A/N: Lack of updates are due to me working on my other 2 stories, but I have not forgotten about this one. I got my Disturbed playing in my ears, and I'm ready to write! (Disturbed is an awesome band! Check them out)
Rigby pathetically tried to lift the trash bag out of the bin, but unfortunately, he was way too small to carry it.
"Ugh! This is too hard!" Rigby groaned, still straining to lift the bag out of the bin. "Mordecai usually has this job." At his words, he sudden shut himself up. The memory of Mordecai lying motionlessly in a hospital bed stung quite a bit. It had been only three hours since they left the hospital, and it had barely left his mind the entire time. Then the house phone rang.
Rigby, eager to find an excuse not to be working, rushed to the phone.
"Hello?" Rigby said.
"They found the guys," Margaret said on the other line. Rigby knew what she meant about 'guys.' The people who drove Mordecai off the road. Rigby was sort of glad they were caught, but it was disappointing to Rigby he couldn't do some damage with his fists. (-_- The mind of a Rigby.)
"How?" Rigby said.
"They had gone to a repair shop to fix the damage to their car. The owner recently saw the accident on TV, and saw that the dents on their car matched with the dents on the car he saw. Takes a keen eye to notice things like that, but he called the police and kept them occupied long enough for them to arrive. It was pretty lucky," Margaret explained.
"Yeah, no kidding. What are they going down for?" Rigby said.
"Attempted murder and breaking and entering. They got the story from Eileen and that's that. It's over and done with," Margaret said.
"Is it on the news?" Rigby asked.
"Not yet. Working at the news station gives me early access to this information. I'm about to air in a few minutes though," Margaret said.
"Are you satisfied with them just going to jail? I'm not," Rigby said.
"Right now, that's the most we can get. Plus, jail isn't exactly the most fun thing in the world. People turn in there if you know what I mean," Margaret said.
Rigby grimaced. Yeah, that's definitely good enough.
"Ugh. Yeah, unfortunately I do know. I'll see you later," Rigby said.
"Bye," Margaret said, hanging up.
"Who were you talking to?" Benson asked, walking in the door.
Rigby jumped back and clutched his heart.
"Do you always have to do that?" Rigby asked.
"I just have the right timing. Now answer the question, because you're supposed to be working," Benson said, crossing his arms.
"I have three things to say about that. Firstly, the phone rang and I answered it. Second, it was Margaret and the guys who ran Mordecai of the road, and third, I can't even lift the trash bag!" Rigby said, throwing his hands up.
"Should've figured that. Here, I'll help you just because you're unable to do it," Benson said, walking in the kitchen and grabbing the trash bag. "You really need to get stronger."
"Exercise is hard!" Rigby groaned.
"No, you're just lazy. At least when Mordecai works, he does an effective job. You half do everything, or don't do it at all," Benson said.
"I'm not as strong as Mordecai," Rigby defended.
"Strength has nothing to do with laziness," Benson said, walking out of the door. "If you work harder, I can go easier on the both of you. I yell at the both of you because of you most of the time."
"Why bother yelling at Mordecai?" Rigby asked.
"Cause that makes him urge you to do your work. It doesn't seem to work very much," Benson said, his tone curt.
"Well, excuse me that I'm not used to working. I just hate it," Rigby said.
"You don't think I hate my job? You've got it 10 times easier than I do when you screw up. When I screw up, Maellard's on my case quickly and fiercely. But that's the real world. Grow up Rigby. Once Mordecai quits, you won't have an easy way out anymore," Benson said, walking back out of the house.
Rigby stood on the spot, transfixed at his boss' words. He knew that Benson was right, but Rigby didn't simply want to get used to the fact that he would have to... ugh, work hard.
When Rigby was a child, work was practically never a thing when it came to him. His parents always did it so he didn't have to. It's what makes him hate working at all. Don was still the more favored child, but that doesn't mean Rigby wasn't a stranger to some spoiling. In retrospect, it may have been too much.
The ringing of the phone jarred Rigby out of his daze and he answered it immediately.
"Hello?" he said, trying to forget Benson's horrifyingly accurate words.
"Rigby?! Oh, thank goodness. It's Mordecai. He's in the hospital," a woman on the other line said.
Rigby winced and had to pull the phone away from him out of a sudden impact of guilt. Rigby didn't bother to think about Mordecai's parents in this particular situation.
"Um, I actually knew that he was in there. We had already gone to visit him already," he said with a wince, knowing her voice was about to raise. Sure enough...
"What?! You didn't bother to let us know?!" she yelled, making Rigby back the phone away from his ear. "My baby..."
Suddenly, he could hear Mordecai's dad come and talk to her for a little bit before he took over the phone.
"Sorry Rigby. She's just a little distraught at the news. I certainly am, but I understand why you didn't tell us. It was the last thing on your mind at the moment. For that I don't fault you," Mordecai's dad said before his tone quickly turned angry all of a sudden. Those stupid a-"
"Let's not get to angry here. They're locked up, so nothing we can do but hope they stay where they are," Rigby said grudgingly.
"Hopefully. Anyway, we're going to visit him. You want to come again?" Mordecai's dad asked.
"Nah, I'll visit after a few hours when he's awake. Plus the less I see him, the more I don't have to think about what happened," Rigby said, his tone growing fainter.
"Understandable. I'll see you another day," Mordecai's dad said.
"See you," Rigby said, hanging up.
"GET BACK TO WORK!" he could hear Benson yell from outside. Rigby sighed. He was going to hate growing up...
A/N: Abrupt ending, but I had to give you something. I had no computer access for the longest, and I hate taking the time to get off of my PS3 to type, which is far less inefficient from a computer I have to add. But because the last update time was pathetically far back, I updated. Don't lose interest. The show will still go on.