Before long, the house is in view as Rigby and Thomas continue down the path. Pops looks to be cleaning Carmenita, his car, with a rag and bucket out front by the garage, while the others are nowhere to be seen.

"I'll just be a sec, so hurry up and find Benson. My tummy is hungry for some sammich action." Says Rigby to Thomas.

"No problem, he should-" The goat is abruptly cut off when his phone rings, "Oop, gotta take this." Rigby rolls his eyes as his friend picks up the phone and starts talking with his mom. They've all joked about it with the goat before, but Rigby never truly realized how often she would call him. They've already talked four times today. He'd chat privately for a few minutes, then return to work like nothing had occurred. Rigby had tried to overhear the conversations at one point, but the few things he'd heard were boring, to say the least. When he asked about it, Thomas just said she's lonely being at home all by herself when he's at work. What a mama's boy.

"Five minutes, dude." Rigby loudly whispers, which is received with an 'okay' sign from Thomas as he walks off. Rigby then enters the house hurriedly, stomach rumbling and ready to go. Inside is quiet, with no loud banging or clanging, meaning Muscle Man and High Five Ghost are probably back at their trailer. At the same time, the other two park members and their boss seem to be gone, as indicated by the living room and office being empty, respectively. In his own room, he scrambles, throwing trash and clothes around until he locates his little baggy of money under his 'Eggcelent' hat. There isn't much but plenty for a pair of sandwiches and sodas… or half sandwiches and small sodas. He shouldn't have blown as much as he had the other night ordering delivery nachos.

Swiping the baggie, the raccoon quickly jogs down the stairs and out the door. Pops is gone now, his car left outside to air dry in the sun. Unfortunately, Thomas is nowhere to be found.

"Ugh… come on, Thomas. How can you still have so much left to talk about with your mom, of all people? You've had four calls in one day!" Begrudgingly taking a seat on the stairs, he waits for him to return. A minute becomes two, then five, then ten, and very quickly, Rigby starts pacing back and forth, waiting for him to show up,

"This is absolutely the last time I'm buying anyone food." Says Rigby as he kicks a clump of dry mud off the porch. However, at that moment, a familiar 'whirring' noise draws near, followed by the cart driving into view with Benson, who is clearly in a foul mood, behind the wheel.

"Man, I wonder what's got Benson's crank bent out of shape." His boss' eyes landed on him as if on cue, and his demeanor went from angry to furious.

"RIGBY!" Benson floors it, speeding as fast as he can towards the house before slamming on the breaks and skidding right in front of the steps, "Get down here NOW!"

"What? I didn't do anything!" He grows defensive as he walks down the stairs, but his denial doesn't deter Benson's rage.

"Oh, I know you didn't do anything. THAT'S THE PROBLEM! I just got back from the northern restrooms where I TOLD YOU to meet Thomas, and what did I find? That you did NOTHING!"

"What are you talking about?! We cleaned that hours ago!"

"I don't know how you convinced Thomas you could do it yourself, but CLEARLY you did because there is plastic ALL OVER the toilets! And not just that, but now the park has to pay for the dry cleaning for several VERY UPSET visitors!"

"No way, Benson, Thomas, and I-"

"Ooooh, no, you are not blaming Thomas for this one. This has YOU written ALL over it, especially after your little show this morning. THIS is why I can't trust you to do anything on your own because you will always slack off! You are LAZY, you are UNTRUSTWORTHY, and YOU. ARE. FIRED!"

"B-but Benson, I swear-"

"No! I have had ENOUGH of you! Pack up your things and GET OUT!"

"Woah! What's going on?" At the last moment, Thomas reappears from around the house.

"BENSON IS TRYING TO FIRE ME FOR SOMETHING I DIDN'T EVEN DO!"

"QUIET!" Benson, glowing red with rage, asks, "Thomas, did Rigby tell you he could do the toilets himself?"

"No? We've both been cleaning the restrooms all day together. We were just about to go on lunch break. Why?"

"Are you sure? You didn't leave him unsupervised at any point?"

"I'm telling you, I've-"

"I'M NOT ASKING YOU RIGBY!" Thomas frowns at their boss.

"The only time I wasn't with him was when he recycled the plastic after we finished each restroom. Afterward, he'd always promptly meet me at the next job. Why. Did something happen?" It takes a few moments and a lot of deep breathing, but the gumball machine returns to his usual color.

"Alright. I believe you. This means the person wrapping the toilets is still here and causing a mess. I need you two to continue clearing the toilets. I'll get Muscle Man and Fives to keep an eye on the ones you've cleared already, but we need to get this under control before it gets more out of hand."

"Sure, boss, we'll get right on it after lunch."

"I could really use you right now. If more guests get tricked, we could have a lawsuit thrown our way if this isn't handled quickly." Thomas, however, doesn't budge, and his frown deepens.

"With all due respect, sir, we are legally allowed an hour's lunch every day we work, along with two 15-minute breaks. Rigby and I have been working hard all morning, and it's now our designated lunch time. That said, we'll do our best to be back soon."

"Ooooooh! Get law-schooled, son!" Benson glares down at Rigby, then sighs.

"Alright, but please be quick about it."

"We could be faster if you lent us the cart."

"Fine." Benson exits the cart and starts heading towards the house, passing Rigby on the stairs, "I got paperwork to deal with anyway, and I'll need to throw together a plan if we're going to catch this plastic menace before we're all out of a job." He pauses at the porch, then turns around to look at Thomas directly, "You're driving, right?"

"Yeah. Rigby's buying me lunch today." That got a condescending laugh out of Benson as he headed to the door.

"Sure he is." This time, Rigby couldn't keep quiet.

"HEY! I offered to buy him lunch since he's been so nice to me today and not accusing me of stuff I didn't do, unlike some people."

"Just make sure it's real money, Thomas. I'd hate to see a good kid like you get scammed into buying that slacker food."

"I'm right here, you know! Stop ignoring me!" Without a backward glance nor acknowledgment of what Rigby said, their boss enters the house and closes the door. There's a thick, uncomfortable silence afterward that blankets the pair that's only broken after Rigby crawls into the passenger seat of the cart.

"…Let's go, I'm starved." Rigby's voice lacks any of the enthusiasm he had earlier. If he's honest, that all but made him lose his appetite, but he would take any excuse to leave the park and clear his head. Maybe it'd also help his chest to stop aching so severely if he stuffs something into his stomach anyway.

"Uh… yeah. Sure Rigby." Thomas takes the wheel and drives them out of the park. Nothing is said except for the occasional direction from Rigby as he lets his eyes unfocus and tries to relax in his seat. Rigby can't help but try his best to ignore the rapidly growing pain that seems to spread like malignant cancer through his heart. It seems to feed off of his awful mood.

After a while of riding with Thomas, his hope of more distance between himself and the park is proven not to be the magic bullet he'd hoped it would be. Worse yet, the longer the silence lasts, the more stuck Rigby is in his own head about what happened there, not just about today or what just happened painfully publicly in front of Thomas, but his entire time working there rears its ugly head.

The more he thinks about it, the more his dark thoughts take him further back. Calls home from school, friends flaking on him to be with Mordecai or his brother Don, his parents... the pit in his chest grows, spreading its tentacles wider. His thoughts then return to the park and the many problems they've all had over the years he's worked there. How many have been caused by himself? Last Thanksgiving is really making itself known. He almost ruined it for everyone because he wouldn't listen and play stupid football outside. Then there are so many other instances where he was selfish or a jerk, and it keeps piling up more and more…

"DUDE!" Rigby just about jumps out of the cart in fright at the abrupt shout.

"What?! Why are you yelling?!" Then the little raccoon notices that they are stopped in a packed parking lot, "Oh, we're here, sorry, man."

"You okay, Rigby?" Thomas asks.

"Yeah, just a bit of a space cadet today, I guess. Ready for some awesome food?" He tries to put as much enthusiasm as he can back into his voice, but the goat looks at him thoughtfully, which kills the artificial fun vibe.

"You sure?"

"Of course! I'm always cool, cool as ice in winter! Why?"

"Just asking 'cause it looks like you're about to crush the money into a diamond with that grip." Looking down at his hands, Rigby is surprised that he does indeed have a white-knuckle death grip on his baggie of cash. He lets go and flexes his aching fingers.

"I guess I am a bit worked up today."

"I would be too if Benson accused me of junk and tried to fire me." Rigby shrugs.

"Eh, that happens almost every week." It used to be more, and it's almost always warranted, "It's practically background noise at this point."

"Today's different, though."

"Pssssh, not really." It is. Not every day, your only real friend stabs you in the back in front of just about every other significant person in your life, and they just sit there agreeing with the betrayal. Thomas stares at him uncharacteristically sternly, to the point where Rigby shifts uncomfortably in his seat under the intensity.

"Look, dude, I just want to get some food and get back before Benson has another reason to try and make my life worse. So can we just…" At a loss for words, Rigby gestures toward the busy restaurant. Thomas nods, and the pair exit the cart and walk to the sandwich shop. Partway there, Thomas speaks again.

"Hey, Rigby."

"Yeah?"

"If you need to talk to someone, you can count on me. I won't snitch to anyone, not even Benson." Rigby can't help but snort. He's heard that line said plenty of times before from people, not just from Mordecai.

"Yeah, sure." Rigby's unbelieving reply gets him a firm hand landing on his thin shoulder, forcing him to pause. Their eyes lock, and for the first time, Rigby feels very small compared to the shockingly serious Thomas next to him. The looming goat then kneels to Rigby's level and talks in a hushed tone.

"I mean it, Rigby. We don't always get along, and we don't really hang out outside work.

"You mean literally almost never."

"But everyone has bad days, and it can help if you got someone to confide in about it. Some days I have it really bad too, you know. If it wasn't for my awesome mom giving me random calls every day to see how I'm doing and letting me vent whatever frustration I got out over the phone when I really needed it, I'd go totally insane from the craziness at work. You don't have to tell me what happened this morning but know that I got you if you need to talk about anything. Okay?"

"O-oh. Well, uh, thanks, Thomas. I'll think about it." Seeing that Rigby had taken what he said seriously, the goat's stern look broke and melted back into his usual easygoing smile.

"Good." He pats Rigby's shoulder before letting go and standing up again, "Now, let's get inside before the line gets too long. I saw a billboard for this place on the way here advertising a garlic bread sandwich with spaghetti and meatballs inside that I wanna try." As if those words were made of magic, Rigby becomes almost instantly full of life and excitement again.

"Dude! That sounds so awesome! I gotta have one too!" Rigby feels better than before, his inner turmoil forgotten in a moment of pasta and garlic butter-infused happiness. It is a great sandwich, even though they had to share a single spaghetti footlong and a medium soda. Despite that, Rigby could say this was the most fun he had ever experienced trying out a new place to eat. From the laughter and smiles, Thomas enjoyed himself immensely as well. Though Rigby quietly admits to himself, the company rather than the food makes the experience much sweeter.