Main Characters: Shirosaki (Ichi's hollow), Ichigo, Ikkaku, Iba, and Yumichika

Warnings: Shiro's mouth, improper use of substances (not drugs), random POV switches, completely AU

Disclaimer: Me no own Bleach, or the idea; it's based on an article at the bottom. Please no suing. It just ruins my day.

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There were no words to describe the horror he was currently engulfed in, at least to Shirosaki Tetsu. No words to do justice to the absolute agony that he was living. No words to describe…his fucking job.

Two weeks ago his parents had finally had enough of his ways, which weren't so terrible he thought. Was it too much to ask that his mother had the common courtesy to just shut the fuck up and not bitch about the blood on his clothes when she did the laundry? He had no idea why his father had the urge to ridiculously attempt, attempt mind you, putting him in a counseling group with other 'misguided souls like him' was the phrase used.

The hell he was going to sit in a circle on a cheap plastic chair with the sad fucks that had just gotten out of juvie. He hadn't been to juvie. Yet. He'd been tried twice but the first time the judge had been scared shitless of him and had dropped the case. The second judge was made of slightly sterner stuff, so his old man had bribed the bastard, and that case was dropped too. No one bothered to try to report him after that, so he was free to rampage around town at will.

He'd gotten himself kicked out of the stupid thing at the first meeting by throwing a 200 pound bruiser through the second story window at the school where the group met after said bruiser had been stupid enough to call him, "white freak." He was used to such unoriginal remarks and was willing to let it go, if only because he'd been threatened with a cut off of his funds at home, but the asshole just had to shove him on his way past and when Shirosaki next realized what he was doing, he was enjoying the fresh breeze coming from a, ahem, slightly 'remodeled window'.

After that incident, which had involved frantic calls from the hospital, the school, everyone involved, their parents, and grandparents for fucks sake, things just went downhill. First he'd accidentally lit the house on fire. The excuse he gave was that he was trying to fix dinner for his parents after a hard day of work and it just got away from him. He supposed it didn't help his case that he NEVER for any reason cooked, even for himself, and that when the fire brigade arrived he was found standing in the front lawn with a big grin on his face, laughing manically and yelling, "Burn fucker, burn!" That may have incriminated him ever so slightly.

The next thing to go wrong was his run in with one of the local gangs, the Soul Society. He was minding his own business in a secluded alleyway when, what should he hear but the sound of a beat down further in. So, like any concerned citizen, he'd headed in for a better view-I mean- to make sure the guy was okay. After he'd gotten bored of the rather amusing spectacle of four grown men beating up one, lone and obviously puny, he headed in for his bit of fun – No, not for fun, but to stop this hideous injustice.

After mercilessly beating the shit out of the four and the puny weakling had fled the scene the cops showed up. Apparently Hanatarou, had to remember to get the little shit later, had called the police out of concern. Like hell. Being caught with bodies on the ground, and blood everywhere does not endear your to the police, or your family once you've successfully evaded the police, or anyone really.

Point is, a week ago his father, Tensa, had found an apartment for him. Far away from the house. And paid the first week of rent for him. He'd then been informed that unless he wanted to be out on his ass in the street, which he didn't really mind, he'd have to do something he's told himself he'd never lower himself to do. Get. A. Job. And work. Work for his food, for his clothes, for his lodgings. They weren't going to give him a cent more.

Which is how he found himself is this situation.

Working.

As a fucking food cashier.

He'd gotten a break the second place he bothered to look. An old acquaintance of his was working there as manager. This kid who looks so much like him that it's a little creepy, just like the orange hair the kid had. Ichigo Kurosaki was his name, and they hadn't seen each other since high school. No doubt Ichigo wanted it to stay that way. Too bad. Perhaps, it's time we meet up again.

After a mild scuffle after closing time, minor insults and threats of violence, Shirosaki found himself cruising through the doors the next day for his new job. Only, Ichigo neglected to mention, by accident I'm sure, what exactly I would be doing here.

All damn day I had to repeat the mindless mantra; What would you like to order? Would you like fries with that? That'll be ten fifty, etc.

No fucking way they could pay me enough to wish everybody I saw a "Good Morning!" Or "Good evening." Or to have a pleasant day. Or to enjoy your food. I hope you choke on it! It was so annoying! Pointless and irritating, that's what I spent eight hours of my day doing. Mindless and repetitive, I don't know how I stood it. I was quite proud of myself for not breaking the fatty's nose that kept coming back to order more food. I was preparing to swing when Ichigo caught my eye and shook his head. I sighed, he's right. It wasn't worth it.

That particular day was a real nightmare. Families from back to back with children who shrieked like they were being stabbed with nails; I wondered how they'd scream if someone really stuck them, that thought was enough for me to give the mother a small smile with the food. Rude dicks, who I couldn't hurt or risk being fired, my thoughts were given quite a workout with those but it wasn't nearly enough to give them a, "Have a nice day."

One more hour, just one more hour was a circling chant in my mind to keep from snapping. I was going to make it through the day, that's what I tell myself anyways, but for the three assholes sporting Soul Society colors who swaggered in the door.

They could have gone to fuck with someone else's life but no, of course they had to come right over to me.

The three of them looked like something out of a kids fucking cartoon. All looked to be in their late teens like him but one of them was bald. Who the hell goes bald that young? The one next to him was wearing shades, the hell was his problem? It was after dark, and a short buzz cut. Looked like he was trying to go for the tough guy look and trying way too hard. Shirosaki resisted the urge to crack up as he looked at him.

The one standing behind them was the weirdest of all. He wasn't sure if the thing was male or female, because any tits were nonexistent and he/she had feathers (What the fuck are they doing on his face?) attached to his eyebrows. He was raving about some new beauty product that made his hair shinier to the other two, who were ignoring him.

After the first initial once over he dubbed them all beneath in notice and therefore, not worth his time or effort. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to feel the same way and just kept coming.

"Oi," the baldy yelled, "We wanna order!"

"What'll ya be having?" Shirosaki deadpanned.

"I want two double cheese –"

"No!" the feathered freak interrupted. "I want a salad! All that grease isn't good for my complexion."

Shirosaki twitched.

"Fuck your complexion!" said Shades. "And Ikkaku, I don't want any of that cheap ass cheese."

"Then what the hell do you want?" said Baldy, who's name, apparently, was Ikkaku.

"A tripe burger with no pickles or cheese with extra ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise," said Shades.

The feathered one started talking again, "All that packaged sauce is disgusting and I will not eat it, Iba."

"You don't have to eat it, I will." said Iba, aka Shades.

"I don't care what you guys are getting, I want two double cheese burgers for myself," said Ikkaku.

"How can you be so uncouth when I'm paying?" cried Feather.

"Easily," replied Ikkaku and Iba together.

Shirosaki twitched again. He felt a familiar the area between his shoulders tense, and began clenching and unclenching his fists. The three carried on, unaware of the violent, murderous impulses being squished down mere feet from them.

"Well, I won't buy it, and that's that!" said Feather.

"Aww, c'mon Yumichika, be a pal," wheedled Ikkaku.

Shirosaki growled, he so wanted to smash all their faces into the floor until they were a bloody mess, until they couldn't be told them apart from one another just by facial features. When Iba glanced at him, he covered it up with a forced coughing fit.

"Why don't ya talk amongst yourselves, fer a minute? I'll be right back," he managed to strain out, before executing a swift retreat.

He was hiding in the back room for no more than a few seconds when Ichigo discovered him.

"What the hell are you doing, Shiro?"

"Don't fucking call me that, Strawberry!"

"Don't call me that you bastard! What are doing? Go back to work."

"Just shut up, King! I need a minute to not lose it and slaughter those idiots outside."

"What them?" Ichigo had noticed the trio, they'd been in before, and were generally irritating and a nuisance to whoever had the bad luck to be dealing with them. That was fine with the other employees but with Shirosaki it might mean a visit from the police, and they could not afford that.

"They're nothing. The bugs beneath your feet, right? Now I don't give a shit about your problems, so keep your temper under control, and get your lazy ass back out there on the double." Ichigo strode from the room, and closed the door behind him.

"Yeah," Shirosaki sighed, "bugs." What do you do with insects in the workplace? He blinked at the question that had come floating into his mind from his subconscious, then gave a feral grin. You exterminate them, he thought, to prevent an infestation. He went ruffling through the dull room quickly, straightening up when he found the gold. His grin got bigger.

They really ought to thank me, he thought, wouldn't want such things crawling around in a respectable establishment. He filled his palm with the powdery white substance and shoved it in his pocket. He put the cap back on the bottle and returned it to its place. Feeling ready to face anything he walked back to his station with a spring in his step. Ichigo raised his eyebrows as he went by, but didn't comment.

He faced off with the idiots again who were looking at him expectedly.

"Have ya made a decision yet?" he asked.

"Yeah, ages ago," Iba drawled.

"Where were you? You're lucky we don't call the manager over here," said Ikkaku.

"Right," said Shirosaki, smirking at them all slightly, "Sorry. What'll it be?"

"We'll have a two medium fries, a chicken salad, no dressing, two large Cokes, a medium water, a cheeseburger with everything on it, and a double with no pickles, and extra sauce on the side." Ikkaku reeled out.

"Will that be all?" Shirosaki asked, still with the disturbing smile on his face.

"Yes," said Yumichika.

"Okay, it'll be ready in just a minute. Please take your number," he handed over a slip of cheap paper, reading 78.

` He turned away as they left to find seats and grabbed the food, stuffing it into the bag along with the plastic cups. The only thing he took any care with was the French fries, after shoveling them into their cardboard container he reached his hand into his pocket and grabbed the stuff. Then he poured it all over the fries, adding a substantial amount to each. He looked at it with a critical eye, perfect! Looks just like salt.

He called them back over and handed them the bag. He didn't even twitch when Ikkaku snatched the bag from him, and Yumichika and Iba complained about the wait. He even managed to pull his lips up in an attempt at a smile, and with yellow eyes gleaming, gave his first, and only, "I hope you enjoy your meal."

After they left he breathed a sigh of relief and felt much better. The rest of his shift finished without a problem and he went back to his apartment to crash.

He was irritated when he was awakened the next morning by someone banging on his door. He ignored it, but it only got louder and more persistent. With a muffled curse he rose from his bed, and staggered to the door, considering the wisdom of bringing a metal pipe with him, with which he would beat the someone into unconsciousness, and then he could return to sleep. He wrenched the door open, mildly surprised that the someone was, in fact, more than one, and they both were wearing a cop's uniform, which surprised him much less.

"What do ya want?" he growled. He actually had a pretty good idea. "Do ya know how early it is?" Not that he did, but still.

"Mr. Tetsu, Shirosaki?" the one on the right asked. Shirosaki decided on the spot he would be Beat Droid 1 and the one on the left, Beat Droid 2.

"Yeah?" he said, making it a question.

"We have reason to believe that you may have been involved in criminal activity," said Beat Droid 2.

"Look," Shirosaki said, "I just got up, and I'm a little tired, so could ya just cut to the point?"

Beat Droid 1 exchanged meaningful glances with Beat Droid 2. They both looked at him, blankly. Shirosaki sighed, these could not be the best the city has to protect them from people like him.

"What do ya want?" he clarified.

"We would like you to come down to the station with us," said Beat Droid 1, looking eager to use the large stick by his side if Shirosaki resisted, like it would make a difference against him.

Shirosaki considered his options, instantly. Despite what most people tended to think, and with good reason too, he had a very sharp mind. He could go with the cops, they probably didn't have enough evidence against him and it would be written down as cooperation, which got him points, and if he was convicted he would get a lesser sentence. He could be deliberately difficult, and make them come back with a warrant, which they would, and he'd have to go legally, which would not get him anywhere or a lesser sentence. He could also assault both officers and leave them broken in his hall way which, while being the more fun of the three, would get him another charge.

He mentally sighed. Let's have some fun with this.

"Yeah, sure. Let me just get dressed real fast," he said and shut the door in their stunned faces.

He grumbled as he pulled on clean jeans and threw a black jacket over the dark shirt he already had on. Stupid cops. He stopped a foot from the door, and grabbed his iPod off the counter. Wouldn't do to forget that, now would it?

Ready to go, he walked out of his complex with the Droids behind him, watching his every move. Really, they were so incompetent. It would have been funny were it not so sad. Spotting their ride in the parking lot he walked over and gave it a once over. Even sadder than the pair of them. It was unlocked.

Opening the passenger side he slid into the front seat, slamming the door behind him, and lifting his feet to rest on the dashboard. Plugging in his earphones, he turned the volume up. He glanced over when Droid 1 tapped on the window.

Shirosaki gave a feral grin, "Problem?" he stared right into his eyes, knowing how often his eyes creeped people out.

The Droid broke first. "No," he muttered and went to sit in the back seat.

"Good," he said and leaned his head back, closing his eyes, as one foot tapped to the beat.

At the Station

Shirosaki glanced up at the man who had dared to interrupt his music. He didn't bother to give any semblance of respect to the toadie.

"They're ready for you now."

About time. Shirosaki rose to his feet and followed him into the interview room.

In the Interview

"So," the questioner flipped back several pages, "Shirosaki."

He resisted the urge to laugh. These people were pathetic, insignificant in his view. Not worth worshipping the ground other, more competent members of their species, walked upon.

"Have you heard of something called sodium hypochlorite?"

Of course, I have you idiot. "No, why?"

At the Court

"Shirosaki Tetsu, you are accused of slipping three minors French fries laced with substantial amounts of," the judge paused and shook his head, "powdered bleach with intent to harm and without their knowledge or consent. This resulted in said three minors being instated in a hospital for stomach pumps and several days monitoring."

Shirosaki sighed. Not dead? They either had stocked the cheap stuff or he hadn't added enough. He'd be sure to find out later.

"How do plead?"

"Guilty as charged."

There was a gasp around the room. He snorted, such dramatics. They'd been even more shocked when he'd waived his right to a lawyer. What they didn't realize was that he already knew how this was going to end.

"As a minor, seventeen years of age, we have decided against trying you as a legal adult. You have been sentenced to six months jail time in Karakura Correctional Facility with no chance for bail. Court is dismissed!" and the gravel came down with a bang.

There were cries of outrage from the families of Baldy, Shades, and Feather demanding a harsher punishment but he didn't care. His punishment was actually less than he'd expected. He laughed. Everyone stared at him.

He gave a cheerful wave to the trio from days before huddled in the back of the courtroom, enjoying the way they flinched, as he was escorted from the room.

In the Big House

Jail was actually better than he expected. Sure he was stuck in a cell most of the day while people gawked at him like some rare species, but he didn't have to cook, clean, or (heaven forbid) hold a job to secure the niceties of life.

Shirosaki was relaxing on his cot when the asshole guard came to bang on the bars.

"Hey, Snowflake! You awake? Good news, you're getting your very own cell mate!"

He ignored him, continuing to lounge with his eyes closed. If someone was stupid enough to bother him, he'd just beat the shit out of them, so they huddled in a corner and left him alone the rest of the time he was enjoying his stay.

He heard the door creak open and a person walk in, then the door shut behind him. He thought whoever it was to just crawl over to his portion of the cell, and wallow in the misery of his life. What he was not expecting however, was –

"You bastard, Shiro!" and then someone to leap on top of him in an insane attempt to strangle the life from him.

"What the fuck?" he snapped his eyes open to see a familiar figure wearing a matching orange jumpsuit that clashed horribly with his hair. He jabbed at his assailer's kidneys, "Get off me you bitch."

Falling off the bed Ichigo Kurosaki coughed. "I ask you to control yourself and you do what? Poison them! With products from our restaurant! What were you going to do if they died?"

"I was planning on it actually."

"You were WHAT?"

"God, you're dense. Why the hell are you in here bothering me?"

"They came to my house a day after you were arrested. They charged me with assisting you, and I got the same damn sentence. They fired me at my job too. Do you have any idea how long it took me to get promoted? It's all your fault!"

Shirosaki grinned, sitting up, "Aw, it's not so bad in here. A lot of fun actually. Tell you what, in the next six months we could completely take over this prison. I'll even split the power base with you, 70/30."

Ichigo groaned. "I hate you. You don't even care. This is gonna be high school all over again, isn't it?"

"You better believe it."

"And what bullshit is this 70/30?"

"60/40?"

"50/50!"

"It was my idea! And it's thanks to me we have this wonderful opportunity!"

"Don't remind me."

"60/40?"

"You know what, I don't care. So long as I get the infirmary and cafeteria."

"I want the yard."

"No way!"

"Okay, we'll split the yard."

"Deal."

Shirosaki smirked, "Okay, let's do this!"

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A/N: Aww, poor Shiro, he had to get a job. Please do not attempt to copy Shirosaki's behavior, while it is funny, it will cause a lot of people a lot of problems, and I take no responsibility for it. This is going to be a collection of one/two shots based on international news. A funny and easy way to learn about general society. Of course, it's not exact, but the main idea is there. The original article was:

A six-month jail sentence has been given to a former Bloomfield restaurant worker accused of putting powdered bleach on French fries ordered by three teenagers who argued about their order.

People be doing some weird shit. If you have something good, I'll take requests. Updates are sporadic but hey, I'm procrastinating on something else with this. It's just for fun. Till the next chapter.