2 Weeks, 14 days, 20160 Minutes, 1209600 seconds

"Yuzuru's Drunk Rant, six beers deep and Imma tell you how much of a fuck I don't give!"

"Welcome to New Zack Island, population 7 customers, a handful of staffers to staff her, one temporary manager; the boss is never here. Leaving me to deal with the shit customers throw at me. But in this day and age we live in; the customer is always FUCKING right!"

*Cue drunken maniacal laughter.*

"I only asked for a job just so I can stop getting nagged on by my grandparents. Ok, look, thank you, Grandpa and Grandma for taking care of me ever since my parents died but I'll find a job – and I did – and I'll get my ass out of your house, okay! J-just…just stop being so negative, telling me things that kill my motivation for finding a job! Be a little more supportive!"

The First Week

The ferry had dropped me off, apparently I was the only passenger getting off at the jetty, and people were giving me strange looks. I was wearing my favorite pair of jeans, comfortable sneakers and 'Army Strong' T-shirt.

The island was like any island on the planet, lush, green, sandy with crystal clear waters; I didn't understand what was so special about it. As far as I'm concerned, I'm just in it for the money.

Forgive my manners, the names is Yuzuru. Sento Yuzuru. I'm 24, college graduate and until recently, a couch potato.

I applied for this job, never take a friends word too seriously, because I had just bought a house (because who doesn't love the extra space); it's real nice, in the nicer part of town, the price was reasonable and it was close by to utilities like the train station, an eatery a bike ride away and if I'm ever needing a bit of fresh air there was a park 400 meters to my right.

Back to the story, uh…yes, so Ferry-jetty-Island I see nothing special about and oh, did I mention my boss was a total asshole. I didn't? Well, he is.

I can tell at first glance he wasn't from around here. And by here I mean from Japan. He was a…interesting character. Black, bald, wears a funny hat, white shirt, pin-stripe jacket, yellow slacks and brown leather shoes.

I went for a handshake and instead I got a slap on the back I thought I was gonna cough up my lungs. His name was Zack, a self-taught Muay Thai practitioner from the United States and as I've said, a total asshole.

I didn't dare say that to his face. I love my life too much to have it get taken by an asshole. If I die, let it be in the bosoms of a lovely young lady. Zack gave me the rundown of how things are done here, who does this and who does that.

And then the bombshell that made my stomach drop.

"By the way, you're in charge while I'm away! Good luck!"

He actually said that. And the handful of staffers they didn't seem to be as shocked as I am. I mean come on! I'm just a 24 year old straight out of college graduate and now I'm gonna have to manage a whole resort?!

It had to be a joke right?

"You're in charge, son! Make me proud!"

"ZAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCKKKK!" as soon as that blue, yellow striped, chopper of his lifted off, I screamed like a hero screaming 'NO' when he lost someone.

That was just day one. I didn't have to do much on day one as Zack had already arranged everything so my workload was pretty much light if non-existent. I settled into my room, a penthouse suite sounded nice but I wouldn't be able to focus because of the pressure, fancy stuff comes at a price.

So instead, I picked one of the smaller rooms.

It's funny, for a resort with hundreds of rooms, suites and stuff, this place sure has a funny limit for visitors. 7 to be exact!

"Sir would you like anything perhaps a drink or some lunch maybe." It was one of the workers, Marie, I think was her name. She was nice, with blonde hair, a short build, warm smile and the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen.

I turned down the offer. I wanted to get a look of the whole Island for today (and I needed some time to still let some things sink in). It was hot, so I changed out jeans for a pair of red, white, and black surf pants.

OF COURSE, I FORGOT MY SANDALS!

I hated getting sand in my shoes. Few times I had to stop, take them off, and shake the sand out of them but after 2-3 stops I told myself "Screw it!" and went bare feet instead. Not the worst idea I've ever had.

My sneakers in one hand, I continued walking, getting to know my surroundings and all. From a list from one of the staffers, the island provided some unique activities. "What the hell is butt-battle?" I said to myself, scanning the list, when my eyes saw that.

There was rock-climbing, volleyball, and marathon? Who in their right mind runs a marathon on an island?

On another note, the island did have some good fishing spots, the jetty most of all. Cod, herring, and tuna! There were fresh water streams inland but I was at all too enthusiastic about jungle trekking at the moment so I stayed along the outer rim.

After mapping out the island, which took me at least 2-3 hours to do, I decided to check out what indoor activities and facilities they had here on Zack Island. Ugh, is it considered narcissistic to name an Island after yourself. Or better yet, is it considered pollution.

The resort includes a casino, a five star restaurant (one I'll never have the luxury of enjoying), a gift shop, swimsuit shop, a night club and…oh god no, Margaritaville! Fucking Jimmy Buffet!

If you don't know who Jimmy Buffet is then good for you. For those of you who do, here's how it went down with Jimmy Buffet. Here's how Jimmy Buffet got famous.

He was praying to Jesus one night, the devil showed up was like, "Hey, I'll make you a deal; you'll get a record deal with your voice, I just need your soul." And he (Buffet) was like, "I can even write a song about cheeseburgers?"

"You can write a song about whatever the fuck you want!"

If you ask me who got the better deal there, I would say, "Jimmy Buffet got the better deal." in a heartbeat. The devil done fucked up.

He now has a margarita in hand, cheeseburger half-eaten, wearing flip-flops and shits himself. Now, the Devil's stuck with Buffet soul.

Devil: Ugh, I gotta do the 'fins to the left' again.

Every half hour in hell, "Oh, there's a hurricane!"

Speaking of Buffet, I wondered what his next song would be about. Probably how much manure does it take to fill up a tesla?

Here it is in song:

~ How much manure does it take to fill up a tesla? – Fins to the left! ~

Here comes a HURRICANE!

Back to the subject at hand, I steered clear of the Margaritaville like it was the plague, and it was.

I made my way to one of the 5-star restaurants to say 'Hi' to the chef, just for the sake of being polite. Stopping to wash my feet of sand from one of the showers like they had at pools, wouldn't want to be seen as some uncouth pig now, would we?

He was kind man that went by the name Yukihira, eccentric but kind, with long reddish-brown hair reaching his shoulders. He was built like a machine. I don't eat out much but does a chef often look like a man's underwear model?

"Be sure to stop by sometime, okay boss!" he called out as I was leaving. "Boss" I'm gonna have to get use to that. I waved and so did he, before pushing the double glass doors open.

I spent the day getting to know my co-workers and my role as temporary manager while Zack is away. The first customer arrives tomorrow. A friend of Zack's, he had made arrangements for her ahead of time.

Now my job is to make sure her stay is comfortable. From what I hear she's quite the big shot in the business world.

Let's hope I survive day one.

A/N: Was playing through DOA Xtreme 3 today when this Idea popped up. So I figured that I write a story on this Owner-san and his adventures on Zack Island. Hope you all like it!