TokyoPewPew
Antlers
Aksiram
Captain Uni
JFK
AuthorialTheory
MaeB
Stryder BC
NeziulTIME: 11:00 PM
LOCATION: The Gas Way Express
Slowly but surely, you work your way through the horde of hungry customers one at a time. Somehow, you manage to whisper to the spark of humanity left in their black, materialistic hearts and convince them to walk up in an orderly fashion. The crowd, once seemingly unassailable, has now dwindled down to a steady line, thanks to your help. Unfortunately for you, Management doesn’t give any bonuses for your patience. After the hullabaloo of the crowd dies down, the Gas Way settles back into an uneasy detente, left with only a few truckers filling up the tanks of their semi-trucks.
All that you’re left with now is the quiet. A silence that hangs in the air like a stretched rubber band.
Well, almost.
In the middle of your conversation, the automatic doors slide open and a liver curdling stench wearing three coats wades into your nostrils. Bloodshot eyes separated by a bulbous nose squint, shadowed by the wide brim of a boonie hat pocketed with holes. His face and two thirds of his chest is covered by a blonde bush of tangled knots. His ratty boots leave prints on your immaculately mopped floor. You can swear you can even see rats scooting in and out, poking their tiny heads out of his pockets.
You’ve heard about him multiple times in earshot, from Al, from other employees. They call him the Squatter. During your online orientation, Al sent you warnings about beggars and vagrants loitering around the Gas Way premises. The Day Shift employees have a betting pool about how long it’ll take for Al to call the cops on him. Perhaps, you’ve seen glimpses of him begging for spare change near the pumps or dozing off in a cardboard box near the Dumps. This is the first time you’ve seen him up close and personal. Maybe, there's some part of you that remembers official Gas-Way policy on dealing with unruly customers but the Squatter's overwhelming perfume of cheap beer and pickled anchovies erases any thought of it from your mind.
He sways drunkenly in one spot for a moment, pawing the bubblegum rack as if it was a religious idol, before he turns on the three of you. He waddles over, knocking over Snickers and candy bars from the bar register, two hands holding onto the side of the table like a lifebuoy. Once he’s close enough that you can smell spirits in his breath, he points one twitchy finger towards Rory.
“ I see what you’re all doing! You’re all fools.” His eyes shift wildly around as he continues to rant in a drunken stupor. “ Best get going from this place if you all know what was good for you. Seen the rainbow butterfly, I did yes. Flapping its wings oér here from the south.” He giggles a little. “ Oh yes, it is real. I saw its babies ice-skating in my brain.” He taps the side of his skull twice. “ Yes….yes...oh, we’ll all witness its birth…..” Without warning, he grabs Rory's shoulder, leaning into his face close enough that you could count each individual wart on his cheeks. " Yes....soon, you'll all regret eating Mexican......mexican....mexi-"
Mid-sentence, he freezes, drawing out the last syllable and stopping completely as if someone hit pause on a TV remote. His eyes glaze over, his drunken mania simmering down into a sober depression. His knees crook over, wobbling as the full nature of gravity sinks into his muscles.
“ Ughhhhhh…..that was a bad trip….” He groans, gripping his head. He looks up at you blearily and then, yawns like he's come out of hibernation. His left hand wanders over towards one of his pockets, searching for something. Sighing in disappointment, he looks at the three of you with a small smile of embarrassment. “ Any of you youngsters got a spare buck for a Yoo Hoo?”
Out in the distance, you can see faint flickers of orange light glimmering in the dark like fireflies. Eyeballing it, they appear to be on the outskirts of the Parking Lot. What’s even more stranger is that you can swear that they’re moving slowly. Purposefully. As if something living is causing them in the first place.
You should probably go investigate it before you're forced to by whatever is out there.
@Firecracker_@Atrophy @Rapid Reader
LOCATION: The Gas Way Express
Slowly but surely, you work your way through the horde of hungry customers one at a time. Somehow, you manage to whisper to the spark of humanity left in their black, materialistic hearts and convince them to walk up in an orderly fashion. The crowd, once seemingly unassailable, has now dwindled down to a steady line, thanks to your help. Unfortunately for you, Management doesn’t give any bonuses for your patience. After the hullabaloo of the crowd dies down, the Gas Way settles back into an uneasy detente, left with only a few truckers filling up the tanks of their semi-trucks.
All that you’re left with now is the quiet. A silence that hangs in the air like a stretched rubber band.
Well, almost.
In the middle of your conversation, the automatic doors slide open and a liver curdling stench wearing three coats wades into your nostrils. Bloodshot eyes separated by a bulbous nose squint, shadowed by the wide brim of a boonie hat pocketed with holes. His face and two thirds of his chest is covered by a blonde bush of tangled knots. His ratty boots leave prints on your immaculately mopped floor. You can swear you can even see rats scooting in and out, poking their tiny heads out of his pockets.
You’ve heard about him multiple times in earshot, from Al, from other employees. They call him the Squatter. During your online orientation, Al sent you warnings about beggars and vagrants loitering around the Gas Way premises. The Day Shift employees have a betting pool about how long it’ll take for Al to call the cops on him. Perhaps, you’ve seen glimpses of him begging for spare change near the pumps or dozing off in a cardboard box near the Dumps. This is the first time you’ve seen him up close and personal. Maybe, there's some part of you that remembers official Gas-Way policy on dealing with unruly customers but the Squatter's overwhelming perfume of cheap beer and pickled anchovies erases any thought of it from your mind.
He sways drunkenly in one spot for a moment, pawing the bubblegum rack as if it was a religious idol, before he turns on the three of you. He waddles over, knocking over Snickers and candy bars from the bar register, two hands holding onto the side of the table like a lifebuoy. Once he’s close enough that you can smell spirits in his breath, he points one twitchy finger towards Rory.
“ I see what you’re all doing! You’re all fools.” His eyes shift wildly around as he continues to rant in a drunken stupor. “ Best get going from this place if you all know what was good for you. Seen the rainbow butterfly, I did yes. Flapping its wings oér here from the south.” He giggles a little. “ Oh yes, it is real. I saw its babies ice-skating in my brain.” He taps the side of his skull twice. “ Yes….yes...oh, we’ll all witness its birth…..” Without warning, he grabs Rory's shoulder, leaning into his face close enough that you could count each individual wart on his cheeks. " Yes....soon, you'll all regret eating Mexican......mexican....mexi-"
Mid-sentence, he freezes, drawing out the last syllable and stopping completely as if someone hit pause on a TV remote. His eyes glaze over, his drunken mania simmering down into a sober depression. His knees crook over, wobbling as the full nature of gravity sinks into his muscles.
“ Ughhhhhh…..that was a bad trip….” He groans, gripping his head. He looks up at you blearily and then, yawns like he's come out of hibernation. His left hand wanders over towards one of his pockets, searching for something. Sighing in disappointment, he looks at the three of you with a small smile of embarrassment. “ Any of you youngsters got a spare buck for a Yoo Hoo?”
Out in the distance, you can see faint flickers of orange light glimmering in the dark like fireflies. Eyeballing it, they appear to be on the outskirts of the Parking Lot. What’s even more stranger is that you can swear that they’re moving slowly. Purposefully. As if something living is causing them in the first place.
You should probably go investigate it before you're forced to by whatever is out there.
@Firecracker_@Atrophy @Rapid Reader
