As it turns out, scooping ice cream and putting it in a cone is not very hard. But every employee of Inside Scoop had to go through a rigorous training process before they could venture out into the real world.

Massie felt sick. Food and work? She was going to die here. She was going to kick the bucket. She would breathe in all the toxins the customers brought in with them.

SHE WAS GOING TO CATCH AIDS, SHE JUST KNEW IT.

"Massie, are you okay? Massie?" A shrill, high-pitched voice rang out. It sounded a bit like Claire. Or a broken whistle.

Massie stared on ahead. She was thinking about writing her autobiography on how she was treated like a slave. It would sell for millions of dollars, and she would probably get a Nobel Peace prize.

"Massie, are you ALIVE?"

Massie snapped out of her day dream. Her boss was standing in front of her, tapping his clipboard on her head.

"Yeah," She said brusquely. "I'm like, totally fine. Please stop like, HITTING me on the HEAD."

Her boss lowered the clipboard. Mr. Bill looked a bit sorry.

"Alright," He cleared his throat. "Let's continue your aptitude test. You've only got one left."

Massie scoffed.

"What aptitude? It's like, ice cream. Ohmigawd."

Ignoring her comments, Mr. Bill continued. "What do you do when a customer is hungry, but can't decide between a vanilla and a chocolate cone, what do you say?"
"…Suggest he go on the Atkins diet?" Massie trailed off. She really was no good at this.

"No," Said the eighty year old ice cream salesman. A drastic change in personality was present. "YOU TELL HIM TO GET ANOTHER SCOOP, MASSIE! WHAT GOES ON IN YOUR HEAD? WORTHLESS CHILD! I HATE MY JOB!"

Massie stared at him. Mr. Bill had reached breaking point. Maybe she'd tormented him a little too much.

"WE'VE BEEN DOING THIS FOR THREE HOURS! YOU GOT ONE QUESTION RIGHT! ONE RIGHT! OUT OF SEVERAL THOUSAND! AND THAT WAS ABOUT FROZEN YOGURT! I POISONED THE FROZEN YOGURT!"

Massie looked bored. Mr. Bill quieted down a bit.

"Nobody orders frozen yogurt. Please don't tell the Health Inspector."

"Hire me." Massie said, a malicious grin spreading on her face. This way, she would keep her credit cards and control her boss. And get PAID to be a complete bitch.

"You failed…" Mr. Bill said, looking confused. "I can't hire a failure…"

"Yes, you can." Massie replied. "You can, or I'll call the Health Inspector. And you'll get shut down faster then you can say mint chocolate chip."

Mr. Bill sighed. Sometimes, he wished he was in a retirement home.

---

Customer Number One

---

"I'm huuunnnnnnngry…" A little girl whined, pulling on her father's coat. "I want some ice cream…"

The father looked pretty busy to Massie. He was talking angrily on his cell phone.

After speaking for about five minutes to some guy named Al, the father shut his phone. He wretched himself away from his daughter's grasp, and the girl fell down. She started crying. "Here's a fifty. Spend it all, and buy as much food as you want. I don't know when you'll get it again. I'm going to be at the gun store, buying us protection."

The little girl stared at her father, her tears gone. She held out her tiny hand, and the money was deposited.

She skipped over to the counter as the father exited the Carb Factory. Massie had begun calling it that after several arguments-for-bulimia had walked in.

"I'd like the Chalklat and Marmellows." The little girl whispered, sounding a lot like Cindy Brady.
Here's the story, of a lovely lady, who was bringing up three very lovely girls...

SO NOT THE TIME, MASSIE. DO YOU WANT PEOPLE TO KNOW YOU WATCH TV LAND IN YOUR SPARE TIME?

Massie filed her nails.

"I don't feel like it," She remarked, looking at her cubicles.

The little girl frowned, and began stomping her feet.

"Give me sthome ice cream, you crazy witch! Or I'll tell my parents you've been abusing me!"

Only she didn't say witch. Really, it was astounding to Massie the language the kids know these days.

Massie leaned over the counter, and flicked the top of the girl's head.

"Would you like to fly?"

"Huh?" The little girl asked.

"Good, 'cause you're going to be a blimp."

The little girl stared at Massie, completely perplexed.

---

Customer Number 2

---

Claire stared at all the ice cream flavors.

"Well?" Massie demanded. She had called Claire earlier, and demanded that Claire drop what she was doing to come worshi-

Visit Massie at work.

Claire, being a complete pushover and doormat, agreed. Cameron Fisher was still sitting on the couch, blindfolded, waiting for his girlfriend to come out with his birthday cake.

"They aren't very appetizing. In fact, they're evil. I'm the only thing GOOD and PURE in this ice cream hell! I wish I had been born evil! Then, at least, I wouldn't be so shocked! Can people really be so mean, as to invent such bad fla-"

"Kuh-laire," Massie interrupted. "Pick something, or I'm throwing you out of The Pretty Committee."

Claire sighed. "I want strawberry. In a chocolate cone. With gummy worms on top, because that is what pure people pick."

"Alright, but before you ingest those awful extra carbs, listen up." Massie went to scoop up Claire's ice cream, and then continued to be a bitch. "You can't tell anybody about what I'm doing here. It would totally ruin my rep. I'd be laughed out of the cafeteria."

Claire nodded solemnly, and made the Girl Scout's sign.

---

Customer Number Three (Through six…)

---

Dylan, like Claire, stared at all the ice cream flavors before her. Kristen to a seat on one of the retro, neon-colored chairs and Alicia snapped pictures of the shop with her cell phone.

"Alright." Massie said angrily. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, CLAIRE?"

"I- uh, um-" Claire stuttered. Massie was such a bully.

"Why would you do that? Bring over my cult follow- FRIENDS and have them see how I'm being mistreated! That was supposed to wait for my memoirs. Besides," And here Massie lowered her voice to a whisper. "They're total backstabbers. They'd tell everybody I'm at the Inside Scoop, ladling out Cherry Garcia for the TLCTRDOGYOU."

Claire first pretended to know what the initials meant. Then she bowed to Massie.

"Please, Massie." She groveled. "Exonerate me, for I have sinned."

"I instantly forgive you." Massie said, leaning forward across the counter. Her face looked devious. "But first, you have to do something embarrassing."

"Like what?" Claire asked. Claire always liked to throw herself into these positions. It made things interesting.

Massie held the cone she was preparing to give Dylan (since it said on the first book, summary: 'Massie's second in command.' Then it changed to Alicia. Then to Claire…). It was full of pistachio.

Pistachio is green, sticky, and from Massie's own experience, hard to clean off.

"Perfect." Massie thought, and aimed the cone directly to Claire's chest.

Claire screamed, and flailed her arms around wildly.

"You- Massie, you complete witch!" Claire screamed.

"Completely forgetting that Claire called us all up, and had us take pictures of what could have been her untimely demise." Alicia remarked, aiming her cell phone camera at Claire. "Oh, well."

Dylan laughed from behind her palm at Claire. Kristen burst into hysterics. Alicia snapped photos.

Claire's face reddened.

"Give me that." Claire said sharply to Alicia, and took her cell phone. Alicia protested. Claire kicked her. "I'm going to take a picture of myself, and call it Rock Bottom. Anytime Massie tries to be friends with me, I'm going to remember this."

"Want to be best friends?" Massie asked, testing her.

"Oh my God, I knew being a good and pure person would pay off! Of course!" Claire replied gleefully.

"Well, that lasted longer then Claire's photography career." Dylan commented.

(A/N: Remember how Claire magically stopped wanting to be a photographer? AND THEN CLAIMED SHE TOOK ACTING LESSONS SINCE SHE WAS FREAKING EIGHT.)

Claire huffed.

"I can't help it if Lisi Harrison keeps changing me." Claire frowned. "I'm just glad I'm not Kristen."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kristen said, widening her sky blue eyes. Then she put in colored contacts. "I don't get it. Nothing is changed about me. I mean, my eyes are still a nice lime green."

"Hey, Kristen!" Dylan called from over the ice cream containers. Dylan had climbed over the counter, and was now eating half of the merchandise. "I got you a cone. It's a berry flavor, so it's navy to match your eyes. Isn't that cool?"

Kristen sighed, and put in another set of colored contacts. Her eyes were starting to hurt.

Massie whined, and all eyes directed to her.

"Stop complaining about your stupid characters! I'm going to get-"

Mr. Bill came out from the back room. He pushed past Dylan, and stood in front of Massie.

"Miss Block?" He looked down at her. "I just spent the last couple hours researching blackmail, which you are guilty of. I could have you in jail for SEVERAL YEARS. Now, you can quit, or I'LL SEND YOU TO THE BIG HOUSE, MUHWHAHAHAHAHAH!"

Claire, Dylan, Alicia, Massie and Kristen all carefully backed away, exited the store, and waited for Mrs. Kendra Block to come and pick them up.

---

Massie's a little busy bee of a worker, isn't she?

And also, I apologize for making you wait three days. Updates are hard to finish when your computer keeps shutting down.

...Anyway, when you review, my crayon-scented erasers, please tell me what job you think Massie should have next. I'm puzzled at what to do.