By the time 11:30 PM rolled around Randy was compliantly exhausted. He could barely make it through the last half hour of cleaning up and returning his suit to the company. It was extremely refreshing to change back into his regular cloths, as he slowly made his way off the boat and towards his beat-up Ford truck in the far parking lot. He was one of the few cars parked in the back employee parking lot. The fatigue didn't faze him as he made his way, smiling, to his 30-year-old hunk of steal that would likely give out on it at any moment. The cool breeze outside was nice, but he still couldn't wait to get home to his sister's condo and pass out. He was so tired he actually was considered not bothering to drink anything before bed. Which was a lot coming from the struggling squirrel alcoholic.

When Randy finally spotted his truck, he picked up his pace a little as the excitement of finally being free for the night raced through his head. However, he quickly slowed down as he got closer to the front end and noticed a figure leaning on his tailgate blowing smoke into the air. By the time Randy was within 100 feet of the vehicle was he finally able to make out the person sitting on his bumper, and this caused him to slow his pursuit even more before coming to a complete stop at his driver side door. The other man kept his back to Randy until the younger squirrel finally spoke up.

"Can I help you, sir?" Randy asked with confusion.

Proton stood up and then turned around. He took one more puff on his cigar before discarding it on the ground and seemed to snuff it out by stepping on it. The older male adjusted the collar of his suit, that he had been wearing earlier, and then walked over so he was now standing in front of Randy. The two male squirrels were very close to the same height, but Proton did stand at least an inch taller than his low leveled employee.

"I was hoping we could help each other, actually." Proton let a small smile briefly pass over his lips after answering Randy's question before his face went back to business as usual.

Randy shifted his stance as he became a little uneasy. His worry must have crept on his face as Proton chucked, and smiled again.

"I had nothing too scandalous in mind, so you have no need to worry. And you are in no way obligated to agree to the position I am here to offer you. It's just that you..." He paused a moment and then titled his head a bit to look over Randy before readjusted his collar again. "You'd fit the role nicely."

"What role?" Randy was now feeling even more uncomfortable as it looked as though his employer had just sized him up like a fresh cut steak in a butcher's window.

"You said you were looking to make some money fast, correct? Well, I am in need of a new waiter for a yacht party I'm having next weekend. It's a five-to-six-hour outing, and the pay is five thousand dollars."

Randy was shocked. Five thousand was a lot of money for serving drinking on a boat to rich people. There had to be a catch, and even though he knew he shouldn't ask the dollar figure before him made it so he'd rather ask questions that walk away from the trouble he knew he was about to get into. Randy took in a large breath but as he opened his mouth he was cut off by Proton.

"I already know that you want to know the details, and yes this isn't just a normal waiting job. You'd be dressed in an over sexualized manor and have to put up with some on this boat touching you and flirting. Some will proposition you for some private time, which you are welcome to agree to on your own terms, but you are only allowed three such breaks for a maximum time of thirty minutes. Most of the other waiters agree to this as the gratefulness of my guests can more than triple their earnings for the outing. But again, you have every right to refuse, as a few of my regulars do." Proton rubbed his hands together and breathed out deeply seeming relieved he had finally got all the details of the job offer out in the light.

"So, it's like a signals party?" Randy asked getting a laugh out of Proton.

"Not at all. And I should probably bring up that all my friends and colleges, that will be onboard, are male, but some enjoy the company of other men when not in the presences of their wives. That's why I have two male waiters and four females. I don't partake in any of the less savory behavior, as I got that out of my system in my youth. However, it is a party so I want to provide everything that can be found enjoyable to my guests." Proton smiled as he watched the younger man deliberate in his own mind. He'd seen the look many times before and before Randy even answered knew he had him.

"So I don't have ta agree ta the other stuff?" Randy questioned seemed somewhat desperate for reassurance. "Cause I ain't gay, but I can pretend ta like 'em, and stuff, as long as I don't have ta do anything... well... ya know..."

"I swear you don't have to agree to anything you don't want to do, and if someone gets too fresh with you then you can let me know and I'll take care of it. With this being your first job, I'll even allow you a thirty-minute break alone to recoup without a dock in pay. Do we have a deal?" Proton put out his hand wanting to finalize things.

Randy looked at Proton's extended hand knowing damn well this was a very bad idea, but the money had him hooked before the purple furred squirrel had finished telling him all the dirty details. Randy looked up at Proton's face and gave an awkward smile before grasping the other man's hand and shaking. "Alright."

"Great!" Proton exclaimed as he reached his free hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "All the details are on here. I'll see you at 9:00 AM next Saturday. Until then!" The older man wiped off his hands on his suit jacket before turning around and making his way back to a dark sports car a few rows in front of Randy's truck.

Randy watched his boss leave without turning back. He then looked down at the folded sheet of paper in his hand and took a heavy swallow of his on saliva. "It's five thousand dollars." He kept saying lowly to himself on the road home as if he was trying to justify his recent bad decision to his more reasonable side.