The sweet scent of grass and the soft atmospheric sounds of the dream world were long gone from his mind by the time Scott readied himself for his next boss fight. Reluctantly, he closed his Internet browser and sighed. "I'd take a field of onions over this sort of battle any day."

Dread welled up in his heart for the briefest of moments then he lifted up his Archer employee nametag and nodded professionally. "To arms, then?"

Briefly, Scott once again considered calling off from work that day. Unfortunately, he would not allow himself that luxury. As much as he despised customer service oriented retail work, he did need the money. He’d laid up a store of food and paid up his bills for the month by this point. That meant that he sorely lacked the necessary funds to live.

One shower, quick breakfast, and change of clothes later left Scott armed and ready for his day. He left his modest home and headed into town. It was once again time to visit, retail hell.

He reached his goal a short time later. In the near distance loomed the forbidden fortress, Archer's. A store lined with bright red shelves and wide-eyed shoppers ready to do anything they could to squeeze out even a small bit of savings. 'What, oh what will the store hold for me today?' he wondered idly.

His thoughts turned to the typical issues he might face. Would there be expired coupons, and an irate customer demanding they be accepted anyway? Purchase return attempts that included neither a receipt, nor a debit card used to purchase the item? Will his cashiers suddenly forget how to use their register when someone decides to buy a cart load of tiny individually priced items?

The answer to each of those questions was, of course, "Yes."

Scott took a moment to watch various shoppers enter the building and then bore witness to the brave few who managed to exit that dire dungeon of despair. Those precious few escaped with both their lives and their slightly overpriced goods.

"Look at them..." he whispered, a slight hint of disdain creeping into his voice. These were the few, the elite. They were the people who thought themselves superior to the common rabble who shopped at the rival store, Vahl-Mart.

The Archer's store was a place that sold items which were fairly similar to their business rival. However, the owners of the brand were quite savvy when it came to branding. They charged slightly more money for nearly the exact same merchandise. Through clever marketing, and higher prices, they had their customer-base convinced that they were the true purveyors of fiscally obtainable quality merchandise. All others were ill-bred commoners incapable of purchasing anything good due to their lack of intellect and fiscal capacity.

The disdain he felt slipped away a moment later as he approached the foreboding double-doors that served as an entrance into retail hell. It was not fair to compare the two store chains, really. While Vahl-Mart was slightly less expensive they did lack one thing that his current employer had to offer.

He smacked himself on the side of the face then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As his eyes opened he affected a smile. After a brief moment of preparation, he widened his eyes further and projected a sense of joyful innocence.

The result was a complete disconnect from the dour man whom arrived on site earlier. Scott had transformed himself into the one thing Vahl-Mart lacked, a happy and highly-experienced customer services representative.

He licked the tips of his index fingers then smoothed out his eyebrows, quirked one of them upward, and then puckered his lips. "Hell yeah. Like a boss."

Scott put a little swagger in his steps as he walked through the doorway to hell. This was his shitty little kingdom, and he would reign supreme. At least, that's what he needed to tell himself just to avoid spending all night hanging out in the bathroom.

The games began the moment that he stepped across floor mat and set foot onto the retail floor. “There he is!” called a rotund woman who currently manned the guest service desk.

“Where? I’ll punch the bastard,” said Scott amiably. He feigned looking around for a moment, but then sighed. Every time he came to work there was a foolishly vain hope in his heart. If he were quick enough, clever enough, he could get in and out without people noticing him.

It was impossible, of course. His shift would last at least six hours, and since he closed tonight he might not be off work for seven or eight hours total. Why guest services needed to help clean the sales floor after the end of the day was a mystery of the highest order... of bullshit, but at least those hours were spent without the need to interact with customers. Rather, the store's so-called guests.

The plus-sized woman laughed happily. Her hoop earrings wobbled merrily as she loudly guffawed at his sad attempt at crafting a humorous retort. Her mirth increased several fold as she showed him the guest services keys. “There’s no escape. It’s your fate, Little Scottie.”

Scott stared at the woman, his eye-lid twitching spastically. Every time she called him 'Little Scottie' a homicidal urge rose up within him. “I suppose it is... Maybe I’ll be able to escape outside a few times tonight.”

“I’m going to do that right after you clock in, honey,” said the woman.

The way she emphasized the word honey forced Scott to suppress a sudden shiver that threatened to out his true thoughts on the matter. 'Urge to kill, rising...' he thought, briefly.

In the end, he won his inner struggle. He nodded toward the keys in her hand. “Keep ‘em warm for me, Bigness.”

She winked at him then said, "Sure thing white boy."

He fled the scene as quickly as possible. He had a few more minutes before he had to clock in for his guest services shift, so he opted to slowly stroll through the store. Technically he was an entry level manager, but the only thing he ever managed to do was withstand his desire to punch people in the throat.

He made his way through the store. Various staff members called out to him. They always loved it when he came in to work. Their day brightened considerably. As far as they knew, he was the happiest person alive.

A man in a security uniform called out to him. "There he is."

"Hey now," called back Scott amiably. "You're not asleep today, Willie?"

William Townsend, an older man well-liked in the store due to his sense of humor and dedication to his role as store security, wandered "Woke right up when I saw you flirtin' with the wife."

Scott offered him a sour expression. "Yeah, no."

Willie's eyes lit up, "Oh? Thought you'd propose this time."

Scott gave him a look, and Willie broke out into a smile. The older man's smile soon shifted into a cheeky grin. He said, "I thought you liked chocolate milk?"

"There's a little too much milk shake to bring me to that yard," said Scott sarcastically.

"Big girls need love too," said Willie, his smile brightening.

"Yeah, but they have to pay extra," said Scott, a serious expression on his face.

Willie threw back his head and burst out laughing, "Man, you ain't right. You just ain't right."

"Well, you're not wrong," said Scott, his smile returning. Bullshitting around with Willie was one of the few legitimately good parts of his day. He dared not ask the man if he would be working tonight, as he might tell him that he was about to get off work. It would break Scott's heart to know that yet another employee would escape from retail hell before he did.

They discussed the plus-sized guest services lady for a moment. Willie playfully tried to get Scott to propose to Bigness. Scott continually assured Willie that he was the only chocolate love that he needed in his life. It was a merry few minutes spent between the two.

Scott and Willie parted ways. He walked toward the pharmacy area then smiled brightly at the cute technician on duty that day. She waved at him and asked, “Where’s my sub?”

He laughed at her, “I’m just getting here.”

“I’m just kidding. You working tonight?” asked Kenna, the pharmacy tech.

“Would I be here otherwise?” asked Scott in a flippant tone.

“Hey, is that Scott?” called another feminine voice.

They both turned and saw one of the other pharmacy techs, Amanda, coming back from her break. Kenna called out, “Yeah, but he didn’t bring any food.”

“Fuck him, then,” said Amanda. She grinned at Scott to show that she was kidding.

Scott snorted at them. “If either of you did, I’d buy the good subs. Real meat and everything.”

Kenna laughed at him then flashed her engagement ring. “Sorry, I get the real meat already.”

“You whore,” said Scott pleasantly.

Of course, inwardly he was annoyed. She showed him that ring every chance she got. He never saw her flash it anyone else, and it made him wonder if she just wanted to taunt him since he occasionally offered her part of his lunch sandwiches. There was a sub-shop across the street, so he bought lunch there frequently.

Kenna burst out laughing and Amanda shook her head. That mouth of his was one of the reasons that the staff loved him. He honestly did not seem to care if he kept his job, and just said whatever he wanted. It even influenced the guests at the store as many of them came in just to see the weird guest services guy and experience his random antics.

“Well, you girls get back to pimping drugs to the elderly. I have to clock in and go get the keys from Bigness,” said Scott.

“Ha, I wonder where she put them this time,” snarked Amanda.

Scott grunted at her. “If she pulls them out of her cleavage again, I think I’ll quit on the spot.”

Sadie, the one he referenced as Bigness, was someone who had put the fear of fat women into the man. He did not normally disparage larger ladies. But when a three hundred pound married woman chased a man around, and even tried to clean the men’s room while he sat on the toilet, it became bothersome.

If the truth were told, she was a fairly nice person most of the time. He did not want to hurt her feelings in general, but there were some places where he just did not have a desire to chat with women. Especially married ones.

Kenna grinned at him then leaned forward to give him what he could only consider to be an intentional view of her own special assets. “What? You don’t like that sort of thing?”

Before Scott could answer, Amanda spoke up. “Girl, put those things away. We got old people comin',”

Kenna and Scott glanced toward Amanda and then back down the aisle. Several guests who looked like the most ancient people to have ever lived slowly made their way down the aisle. Scott sarcastically thought that it looked like a George Romero film set for a moment. The sallow complexion and jerky gait of their walking motions made them look like elderly members of the living dead community.

“Yeah, you girls handle this...” said Scott before he moved quickly toward the staff area, and the time clock.

Kenna called out. “I want jalapenos on mine!”

Scott poked his head back out of the door and called back, “You’ll take what I give you, woman, and beg for more!”

She stuck out her tongue playfully at him. Without hesitation she whipped her head around and smiled at the closest of the elderly drug seekers.

The older woman shakily asked, “What’s that dear...? Jell-O paninis?”

“Ah, no. I was just asking for jalapenos on my sub,” said Kenna.

“Oh... that sounds good too. Tell your boyfriend to get me one,” said the older woman, a slight smile crossing her lips.

Kenna laughed then said, “Sure.”

Amanda glanced over at her co-worker then acquired a smug grin. She would have to give her shit later for not setting the old lady straight about Scott.

Inside the staff area Scott stared down at the time-clock. Various curse words flowed through his mind as he gazed upon the slave master that owned his soul. "It's all your fault..." he whispered menacingly to the hateful device that controlled when he had to enter hell and when he could escape from its clutches.

"Whose fault?" asked a cutesy voice from nearby.

Scott involuntarily took in a deep breath as the owner of that voice registered in his head. "Hey, boss lady."

Ashton walked over to him, her clipboard in hand. Today she wore a button-up shirt and vest combo that accentuated her positives quite well. Her fashionable glasses sat smartly on her face, a sight that granted her an air of intelligence and poise. However, her slightly pouting lips betrayed her.

"Has someone caused you any concerns?" she asked seriously.

"No, not really," said Scott. "I was just letting the time-clock know its place in my life."

She blinked at him. A moment later she reached out and lightly smacked him on the arm with her clipboard. "Silly..."

An awkward pause ensued as the sorority girl turned store team leader, and the man who would be king, stood in silent contemplation of what had just transpired.

"So, you're working tonight?" she asked after a moment.

"Yeah, just about to clock in," said Scott. He did his best to put a little warmth in his voice.

She nodded to him then affected a playful smile of her own. "I'm just about to get off myself."

"Aw, so I won't have you leading me tonight?" he asked her, the warmth rising in his voice considerably in the process.

She pouted a little, and stood up straighter. In the process of doing that, her breasts jutted forward slightly. It was a common sight from her and was the originator of her own little nickname from Scott, though he dared not mention it in front of her.

"No, sadly. But we'll be working together A few days from now," she said, her pout perking into a smile.

Scott offered her a thumbs up. "Can't wait."

She offered him a polite nod then waited for him to clock in for his shift. Scott left the room and headed off to discover what Bigness chose to do with the keys this time. Ashton was left behind to contemplate the time clock herself.

"It's almost over," she whispered. The perkiness and pouting lips disappeared from view in that moment. Instead, a tired woman waited patiently for her work shift to come to an end.

Just as she finished clocking out, her cell buzzed in her pocket. She took it out then sighed loudly. "You've got to be kidding me..." she said after reading the message her fiancé texted, "You couldn't pick me up before running off to do that?"

Her fiancé, a man she met in college named Bradly Hamilton, typically picked her up and dropped her off at work. Some days, like today, he would be out running errands and would not be able to arrive on time when her shift ended.

"It's my truck, you know," she muttered to herself.

Unable to do anything about the situation, Ashton collected her things and headed out to the food court at the front of the store. Perhaps overpriced coffee and the antics of the guest services manager would cheer her up.

Scott had a way of doing that, even if he also had a terrible habit of nicknaming his fellow team members. Often those nicknames were highly inappropriate in the work place. Honestly, if he was not so useful in his role she would probably have fired him for that by now.

"At least that chubby weirdo listens to me," she remarked with a snort. A moment later Ashton took a deep breath then forced herself to smile. She smoothed her hair, and stood up straight. Since she was still at work, she needed to show a certain professionalism. Much like back in her sorority, this store was her queendom. She would reign supreme.