin and the smell of Phillips FatFox's Pizza drifting into his nose, whetting his palette. Turning into Barrington Town Center he paused for a moment and starred at the mammoth red building at the end of the cul-de-sac. Shop N Drop. Teddy tilted his head slightly to the side in an attempt to gain a new perspective on the false idol of consumerism and greed, all the while Jimi Hendrix's "Voodoo Child" played through his Walkman headphones. Tilting his head further still Teddy began to stand on one foot, slowly putting out his arms for balance. It still just looked like the Shop N Drop. He held out for as long as he could, as if life itself depended on it. Teddy felt himself falling and hopped onto the other leg, switching his portly weight in a way both awkward yet cat like. Then suddenly a thought popped into his mind and his feet slammed back on the pavement. Maybe they would have Lucky Charms there. Unlimited supply of Lucky Charms. The ultimate answer to all of the munchies. All the munchies. Teddy's joy could not be contained and he leaned his head back with mouth agape and starred towards the sky, arching his back with his hands and pushing his hairy stomach out the bottom of his shirt. "Whoa..." Such was his desire for Lucky Charms that Teddy aimlessly powered his way through the shop entrance, the double doors barely with enough time to bing open. Not really registering who or what was at the front of the store Teddy shouted over his Walkman, "Like... I work here," he kept walking and held his hands out to show he came in peace, "Don't worry man, I work here. I'm gonna get some Lucky Charms... yea." In a dirty white flash of his lab coat he was gone, disappearing down the food section grabbing a carton of milk on the way through. The slap of his flip flops echoed here too across the marble floor, betraying his position with every step. Not that he cared. Grabbing a box of majestic Lucky Charms, Teddy starred at it with misty eyes and addressed the leprechaun, "Green dude - soooooo glad you're back." He hugged the box tenderly and made for the Electronics Department. In the far corner of the store he went, hiding away in the forest of technology. A shelf of thick wires and recycled motherboards at the back of the store consealed the door to Narnia - or the fire exit for everyone else - and Teddy sat in the doorway blocking it open with a broken microwave, smoking a doobie, eating Lucky Charms out of a box and enjoying the morning sun. What a time to be alive.
"I'm Bale Durnham." Said the beefcake and offered a hand to Georgette. "I look forward to working with you." Beefcake, thought Georgette, I could eat some cake. Just as she shook Bale's hand her stomach growled loudly. She continued to smile, though her cheeks were beginning to go red. Thankfully at that point, a man with a Walkman waddled past at speed shouting, "Like... I work here," he kept walking and held his hands out to show he came in peace, "Don't worry man, I work here. I'm gonna get some Lucky Charms... yea." Georgette frowned. “Lucky Charms? I could go for some Lucky Charms.” She lowered her voice, her eyes slipping cautiously to Garrison. “Can we do that?”
"We have a situation in the break room that needs your attention. It's urgent." "We do?" He asked staring at Chunk with that same gentle smile, it did his heart good to see all his new wards interacting with one another. It would also be good for his nap time and private time that was so hard to find in the working world these days, what a fun group of employees but sadly it didn't look like any of them had ever put much effort into anything in their lives. In fact the new comer was no doubt high as a kite but drug addicts were always a fun group of people, he raised an eyebrow at the man's fascination with Lucky Charms. Garrison shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted quietly behind Georgette before making his way to Chunk. “Can we do that?” "WHY SURE!!" He shouted in her ear in a booming voice. "COFFEE AND LUCKY CHARMS SOUND LIKE A WONDERFUL COMBO!" After screaming at Georgette he went back to making his way over to Chunk. "What's the skinny?" He asked the janitor
"What's the skinny? I'll tell you what the skinny is. Some bitch done fucked up the break room! All kinds of wires and shit hanging out the ceiling. I don't know what the bitch was doing, but you'd better go check it out."
“That would be me,” Ivanna said, stepping into their conversation as if she’d been there all along. “I was gonna clean it up,” she lied, “after I get Mr. Garrison to sign this invoice for the four hours of overtime I put in. Here ya go, Charlie,” she said, shoving a piece of paper in front of Gary, with a detailed account of when she’d arrived, what she’d done… and how much she expected to be paid for it. “I came in early to check the store’s security systems. It’s a clusterfuck. Your databases are outdated. Your encryption is a joke. I picked the lock on the back door in, like, twenty seconds, and the delay on the silent alarm is ridiculous. Unlike this fucking mop jockey,” she glared at ‘Chunk,’ “I’ve actually done some work today, so get off my nuts. “Oh, and by the way…” She chugged the last of her vodka-laced coffee, ignoring the sharp burn as it slid down her throat, then threw the empty styrofoam cup at his feet. “Clean up on aisle nine, bitch.”
“Clean up on aisle nine, bitch.” "As you wish." Picking up the Styrofoam cup, he turned and left her with Charlie, following the trail of Lucky Charms to the electronics section. "Who the hell are you?" He asked the man who was shoving cereal into his mouth. Looking down at his red shirt, Chunk frowned. "That cereal's coming out of your paycheck. You know that, right?"
