Disclaimer: not mine, don't sue
Spoilers: season three
I'm had just about enough of this job. The store manager is a jerk, my customers are insane, and just can't take it anymore. I've to do something about this supermarket before I completely lose it. And I'm not the only one who feels this way. But I guess I should start at the beginning. My name is Kenny Driscoll and I work at the local Shaw's. I sell fish three or four afternoons a week in the seafood department. My department manager, Captain Mike, (at least that's what he calls himself) is a good guy. I don't think wanted his career to end in the fish department, but with Sam in charge of the store, he'll be stuck here with me till retirement.
Actually, I have no intention of working here forever, either. I just need to hang on to this job (and my sanity) for another two semesters. Then I leave here to get real job. Lately, I've been feeling like I can't hold out that long. Something has to done. Very special people called managers run this store. A few of are nice people, but the vast majority is either mean or incredibly stupid. Usually, it's a little of both.
Anyway, right now I'm behind the seafood counter, staring of into space and wondering if I'm actually going to have a reasonable number of sales today. If I worked on commission, I'd have starved to death months ago. I had just heard Sam, who is referred to as "the fat man" when he isn't around, tell me that the seafood department needs to stay open until eight thirty instead of eight o'clock. Most of the time, customers don't show up after seven-thirty. I wasn't sure how paying me to stand around for an extra half hour as going do the store any good, but you don't question the fat man if you value your job.
Then he yells at me because there was no more haddock in the case (we had run out a few hours before). I just stood there until he finished explaining that I could be replaced if I didn't watch the attitude. Seafood has trouble hanging on to new employees, which is the probably the only reason I haven't been fired yet.
Finally Sam walks away as I quietly wonder how I can topple the fat, dumb manager and his sadistic ways. I think the man only works as a boss so he make other people miserable. I know I can't do this alone.
My friend Joey, who works next door in the deli, watched Sam walk away. Steve has worked at least as long as I have and hates Sam even more than I do. He shifts his attention to me.
"Don't worry about that asshole. We're not gonna work here forever." He pointed out.
"That's not the point. He shouldn't be allowed to treat his employees that way."
"Yeah, but what can we do about it?"
"I'm working on that." I lower my voice. Brian, one his loyal and idiotic spies, is within earshot. "We should organize a mutiny."
"You're insane." Joe returned to his work. "But if you want think this through, we both have a break in a few hours." He knew that while I seem a bit eccentric, if I could come up with a plan we would probably succeed. He also wanted Sam to get what's coming to him at as much as I did.
For some reason, the deli manager chose that moment to give the evil eye. Her name is Sue. She's not one of Sam's lapdogs, but she certainly is a bitch.
I returned to polishing the stainless steel countertops. They were already shiny enough to see your face in, but with the bosses hanging around, you've got to look busy. It's a typical Wednesday afternoon, which means there are very few customers around. I had already cleaned, polished, and scrubbed everything I was supposed to at least twice already. I couldn't mop the floor until after I took a break, so I ducked out of sight of the cameras and opened my book. I was rereading Treasure Island, one of my favorites. I glanced up every so often to make sure none of the all-important customers were near my department. I still wonder how I ended up in seafood. I hate fish. It smells funny back here and of course, I'm the one who was ordered to figure out why.
Sam is upset the fish area smells funny. I don't think that smell is from a fish, though. My aunt works as a coroner, and sometimes she comes home smelling like the seafood does now. I don't think I really want to find the source.
I'm staying with my aunt now while I go to college in New York. The only thing I don't like about living here is the baseball team. My regular home is in Boston, and my Red Sox cap had gotten more than a few nasty looks. I really don't care. The Yankees suck and they always will.
A few minutes go by and a customer has me skin about three pounds of Atlantic salmon. Whenever I really do have a customer, they either want something ridiculous or don't buy enough to be worth the effort. Of course, my favorites are the ones that need ten lobsters steamed at eight forty five.
Sue watched me carefully skin the fish as one of her own employees sells a customer cheese that was supposed to be out of code yesterday. She only goes after me for some reason. I ignore her and expertly skin the guy's fish. I finished it faster then I expected to and the customer even says I did really good job. I thank him and take a closer look. I noticed I was looking at Sheldon Hawkes. He works with my aunt. Dr. Hawkes winks at me. I grin back at him and tell him to have a good evening.
When he leaves, Sue looks at me. She took minute to decide what to say. Sue settled on saying. "I never noticed you were left-handed."
I just shrugged. I've worked here for a long time, and doubt that's first time she's seen that I happen be to a southpaw. Sue just need to something odd about how I did my job.
"Why does matter?" I roll my eyes at her. Sue walks away; annoyed she hadn't found a way to yell at me. The next half-hour passed like that. Joe and I hurried upstairs. We had fifteen minutes to find a way to unite the entire store against the Fat Man and his cooperate drones. I just hoped another bald man with a moustache didn't replace him. We decided to leave the plans out in the break room, bulletin boards, and anywhere the regular associates like Joe and me would have access.
We left coded messages detailing when we strike, and who should bring the water balloons. Stuff like that. Our goal was not to hurt anyone, just teach them all a lesson that would go down in the Shaw's history forever. We slowly gathered silly string, water balloons, paintball guns, water guns, potato guns, eggs etc. and found fellow rebels.
We planned it out in detail. I even found another job because there was no way in hell I would be able to keep my job when we were finished.
Joe and I picked a day, and the next time the Fat Man was bullying someone, I gave the word over the intercom. "The Fat Man has landed!"
All hell broke loose. I grabbed my rotten egg grenades and water pistol (filled with chocolate syrup), found two cans of silly string, and joined the party. As managers ran out to sales floor to what was wrong, a volley of eggs and water balloons erupted from the second floor. Any associates near a hose dowsed nearby authority figures. Silly string and eggs soared from all directions. I chased down Sue and showed her exactly how I felt about her. Somehow, Sam spotted me in the chaos. He waddled toward me and I fired my chocolate syrup onto his $300 suit.
I'll never be sure who called the police, but Mac, the guy my aunt was seeing, who also happened to be a cop, showed up shortly after that. He surveyed the destruction I had caused and shook his head, not sure of what to say.
Danny, another member of team, looked at the mess, and then at me.
"I knew there was something funny about him." He sounded much more amused then Mac looked.
"You just think any Red Sox fan must out their mind." We often teased one another's baseball teams, but Danny and I actually get along very well.
Mac wasn't listening. "I smell a body."
"Well, all I did was have little fun. I didn't hurt anyone."
"I'll deal with you later." He still wasn't sure weather he should laugh or send me to an institution when I saw what I did to that store.
Donald Flack arrived a few minutes later. Danny told him what I did.
"Wow, kid. You know how to throw a party." He thought it funny, too.
Mac rolled his eyes. He didn't think that I should complemented for destroying my place of work.
"What? Have you ever worked this type job? Every one that that has been forced to work retail has always wanted to do this."
Lindsay was right behind him. "What's that smell?"
"That's what I'd like to know." He followed his nose right into my department. "It's coming from above."
Danny now noticed the smell as well. He climbed on a cabinet to access the ceiling tiles. He carefully slid one aside. I'm not exactly sure what happened next. Suddenly, he had fallen on the floor and a dead guy was hanging from the ceiling above.
"So that's what I've been smelling." Sam has finally gotten a chance to speak with the cops. He seemed surprised. Sam turned his attention to me. "You're lucky I'm not going to press charges for vandalism. You and Joseph are both fired."
Joe walked over to him. "I bet your bosses out in Iowa are going to love this. You sure you don't want to pretend if never happened?"
"They already are aware. My last action as store manager is firing you two. If My career is over, so is yours."
"Expect I have no intention of working in retail ever again." I had gotten an entry-level position in a graphic design company.
Meanwhile, Mac was calling my aunt as Flack helped Danny to his feet. He and Lindsay took a closer look at the gruesome discovery. I glanced over. You might think I'm a bit of ghoul, but dead bodies had never bothered me and I bet you'd have looked, too. I recognized the unfortunate man hanging from ceiling.
"Holy shit! Isn't that Kevin?" Kevin was next in line for the management position when he just disappeared. I had a funny feeling the fat bastred that is now running the store was responsible, but I knew that saying anything without being able to prove it would just make Taylor think I'm even more insane then he already does. Besides, he's a smart guy. He'll figure it out.
Danny looked at me. "You know who this is?"
"He was Sam's assistant. He just kind of disappeared one day."
"Well, there's a bullet wound in head, so somebody murdered him. Know anyone that may have a reason to?" he asked to both Sam and me.
"Can't remember anything specific." I had no real reason to believe the boss shot him, besides the fact that Sam is an asshole.
"No. Everybody liked Kevin."
That was exactly why he didn't, but I kept that thought to myself for the time being.
Aunt Peyton arrived on the scene a few minutes later. She took in the mess I had caused and shook her head. "I don't even want to know."
"You are aware that your nephew happened to be the main cause of this chaos." Mac was making sure she knew that I was a rotten troublemaker.
Now that everyone was there, I decided to set the record straight. "You should also know that Sam here has had this coming for a long time. I wouldn't have been able to do this if I was the only one that felt that he needed to be taught a lesson. Besides, I didn't hurt anyone and no permanent damage had been done."
Aunt Peyton looked at the gunshot wound. "It looks the gun was against his head when it was fired. And I'd estimate the time of death as about two weeks ago. The AC probably slowed down the decomp a bit."
Lindsay interrupted me. "Doesn't look like he was shot here. There's not enough blood down here, and I'm willing to bet most of it is from the fish, anyway."
Danny just shook his head. He hated fish even more then I did. "How can you work down here?"
"I can no longer smell anything."
"That explains a lot." Aunt Peyton was trying to be funny. She had the body ready to go a few minutes later. I just ignored Messer's smirk and offered to show the CSI team the rest of building. Flack and Danny accompanied me up to the second floor.
Danny found lots of blood in the conference room. "Looks like I found the primary crime scene." Flack got Mac's attention by leaning over a railing and waving. Taylor and Lindsay were upstairs minutes later. They took the room apart, much to the distress of Sam and the rest of the managers. Flack peaked in all the offices and came back with a gun. "Got a murder weapon." He handed the gun to Mac, who found blood on the muzzle, then placed it in an evidence bag.
"Where'd you find you find it?"
"The store manager's office."
Sam was beginning to sweat despite the fact the AC was up way too high. "I keep that in case of robbery. If that's the murder weapon someone must have taken it from my office."
I decided that he needed help digging his own grave. "Mac, he keeps that office locked unless he's in the building and planning to return quickly." Sam gave me an evil look. I responded with a shark-like grin. "Ask anyone that works up here."
Meanwhile, Danny had been going through the book keeping office. "Wow. There's a lot of money missing here. Bet I know where to find it." He used Sam's computer to access his recently created savings account. He showed it to the rest of the team. To Sam he said, "You're just not very bright, are you?"
Sam turned to run, but Flack was right there. "I bet he Kevin figured it out, to. Is that why you shot him?"
He sighed. "The store is going under anyway. I was just gonna get my share before the guys in Iowa figure out what's going on." Sam paused. "Kevin was going stop me from being able to retire from retail forever. I didn't think I'd be able to handle working here another five or ten years."
Mac just shook his head. "Is working in a supermarket really that terrible?"
A half dozen brave employees screamed a resounding "YES!"
I smirked at him. "At least I didn't kill anyone."
A/N: I know I haven't written for a while, but my computer is acting funny and I've been short on time. This is just me venting about how much my job sucks before I shoot somebody. Please tell me what you think. Thanks.
