Chapter 3
On Wednesday, I summon the dispatched death gods.
Wednesday morning, Will watched as the reapers in his division slowly trickled back from their reaping jobs. It was time for them to fill out the necessary paperwork, which everybody hated (except Will, apparently), and it was not uncommon to see Will grabbing up his death scythe and storming out to get dilly-dalliers (usually Sutcliff and Knox). He would invariably come back after about fifteen minutes, dragging Grell by the hair and Ronald by his ear, with his lawn mower death scythe in tow. The sight usually cheered up the office. Even though it was a little cruel to be laughing at Grell and Ronald, nobody could deny it was a funny sight. And when they decided to get revenge, it was doubly funny to watch Will chasing the two reapers around the office. After he had coralled everyone behind their desks, Grell would goof off, Eric would pretend to be looking over a report but would be actually staring at Alan's ass, Ronald would have snuck a bottle of beer into the dispatch and would usually be drinking from it, and Alan (as always) would be trying to get his work done: the only one in the ofice apart from William. Yes, Wednesdays were usually the highlight of the week. Well, not for Will, that is.
(A.N. Happy Hump Day everyone! Yay Wednesday!)
