[center][h1][b][color=goldenrod]PSA 1:[/color][/b][color=RoyalBlue] New Hires[/color][/h1][/center]

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[center][color=limegreen]$$$[/color][/center]
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department: bargain bin 

date: there is no date in the Wal 

time: closing hours 

Everyone in the department could feel that Clearance was overstaying its welcome, especially as Black Fryeday approached with its shivering air-conditioned gales. From the top of a Shelf, he sipped a CapriSun red through a curly straw, the burning sweetness burning a hole through his gums and down his throat.  The Bin was a mountain of forgotten relics of past Departments and brands. The Curator of the Books Department had requested multiple times to do an archeological survey into its unscoured depths and he’d rejected them all the same. Aside from the risk of enraging the Stockers and awakening some malfunctioning automaton, the Cashier Of Bargain Bin felt that perhaps some items were meant to be discounted forever. 

The tin-can phone rattled, the string running through the front wall vibrating like a violin string. He picked it up and immediately regretted it. 

“ Sir, it’s him.” The normally svelte voice of his secretary was distorted into an monotone warble of two people speaking together in tune.

“ Send him in.”

Diplomacy and deal-making were an unfortunate part of his responsibilities as Cashier that he’d learned to deal with since the expiry of the last Cashier. Sending out squads of Lifters couldn’t be done on a whim. You had to sign paperwork. You had to discuss details of payment. You had to talk with angry or idiot  clients.

This particular client, though, he wanted to exile from his Department. He wanted to trap him inside one of the Fridges Of Groceries or drop him inside the misty lands of Baby Goods, let his corpse rot until the Janitors processed his body and send him off to the Land Beyond the Lots. 

The door clicked open and a man strode in, his face covered by a over-cast hood that made his face seemed like an endless chasm. He walked over towards the Cashier and simply stood instead of sitting on the pastel-coloured plastic play stool on the floor. Clever bastard. 

" I’ve been considering your offer for some time now.” 

“ And?” The hooded man replied.

“ Convince me why I shouldn’t have Casio here nail your head to the floor.” On cue, the aforementioned bodyguard on his right brings out a hefty looking staple gun. , He points towards his guest accusatorily. “  Do you even know what position you’ve put me in?!” 

It’s not a question meant to be answered and his client knows that.  He continues forth, his answer slowly transforming into a rant simmering on the edge of rage. 

“ An envoy of the Gucci Guard rode him to my office and said that the Glamagesh would like a private meeting with me. As if his Highness would deign to roam around with us out-of-fashions. Rumours spreads that the Rafters are mounting yet another assault on our territory. Amboluceti have been spotted in our northern borders, even though we haven’t seen them for several seasonals.” He takes another draught of the Caprisun and glares at the arrogant smile sitting across his coffee table. “ You should have never brought that cursed thing at all.”

“ Are the claims I’ve heard about the Bargain Bin unfounded? I thought you would take in any item, no matter the condition.” 

“ It’s not the condition of the item, it’s the conditions of the contract!  This contract is easily worth a thousand Pachinko tickets yet the price you’re giving for this is barely enough for a Wal-Cart.”  The Cashier signs. “ I’m entrusting an artifact of the Great Sam to a naive dorf, a disgraced penja, a Pet-Master and his rabid runt, a Tron Girl who talks to obscure idols, some silk-clothed noble from Clothing and a half-mannequin brat.”  His temper is rising. He snaps his fingers, vein pulsing on his head, as one of his attendants pours out a fresh lick of vintage Mountain Dew for him to sample.  “ You’re playing a foolish game, Greeter.”

“ Foolish?” The Greeter simply smiled a Cheshire grin. “ The fool is the one who plays by the rules of the Wal. I’m merely changing them.”

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