Ashburn
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Lying down on the worn out sofa Ash felt his bones and joints gratefully relax. His breathing was still labored, but had evened out greatly. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. His doctor, Dr. Christianson, swore up an down he didn't have asthma. Even after years of tests not a single doctor could figure out why he was having these problems, as every lab came back healthy.

"Well that was fun. I'm sorry to be a bother" Ash said with a weak chuckle, that quickly turned into a coughing fit. His burning lungs protested at the disturbance and he gave up on talking.

Before anything could be said in reply the break room door slammed open, hitting the metal remnants of a door stop hard. In came the beautiful, but frightening head chef.

"What the hell Ashburn?!" She shouted like a drill sergeant "If your going to die don't do it on my watch! That's twice this month!"

Mrs. Mabel, the head chef, was a very intimidating figure. She drove the staff like a marine corps, well most of the staff. For some reason she ignored the dish-washers and janitors, as evidenced by the poor sanitation of the place as a whole. Ash found her to be scary to say the least and made a habit out of ignoring her. For some reason she was the only leader figure he ever saw, the owners never stopped by and thus far a manager only showed up on Mrs. Mabel's rare off days. If it weren't for the generously tipping patrons he would have left long ago.

"Eric the only reason your ass isn't fried for being late is you actually did something. Those idiots were watching Ashburn like he was a f*cking carnival show." She fumed angrily "You both are going to stay here for now, if he falls out I need someone to recover him."

Grabbing an apron from the pegs next to the door she left in a huff she marched down the hall, heels clicking on the cheap tile, back to the kitchen. She had a busy dining area and she was h*ll bent on making sure everyone was served. Eyeing the kitchen staff she saw that the dishwasher was almost done with his dishes. 

"Zack!" She shouted, shoving the apron into his still wet hands "Conrats you've been temporarily promoted. Get your ass out on the floor and take care of Ashburn's tables." She gestured with her thumb at the direction of the floor. "And don't f*ck up because I don't have time to fix it"

Storming to the cooking area of the kitchen she began directing the cooks in the same manner, much to the chagrin of the cooks, leaving Zack with an apron, still emblazoned with a cheap plastic name tag saying "Daisy".