Chapter 2
The threesome walked into the apartment upon returning from Hyrule Inc. The place held a general malaise above the roommates despite the fact that Link had just landed a job only hours after being fired from his last. Perhaps this feeling was due to Link's mindset that his new job would be just as unfulfilling as his last. He had the expectation similar to that of a 7-year-old boy just before he opened a gift from his grandmother; he was excited to get a gift even though he knew it was likely a pair of much too long socks with his name embroidered upon each of them with no regard for straight lines or visual aesthetics of any kind.
Thankfully, Link reminded himself, the building would only be a 15-minute bike ride from the apartment, downhill both ways. The three had driven in Jerry's 1995 Toyota Celica for the interview, but only so that they'd get there with plenty of time to spare.
Link dropped himself on the couch in the living room. Zelda followed suit while Jerry began walking towards his room.
"Congrats on the job again, sprout. I'm gonna hit the sack and take a nap real quick before I gotta be in for work at ten. 'Early to bed, early to rise' they always say, but I'm pretty sure Benjamin Franklin had the intelligence of an aborted Cucco. Later." Jerry worked as a night shift manager at a local shipping facility, FairWinds Shipping, which resulted in him usually being at work during the night and sleeping at home during the day.
"T'anks," replied Link. No that was not a typo.
"Sleep well, Jerry," called Zelda. Jerry gave a half-hearted wave over his shoulder as he disappeared down the short hallway to his room. "I don't know about you," she said, turning to Link, "but I'm getting hungry. Wanna cook up something together?"
Link gave a shrug; the kind of shrug that he might give had someone just asked him if it'd be alright if their cat dropped a deuce in his boots.
"Come on, let's see what's in the fridge." Zelda hopped up from the couch and scanned the contents of the kitchen, finally settling on a box of Malon Macaroni. "Here we are! Come on and help me!"
Link knew that making dinner would help take his mind off of the next day, but he still grudgingly wallowed into the kitchen to try making an impression on Zelda that he wasn't too excited.
The two cooked and ate, Link never uttering a complete sentence longer than 4 syllables the whole time while Zelda did all the ordering around in the kitchen and most of the talking while they ate.
"Don't be so worried about tomorrow, Link. Mr. Foreman seemed like a very nice guy to work for, and I'm sure you'll meet some friendly new faces your first day. After a little while of setting in I'm sure you'll feel right at home. Oh! Look at the time! I've got to get ready for my date tonight!" Zelda collected her dishes, filled the dishwasher and scuttled into her room. Scuttling was her preferred method of transportation these days.
Link silently envied Zelda for her ability to constantly go out on the town with her friends and new dates all while being unemployed. Sure, she'd get odd jobs here and there, many of which were for her father or some other royal connection, but for the most part she was a free spirit, constantly getting her father to pay her part of the rent.
Link would occasionally wonder if Zelda had ever thought of him in a romantic way, but would often instantly block the notion out of his mind. She often went for guys that were much flashier then he. Just her last boyfriend was a Dodongo tamer for the local circus. Link specifically disliked that one because of the way he'd visit and then leave the apartment smelling like fire and cat urine, which had always made Link curious.
Before long, Zelda came out of the bathroom in a slight hurry. "If I don't see you again, good luck tomorrow! You'll be awesome!" She gave Link one of those awkward hugs where one person is standing and the other is sitting; where you're not quite sure if you should stand up and prolong the hug unnecessarily or just stay down and look stupid.
She gave a smile and headed out the door.
Link sat on the couch for a while by himself, finishing his plate and picking up the paper to look for any interesting headlines. Something about a Goron using steroids in a recent Goron Race caught his eye, but before he could get to the meat of the story, Jerry's door opened down the hall and the familiar rattle of his bones pre-empted his appearance.
Jerry sat down in the chair opposite the couch and took another sip of his seemingly never-ending mocha frappachino. Link nodded to him and continued reading the story about the juicing Goron.
"Ya know," Jerry started, "it might be good for you to see a few new faces. And you never know if you might find a special lady friend over at this new place." Jerry chuckled slightly and sipped some more creamy goodness from his mug. "And if you find out there's a woman working above you, well, maybe you could work out some... 'special agreements' to help you move up in the company faster."
A long pause fell between the two.
"Why are you staring at me?" Link asked.
"I'm not staring at you."
"You're staring at me."
"No, I'm winking at you." It's rather hard to tell if someone's winking when they have no eyelids, or even eyes for that matter, as was Jerry's predicament.
"You know nobody can tell when you wink, Jerry."
Jerry looked at Link for a second trying to think of something to say.
"Ah, to Hell with it." Jerry rustled in his seat a little bit to alleviate his feeling stupid and tried to find something to take his mind off of it, his vacant ocular cavities darting around the room. "Well, I think I'm gonna head in early. Get some reading done on Walden. Later." Jerry and his mug walked out the front door and Link could hear the familiar sound of his car starting in the parking lot and driving off. Link finished the topic in the paper, cleaned up his dishes, and went to bed.

The following morning Link woke up, stretched out on his bed and traipsed into the shower. Traipsing was his preferred method of transportation these days. He made himself a breakfast of eggs and toast and made a mental reminder to stop at the market and pick up more eggs. Just as he was sitting down to eat Jerry walked in the door, home from the night shift. They exchanged formalities and Jerry went to his room to do who knows what. This morning exchange was not uncommon most days, given Jerry's hours. Zelda was likely still sleeping in her room or still out sleeping in someone else's room. After the first year or so living together, Link had stopped bothering to check where she was.
Link ate his food, unchained Epona from the railing and headed off to his new job. He wasn't told what to wear, so he donned his usual green tunic and leather accessories.
Link arrived with time to spare, locked up Epona, and approached the receptionist, who may or may not have been sniffing the highlighters.
"Hi, I'm the new junior accountant," Link said. The woman at the desk seemed almost startled by him, but upon recognizing his face instantly smiled.
"Oh, hello again!" She began ruffling through some papers on her desk looking for something. "Blink, was it?"
"Link."
"Here you are, Wink," she said, handing him a few papers and a name badge. Link checked the badge to make sure it was correct, which it thankfully was. He didn't want to be introduced as Wink to everyone on the first day. "Mr. Foreman is expecting you just down the hall. He'll glad to show you your desk and give you a general orientation of how things work around here." She shined a glorious botox-induced smile at Link and he walked down the hallway, finding Mr. Foreman's office fairly quickly. He knocked on the already-open door to get his attention, but quickly noticed that no one was at the desk.
Not wanting to be too presumptuous, but still hearing a sound of occupancy, Link leaned in a little further and scanned the room for George Foreman. Right behind the door was Mr. Foreman tending to a pot of coffee. He was quietly singing to himself before he turned around and saw Link right in front of him.
"RRREAAAAAAARRRRRHHHH!" Link froze and Mr. Foreman spilled some coffee from his mug in his startle. "Oh, sorry there, mate! Didn't hear ya come in!" Link's appendages soon came back under his control as George was fixing his mess.
"My apologies again," George said. "I've got that nasty habit of screaming, as you've surely noticed. Anyway, let's have a tour shall we?" It wasn't until just now that Link realized Mr. Foreman was a ReDead that wore a button-up shirt but no pants.
Mr. Foreman and Link walked around the offices visiting many places that Link knew he'd forget two minutes later. They visited the supply closet, the break room, the conference room, and several other small places until they came upon the sea of cubicles that Link feared would be his place of business. He feared it as a Moblin fears a spelling bee. Link saw a few familiar faces among the crowd, but none that he was too familiar with. Mr. Foreman was very kind the whole time, though, which certainly helped.
Eventually Link settled down into his cubicle and Mr. Foreman showed him his general tasks before calling over a passerby. "Ah, now this here is Brad. He's been here for a few months now and he could easily help you out with anything you may need. Any questions 'fore I head out, lad?"
"No, I think I'm good for now, sir," Link replied. His gaze turned to Brad, who had until now been just barely visible above the cubicle wall. As he walked through the wall's opening Link noticed that Brad looked nearly identical to himself, except for the fact that he was entirely an unusual shade of bluish-black and had red eyes. Link peed himself a little at the sight of this monstrosity of a human being.
"Hey new guy, I'm Brad, I've been working here since March and I think I've pretty much got this place figured out, want something to drink? Need anything for your desk?" Brad tried to spin a pen on his fingers and dropped it on the floor, quickly picking it up hoping Link would think nothing of it. "I gotchya, man, I gotchya if you need anything." He spoke as if a terrible fate would fall upon him if he didn't say what he had to say in one giant, speedy sentence.
"Um, no, I think I'm good for now. Thanks, Brad."
"All right, guy, whatever you say." Brad eyed Link's name badge. "Link? Nice." Link eyed the massive headset on Brad's head.
"Headset? … Nice."
"Well," Brad continued, "I'll be getting back to my work. If you need anything just find me, guy. I'm in the cubicle at the end of this row. Laters!" Link was slightly off-set by Brad's demeanor, but was still glad to know that he could go to someone if he was confused.
Before Link could even begin setting up his desk a voice called him from the opposite side of his computer. "Brad's a bit of a spazz if you haven't already noticed." Link whipped around in his swivel chair to see a purple-haired girl's face resting on her arms on his cubicle wall. "Hi, I'm Shannon, but you can call me Shan," she said as she extended an arm out for a handshake over the wall coupled with a beautiful, almost seductive smile and angle of her eyes. It was one of those awkward handshakes where one person is standing and the other is sitting; where you're not quite sure if you should stand up and prolong the handshake unnecessarily or just stay down and look stupid.
"Hi Shan. Link. You- you look really familiar. Have we met before?"
"Possibly. Ever go Bombchu Bowling?"
"Ah! That's it! You work the Bombchu Bowling Alley! Second job here?"
"Nah, the alley closed up several years ago after the town became infested with ReDeads. Turns out they were just looking for jobs but no one bothered to ask."
"That shit's rigged, son!" Link yelled out, nearly breaking the armrests off of his chair.
"Psh, tell me about it," Shan replied, completely unphased by Link's mercurial attitude. "Some of the Bombchus were built to go off at weird angles after they were deployed. Plus we had PETA breathing down our necks for, you know, putting live Cuccos on the courses. Apparently treating Cuccos like a Nazi bunker is wrong, I dunno. It was kind of a blessing in disguise to have the place close since now I work here."
"How'd you find the place?" Link inquired.
"Mr. Foreman was one of the ReDeads looking for a job, so he and I met and started job hunting until we came upon this place. Don't those leather gloves get in the way?" she added, noticing Link's unusual apparel.
"Meh, it's a living." Link was starting to finally relax thanks to Shan.
"Cool. Well, if you need anything I'll be right over this wall." Shan disappeared over the wall and went back to her work.

The rest of the day went by fairly normally for Link. Much of it was spent watching training videos on his computer and taking trips to the water cooler. Little real work was actually done. Every now and again Link would hear familiar voices but didn't feel like checking to match a face. A few people came into his cubicle throughout the day to say hello and give their greetings to the new guy. Among them were Ingo the former ranch-hand and one of the carpenters he had freed from the Gerudo Fortress prison years ago, Sabooro. Brad could be often heard wandering from cubicle to cubicle trying to make small talk with other employees. Most of these conversations were short-lived.
George Foreman came around a few times to make sure Link was doing well. Link knew it would be a while until he got used to working for a half-naked, British ReDead, but he began to really like his new job. The pay was better than his previous jobs and there was no risk of getting Epona's chain snagged while he was on the clock, a problem that plagued his last job like the way Leevers plague an otherwise perfect day on the beach.
As the day neared its end, Link finished up the last of his training videos that he could cram and started for the exit. As he walked out he saw several cubicles with little personal knick-knacks, pictures, and posters of cats that somehow ended up on a clothes wire hanging on by one paw. If PETA were hounding the Bombchu alley, they certainly should be going for the sick bastards that made these posters, Link thought to himself. Seeing all the cubicles, however, made him think of what he might like to bring in to make his work quarters a little more liveable.
Link said goodbye to Shan, Mr. Foreman, and the receptionist, who may or may not have been sniffing the Sharpies, got on Epona, and headed home.