ZACHARY

A middle finger shot up at Zach's boss - one that she seemed to have, thankfully, missed. He then turned to his two colleagues. "Dumb bitch. Has she not heard of the concept of 'Delegation' and 'Training' and 'Not delegating people to jobs they are not trained for'?"

[i]"Any of y'all need a ride?"[/i]

"When did you get an accent - ah, to hell with it. Yeah, I could use a ride." Zachary nodded at the two. "Name's Zachary, though with how Madam Bitch was screaming you probably heard ages ago. You're Ash, right? And... Rick?" He offered his hand. "Sorry you didn't catch me at my best. I'm really not good with customers." He shrugged. "I know what you're out for - asthma and stuff - but why're you out with us, Rick?"

Then, Zachary felt his stomach lurch. It wasn't painful, persay, but it was sure as shit uncomfortable, and was almost disorienting. He stumbled. "Ah, shit, stomach's acting up. I'm so glad the shift ended early, I would not want to freak in the middle of the workplace. Do either of you know where the nearest bathroom is before I -" another lurch, and Zachary found himself barfing up food, some yellow stuff, and bits of blood. "Never mind. Stomach problems have resolved themselves right outside the diner. I do not want to see the next customers' faces."