INSTALLATION 1:
"Grelle Sutcliff!" the clerk called.
She ran up to the window and timidly answered with a nod. The man at the window gave her a disapproving glance. He pushed thick glasses up a long nose and squinted down at her file, wrinkling up half of his face in an expression of perpetual contempt. He devoured the page with his cataract-eyes as if it were a scandalous magazine made purely for his entertainment.
"HQ Dispatch listing 63113-666, Present," he stamped the corresponding box with a violent thud. "For violation of orders," he flipped through two page of paperwork, astonished, "orders 1 through 79, it seems."
He looked up. Grelle concentrated on a smudge on her shoes, and missed the clerk's eye-rolls.
"Resulting in immediate suspension until further notice."
Grelle tugged at her bowtie for air and maintained composure. Her eyes were filling up as if water were being poured into a cup. It was completely involuntary.
"Signed W.T. Spears, Superior, relegating Mister Sutcliff," he looked up at the 'Mister' and sighed deeply, as if giving up on the world, "to 300 hours of service, starting Saturday at seventeen hundred hours. Sign here."
He chucked the pen at her and her shinigami reflexes caught it before it rolled off the counter. But her hands were shaking and she signed in trembling red ink. The clerk tore off the bottom half of the sheet with expert boredom and flung it at her.
"NEXT! Jordan Seymour!"
Grelle stood paralyzed for a moment, staring with hollow, reddened eyes at particularly nothing until she was able to focus on the clerk's expression of "why-are-you-still-here?" He looked her up and down with thinly-veiled disgust, and she ran out.
TBC