‟Do we have to wear the suits?"

‟Oh, boy! Do you EVER!" - The beige pizza weirdo told her, ‟It's ICE-E policy that all facilities be staffed by various ICE-E monstrosities. I had to do it, so you're doing it too!"

He continued, ‟I-I mean, wearing those outside is what got my coworkers hospitalized, and I'm only here because I was skipping work… B-But hey! You know what they say! One man's heat-stroke is another's…"

‟Stroke of good luck! HEH!… Heh heh… Hah."

They stared blankly at him.

‟…D-Different strokes for different folks! Am I right or am I right!?"

They stared blankly at him.

‟… A-AND! Because they're gone, I finally got the promotion I always deserved. They even gave me a name-tag! People can FINALLY stop calling me 'pizzapants'!"

On his work-shirt was a name-tag reading, Super Senior Executive Branch Manager Director of Frozen Pizza Branch Operations and Temperature Regulation Ma-, it ran out of space before finishing his name.

‟Cool." - She was trying her absolute best to not mess this up. She was horrible at listening to people and especially those kinds.

‟No talking in the suits! Anyway! I left the cleaning supplies outside!"

‟Aren't we delivering pizza?"

‟PIZZA!? Deliver? Oh, little junior. My sweet, sweet, summer part-timer… Unless it's a day starting with S, we're not recieving A SINGLE ORDER all day! So all we do is dance and clean! Ain't it GREAT!?"

‟… And the wolf guy?"

‟HE'S ALWAYS HERE! He sucks on hard-ice pizza slices! He doesn't count! Now get to it! And r-remember, there's no I in PEZZA!"

‟I'm pretty sure there is—"

He already left, playing snake on his phone.

‟Alright, Susie! It can't be that bad. Just think about the paycheck and what you'll do with it." - She heard Pink Kris urging her forward, plastered on the glass doors like a bad motivational poster.

‟(I already hate this.)" - She mumbled in her suit.

She stared at the other applicant through her damp, stuffy g suit. Unlike her, the other girl(?) had gotten an updated, 'Ms. ICE-E' costume, which was the rabbit suit with a bow-tie bolted on, then submerged in industrial pink paint. Because that's what girl meant. They got to doing the work, mowing the lawn and and dusting off the building. She saw her would-be coworker try and practice the classic invitational dance of all the ICE-E monstrositiesmascots, but she'd stopped after the firekids playing outside (only people that even walked by) stopped and looked at her like she was about to summon a literal pizza demon.

Using her time wisely, she drew a picture of that pizza-weirdo on an awning window, also a stick figure with an assault rifle shooting him in the eyes. The other girl (maybe, she didn't know) then drew a knife stickman stabbing him and stink lines coming out of his face, they both finished by giving him a mustache and bumping knuckles in approval. At least someone else was cool.

It wasn't just hot out, the sun was shooting down with hyper mega death lasers. She didn't know how the pink girl did it. She was a fire monster or a robot, Susie was convinced. As the sun rose on she'd take more breaks to not melt onto the pavement and turn to ICE-E ‟Susie-goo". It didn't work to cool her down, but at least she got to look at what her boss was doing. Sucking on frozen ketchup-packets and coloring in pictures of red sports' cars with the complementary baby-crayons. Why did the lamest guys like sports cars? All the cool monsters liked monster trucks and old beaters.

And in the back there was some purple guy who… what was he cooking? Did- Was he putting Pizza topping in body-spray bottles?! Did that guy work here?

Contrary to her outsider inside voice's cries for her to keep her chin up and do her best and hang on in there!, after having to clear gum off the pavement, she couldn't take the heat and went inside for a break. She dealt with heat better than most, but dancing in the sun wearing all that fabric was basically like, murder. She was gonna die.

‟Taking a break." - She announced while resting her ass on a stool. Mascot suit bending down like a corpse.

‟What, WHAT!?" - Of course that guy spoke up, hands raving like a maniac ‟No no! It's not even lunch break yet! The kids can't see ICE-E hunched over like that! They'll think we KILLED him once and for all! W-What if they start celebrating and word gets around!?"

Oh, she remembered who that guy was. He spoke to Kris once or twice. Didn't he hate his job? But wait, he was in a suit back then. Right, that would change things.

‟They already see ICE-E brooming and mowing the lawn."

‟Yeah, I've asked that TOO! But 'Nooooooo, that's different!' HOW IS IT DIFFERENT!? THEY NEVER EXPLAIN!"

She stared at him blankly.

‟Look, okay! I-I know it's hard," he said through uncomfortably clenched teeth, ‟B-But it's not like the rest of us like it! At ALL!"

He continued, ‟so, if you're the only one who can't handle it… then, ehem! We may have no other option…" - He was wearing a confusingly smug expression.

‟But to…"

‟…"

‟… Reject you." - Eyebrow raise.
‟Ok."
‟Oh, then be quick and get back to— O-OKAY!? Y-Y-You're FINE with that!?"

‟This job sucks ass." - She said, taking her ICE-E helmet off and finally feeling cold air on her face, ‟I'll find someplace else."

‟W-Wait a second!" - She, done with this, turned around to give him one last chance to not be completely obnoxious.

‟You sounded like a 50-year-old smoker so, I didn't notice you were… Ehem," - He clicked his mouth incredibly loudly, ‟A chick."

‟?"

‟That… changes things." - The monster then looked like his eyebrows were having a stroke. Trying to… court? Her?

The rabbit outside was peering in. Ice Wolf and Purple Guy were unperturbed.

‟Susie," - Pink Kris materialized behind her, ‟I feel what you're thinking, please don't punch him."

‟I think a job can be… arranged. If you know what I mean. O-Of course! I'd not take advantage of you, I-I'm just saying, RIGHT!? It's JUST an off—"

She punched him.

‟Great job! You ruined it!" - She heard screaming from the upside-down reflection of the park on her soda can, Pink Kris was agitated, ‟Now what are we going to do?!"

‟Well, screw him. I don't even want that job!"

‟That was the only ad in the newspaper! How are we going to get any money now?!"

‟I can find a job myself! I don't need to search through stupid ads!"

‟What are you going to do, just walk in and ask!?"

‟Yeah, and what if I do that, huh!?"

‟Like that'll work! You'll get just get rejected—"

‟Watch me, dumbass!" she said, smashing the can on her face and punting it into the lake. It skipped thrice and quickly sunk with a heavy glop. and ow!sound.

If she had to do it her way, then she would. She's going to ask absolutely every single person in town! One of them was bound to say yes.

‟Fufu~, sorry dearie. Purple does suit you, but you'd need, let's see… About 4 more arms to qualify to work for our bakery~."

‟I appreciate your enthusiasm sugar, comin' out here in this heat. But ain't nobody wanting hot chocolate and warm hospitality with this kind of swelterin' weather! So we won't be hiring right now!"

‟Sorry, but we can't accept any nurses who don't know the difference between our plasma IV drips and apple cider sippy bags. Should I pencil you in for unemployment? No? I'm sorry…"

‟What? Work in politics? No no, if you're not rich, or a politician's family member, you got no chance of getting a job in the government! Thaaaat's Politi— Hey! At least let me finish first!"

‟…sorry….. we've been told to stop hiring hooligan cops that don't know any laws…"
‟And Undyne?" - The ghost then disappeared.

She looked at Berdly in the librarby, ‟yeah… Nah. Not even trying with him there."

‟Ah, Susie. It's good to see you visit the church— Hm? Nuns'… paychecks? Well, I can't say I know, we who practice worship in this Church usually take a Vow of Poverty and— She-She already left… May the Angel be with her."

‟oh, papyrus already orgnanizes the shelves well enough. you know, alphabetically… open positions? I guess you could be an, uh, customer. i've got some 'open positions' with that."

‟W-Who's ringing my door at this hour?… I was rewatching season 4 of the Symptons— S-S-S-SUSIE!?… Really? You want to be a t-teacher!?… O-Ohmygod! That is SO CUTE! I think we're full, but! Stay right there— L-Let me get out of my PJ's and take a pict—" *SLAM*

A pristine chilly morning. Marbled clouds in the sky, grass glowing between the cracks of pavement. But that meant screw-all when the only reason she left the house was to get rejected all day again. Where else could she even try for work? The mall? She was too ugly. Ice rink? Not at this time of year. Maybe she could throw away her dignity, give Mrs. Dreemurr a knock and apply to become the school janitor. Just gotta catch her when Kris ain't home…

She sighed, resting on the sidewalk, head hung low. School Janitor. That's how low she's sunk already. How much fun she made of the monster when she was a student.

‟Maybe I should have studies more." - She said dryly, ‟I mean, I knew I'd regret it, but I didn't think it'd be this fast. Jeez." - She waited for an audience of chuckles that never came.

‟Man…"

Life wasn't coming up roses.

…Nah, that that's not her. Staring down at your feet was only for when you turned old and crooked. She got up with a painful groan, to go and get another soda; she'd need it with all the walking in the heat. She felt someone constantly forcing her back up whenever she'd felt down. Constant, loud, kicks to the butt. That… Voice? Person? Whatever it was, it had way more energy than her, basically never resting, and it felt like whenever she was feeling down it would brain-punch her back into gear. For a voice in her head, he was pretty helpful. Who knew being crazy had its perks?

He also, maybe?, had good eyes, and often would annoy her with a— ‟Susie! look!"

‟Hm? Oh, this thing." - She'd walked past the paneled orange architecture so many times it had long become a background prop she gave no thought to. She did see pinko looking around fused into their windows

‟Let's go and ask them! We can't miss a single shop, now."

‟Sure, let's…" - She looked up, ‟Wait, it's a flower shop? Hell no! I ain't going in!"

‟Why not?"

‟I'm NOT a flower-girl, pinko." - She said, a claw pointed at her bulbous face, ‟this smile makes children cry. The absolute last thing I want to be seen doing is selling lavenders to old ladies."

‟Hm…" - She heard as she started walking off, ‟You know, I think half of the job offers you've bailed before even asking."

‟Shut up." - Then she kept walking to the soda machine in the park—

‟Susie! Look!" - He rang out again.

There was a weathered pick-up truck doing push-ups off the dirt. It got her attention, so skulking around to its hood, she could spot a large monster completely failing to fit under it. It was a fat guy with his furry belly completely exposed, poking out in the sun like a moldsmal. Again, without even thinking about it, before she was allowed to, she nudged his feet. To which a very deep Oh! echoed from under the truck.

‟Just a second. You must be one of the—" - He said, making sure his Hawaiian shirt wasn't riding up even more.

Once the man actually stood up she realized it wasn't just some guy fixing a car, but Mr. Dreemurr, Kris's dad. Or as she knew him, an absolutely gigantic, blond and badly dressed middle aged monster she'd spot drinking tea by the park's entrance from time to time. Like, he had to be over 7 feet. She literally stood in his shadow.

‟Ah, you are one of Kris's friends, are you not? Is something the matter?" - The man asked, looking down at her and she suddenly felt a lot smaller.

‟U-Uh."

‟Alright Susie, now ask to help him!" - She saw the stranger in her reflection goad her on like a personal cheerleader.

‟You put him on me, then you leave me at the hard part!?" - She almost said, but stopped herself in lieu of looking insane to the giant goat-monster.

‟Uh-I… W-Want help with that?" - The words all came out like air were released out of a scratchy balloon.

‟Oh? You wish to help me? With changing the oil of my truck?"

The man loomed above her, all tensed up with her half-barred chalky-white teeth. Breathing heavily.

‟That would be very helpful!" - He said, polite smile on his jolly features. ‟Since I have gotten heavier, a lot of things have become harder to do. I had two monsters who would help me keep up, but lately it has gotten too hot for their armor… So, I am happy to take whatever help I can get!"

She heard the stranger in the mirror cheer as her chest heaved in relief. Good to know was one of the few people in Hometownwho weren't psychopaths on sight. Didn't mean he wouldn't crush her if he got mad.

‟Do be careful to not scratch anything now."

‟I-I know! I'm not that clumsy."

‟Yes, I suppose…"

She was in the cool underbelly of the beast, dirty jacket dragging on the dirt path. Luckily her schnoz didn't leave any dents and give her a death sentence. Judging from what she was seeing, the truck was old. It had no transmission pan like the one she knew so it was a manual. It had to have been taken care of pretty well since it didn't seem to be falling apart, even as she felt around through the dusty (but not rusty) pipes.

‟It's a pretty nice car, Mister Dreemurr. Though, uh, have any idea where the ca…" - Suddenly, it was like her body came into its own. Her eyes grew clearer through the dim and she saw, then fingered it, it was hidden over the front axle. Good one Pinko.

How can he even do that?

‟Found it!… Can you give me something to spill the oil onto? Unless you're cool with letting it just, uh… seep."

A magazine and flower pot were slid next to her. She uncapped it and let it slowly, slowly, pool out. Amber, nothing wrong with it. Compared to her dad's car this thing was race ready.

‟If I may say," - She heard his low voice, ‟I have been at repairmonsters who have not found it as quickly."

‟I know a few things." - She replied, all proud of herself.

She was a monster truck gal, and cars were pretty cool too. She didn't find it unusual, everyone liked cars. Well, girls as a whole weren't known to give them any love. But jury's still out on her being one, based on her tastes and way of dressing. That and… her dad's old beater, which she gave a few very small new dents to after she gained the keys from under his nose. She did a lot of preparation to make sure he didn't catch her. Dad was an actual dumbass but he was stupidly sharp whenever it came to her. So she'd learned at least how to fuel it and change the oil and check a few mirrors and, uh, drive it around. Don't tell Undyne.

‟Oh! Kris! Good morning!"

‟Hi Dad."

‟Hello, Mr. Dreemurr!"

The air stuck in her throat.

‟What are you two doing so early, already out and about?"

‟Going on a date, while it's still bearable outside."

‟We're on a picnic!"

‟I see! I was just doing some upkeep with the help of your fr—"

She kicked Mr. Dreemurr in the shin as hard as she could.

‟…With the help of some monsters."

‟Alright. You get that fixed."

Asgore was killing her the moment they leave. They'll find her remains under the truck.

‟Do not worry, they are quite good! She will be back up in no time."

‟Great to hear."

‟Oh, and do not forget Kris. Give your mother my regards."

‟I will, dad!"

‟Have a good day, Mr. Dreemurr!"

‟I will be sure to try!"

‟You know, maybe you should buy some flowers from your dad's store!" - Noelle said, looking around at the park.

‟I thought the only flower you liked was Mistletoe".

‟No? All girls like flowers. I don't know their names, but it's the gesture that counts!"

‟Noted." - He had more than enough things in his head, he'd try to lodge that somewhere.

‟You could have bought one now, too."

‟Don't flowers work only, like, as a before-date gift?… We'd just carry it around otherwise. Though, maybe it could have masked my smell."

Kris sniffed himself, he hadn't washed after ending his shift. He was so tired he just fell into bed from exhaustion. He wasn't feeling energetic walking to the park, the human was not a morning person, but when Noelle called for a date, he got up.

‟Oh come on! You don't smell bad!" - He appreciated the white lie.

He courted her down to the pond for their breakfast date. Most people would go out in the evening to avoid the heat, but not her, the clever deer. And to mask her shiny fur from the sun's rays, in her hands she spun an actual sun umbrella. Pink and white and frilly. Of course, her cardigan and skirt were also similarly pastel and softly-inviting looking. She used girly like an industrial hammer when it came to dates. And he was just… sweater and black pants. He'd check over his shoulder to check if he really was her boyfriend, that there wasn't a film crew ready to jump out and give up the jig. The most elaborate prank the world ever seen.

Sorry.

Anyway, she then set down a picnic cloth and sat them both down. Then she sat down, picking away from a rye-bread sandwich with her hooves besides her.

‟It really is a picnic like in the movies." - He said, looking at the deep-blue pond.

‟Yeah! Except, if it really was like in the movies, some psycho with a knife would be coming out of the woods to kill us."

‟… I always thought I'd be the psycho with a knife killing people."

‟Oh, definitely! And I'd be your clueless victim!" - Noelle always imagined herself the victim, ‟you'd at least let me live until the finale, right?"

‟I'd let you live until the sequel."

‟Aww! You're even thinking about the franchise!"

They were joking around, sure. They always did. But deep in him, it was still uncomfortable thinking about what he could do to her. So he wouldn't say he'd kill her even as a joke. Monsters could never kill someone without wanting to, it wasn't physically possible. But for him, it wasn't out of the question, he could do it easily. Easily enough for it to be a temporary loss of judgment. So with Noelle especially he was always just a bit on guard, always handling her with care. She was soft and warm and he'd make sure she'd stay protected. And just as he started looking too serious, a red nose nuzzled his and he opened his eyes to her stupid smiling face, trying to peer into his thoughts like a well-meaning kitten.

‟What were you thinking about, boyfriend?"

‟Stuff."

‟Well, I'm here if you need to talk about it. And if you don't…"

Without saying anything, she launched to peck a kiss from him. With him pulling back and her resting on his chest, he ended up falling with his shoulders on the grass with a petite doe on top of him. They bumped teeth and yelped in unison.

‟W-Well, Kris?" - She said, face over him. Framed by the clouds.

‟Well what?"

‟What were you thinking about?"

He felt her straddling his crotch while she stared him down. Staring at with her eyes completely open, like enormous green wells sparkling and tinkling in the sun, that he'd only glimpsed the depths of. And her golden puffy hair almost reaching down to curtain them. Again, his breath was taken away. Through all of his brain's escape mechanisms and alarm bells firing off simultaneously, he thought she had to be doing it on purpose, just to see how he'd react. Just pull away his curtains and show him the life he had.

His cheeks were red, and he might have felt some wetness that was more than the dew on the grass. He had a million things he could say, but those defense mechanisms kicked in before he could get any important thoughts out, and what came out was:

‟Your head looks like a bowling pin."

‟Pft. And yours look like a shaggy dog!"

He was about to kick himself as he laughed it off. Even when he wanted to there was a wall somewhere stopping him from being too sincere too long. Not like he hadn't the words to say what he felt inside. He'd, if anyone found this out he was killing himself, practiced complimenting her (and maybe in writing somewhere), but when it came to looking at her face to face and saying it from his mouth, it was like a knife had lodged itself into his throat. He was without inside help, so it was much harder.

‟And… Kris? Is there something in your pants—"

She had her hand trailing his right thigh. He realized and immediately panicked.

‟Oh, I'm just happy to see you!"

He said, stealing her attention off of it. That was his knife in its holster. It wasn't for her to know about. She might think him an actual psycho out to kill her if she found out about it. Actually, she probably wouldn't, but he still didn't want her to know. That knife was better if nobody knew about it. It would achieve the opposite effect of why he had it.

‟I-It's a nice day out, isn't it?" - He said, looking at the pristine sky, so clear a blue he could get lost in it.

‟It's been 'nice days' like these for two weeks by now. I'm hoping we get some rainbefore this heat causes even more damage. We can barely do anything like this…"

‟We could go somewhere else. Where it's not going to kill you."

‟Mhm!" - She nodded, her hair's faint nutty sugarplum had slowly enveloped his senses. And hunger had now stopped being the main base instinct his body was craving… Noelle was a nice and understanding girl and she was polite enough to not mention the thing poking her. She knew he knew she knew.

‟We'd have a lot more spots to go if we could drive by car!" - And just like that, he felt the warm smile he'd lost himself in, just stab him through the chest.

‟You want me to get a license?" - He said, strands of hair falling back over his face.

‟What? I didn't say that!… But, I guess? You suggested it."

‟Can't you get a license, too?"

‟I could, but… If you want to take me on dates, it can't be me driving you there, Krissy. I'm not your mom."

She heard him sigh, but didn't see his eyes roll. For he hid them. For not being his mom she played the role well enough.

‟… I'll work on it." - So that's what he'll be spending his free time on.

‟I didn't say you had to!" - She said, making sure to give him a reward soft and pleasant enough to make him forget all that was bubbling up.

He could taste her pepper-minty morning breath, her light weight on him was the cool summer breeze. Without any clouds, people, or even birds, their moment intertwined felt like they were one with time. Like the soft sensation pressing him into the grass was all that existed in the world. Santa's little reindeer brought him the best gift. He didn't deserve it.

Eventually it got a bit too much for our sweet cervid again, and it showed on her cheeks as she pulled back.

‟M-Man, Kris. Could you try cooling down a bit?!" - Despite her protests, she hadn't budged an inch off him yet, ‟I know you can handle it but I can't!"

‟Don't blame me, I wish I were cooler too. I'm sure if monsters got as hot as humans, they would have learned to sweat like us." - He said, pink-blue sweater was already feeling stuffy and damp

‟And besides, just being close to you makes me sweat" - He couldn't say it. Damn him.

‟Hey, it's not just humans! Some hippopotamus-monsters can sweat too!"

After Noelle said that they heard a slow sound, like an ancient submarine coming to life from the depths of the pond. Fat, milk-textured tentacles rose up, one after the other. And between all of them a gigantic onion, like splitting the pond into twinkling shards, rose out over the surface.

The onion-headed squid had a gigantically small face, and it was smiling exactly like :D, without a care in the world. Noelle just said the one word Kris was sure he'd never accidentally utter.

‟Hippopotamus! Now that's a name I haven't heard in a while! I even learned to spell it properly for you! It really feels like you, that name!" - It said, beaming in the sunlight! ‟I was even starting to forget about you, hippopotamus! You know, I'm actually set to move to the—"

It saw him being topped by a young blonde doe, both wide-eyed at him.

‟… Uh, Uh— I meant… I-I was just saying hi! A-And forget I said anything! It wasn't important, h-haha! W-Well… Enjoy yourselveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees— Blublublublublu~~~"

‟W-What the hell was that?"

‟Trust me, you don't want to know."

‟Susie?" - The pink Kris asked her, figure resting in the oil pooling on the magazine's cover.

‟(W-What?)" - She spoke quietly. No idea how to proceed.

‟So… You like Kris?"

‟(… No, I don't.)"

‟Really? I thought there was something." - He said that weird.

‟(M-May—… Don't you already know this!?)"

‟I felt it, vaguely." - She heard him say that weird. There was something weird about him ‟Well… It's your choice what to do with those emotions. But I think you should at least try confess to him."

‟(… What'd even be the point in that, you idiot?)"

‟To get it out of the way? See how you feel? I mean… You don't know what would happen if you ask."

She stood there for a while, staring at the oil drip down.

Boiling in the stupid mess of the web of emotions that her crush was. She tried to give it a think-over, yet again. Like she hadn't thought about it. But thinking about the right thing to say was a waste of time, especially when she was in some double-twisted oblique love triangle and there were pythagorean knock-on effects to everything she did. That stuff was above her. So she'd make her decision on her gut.

‟(It's scary and stupid.)" - Just stay out of it if you don't get it.

‟…Scary? You're scared?"

‟…"

‟You're already spending all day everyday asking people to give you a job, and you're only getting rejected. And you're scared of asking a boy out?"

‟S-Shut up!"

‟…"

‟(… Fine. I can try.)" - Maybe it'll make her feel better.

‟R-Really!?"

‟(You're right, I'm already spending the day asking things for things I'm never getting, what's one more?)"

‟Hey! M-Maybe he'll say yes! You never know."

‟(… Heh, maybe.)" - She wasn't getting her hopes up.

She showed her fanged smile for a second, then put the bottle cap back on and got ready to get all those teeth knocked out by the previous chief of police. She got up from under the car.

‟R-Right! That's that!… I—"

‟Yes, good work with the cap. I will throw that out, and I have already poured in the new oil." - Asgore said, looking unperturbed (if a bit awkward).

She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Obviously the guy seemed pretty laid-back, so he wouldn't do anything violent. He wasn't her dad. But at least something had to be coming down at her for what she did. That wasn't a soft nudge, she kicked him with her full reflexes.

She just stood there, head turned down ready to receive at least a stern talking to.

‟… Oh, of course! How could I forget." - He said, taking something out of his dress pants, she braced. When nothing came she opened her eyes to be met with his wallet open handing out a ten dollar bill to her. ‟This is for your good work. What do they say? Do not spend it all in one place?"

‟?" - She kicked him? Did he forget? Was he stupid?, ‟r-really?"

‟I said I have been at mechanics who have done it slower, so I thought it to be appropriate."

She didn't need to be told twice as she snatched it. The bill had that wallet smell that not-poor people money had. The girl just stared at it dumbfounded. That was more money than she'd stole from her dad in a month.

Wait, him actually having dough changed the meaning of Mr. Dreemurr's Hawaiian shirt. It was ironically lame. Because he wasn't a poor bastard. Just like that horrible looked him up and down through her thick bangs.

Someone like Mr. Dreemurr, who was the biggest and friendliest cop every adult still talked about. He'd obviously gained weight, but he was definitely running some, like, army-level operation. Or some bodyguard stuff. At the very least it was a moving company, he owned at least one pick-up truck. Which were all jobs suited for someone like her. Because this gal wasn't becoming a nurse no matter how much they paid. Physiologically she just wasn't made for service. But lifting heavy things and looking scary? Now that she'd tolerate! And having an actual boss who she can respect was a luxury in hometown, one that wasn't some annoying secretary type hag? Inexistent… Except…

‟Susie! Just ask him already! Stop stalling!"

‟Uh! U-Uhm." - Some fire choked in her belly and sent ash up her throat. She'd done this dozens of times already, but this time he could like… kill her for asking to join the CIA.

‟M-Mr. Dreemurr, you wouldn't be in need of some… uh, m-minimum-wage teenage employees?"

‟…"

‟… J-, Just kidding! Pretty good prank, right?"

‟Oh no." - He scratched his blonde hair for the first time she saw him, ‟I was simply in thought… Yes, I suppose some help would be nice. And I do have the money. Well, not much, but I could afford it for a while. But I cannot be sure about providing stable hours for you to work at. I close and open as is easy for me."

‟T-That's fine! I'm like, free 24/7."
Translation: ‟I literally have nothing going on in my life, please."

‟Hum…" - He closed his eyes, in deep reflection. Like a statue made of calcar. Mr. Dreemurr didn't rush a single thing he did.

‟… Well then, I suppose it would not hurt to try. With the heat, and all… It would be nice to have someone around."

‟…N-Nice."
Translation: ‟HELL YEAH! SUCK IT!"

‟Then it is settled! From now on, you are Flower King's first employee!"

‟C-Cool!" - Wait, what'd he say?

‟W-… Flower King?"

‟Hm? You did not know?" - He turned around, beefy arms pointing at the building they were in the shadow of, ‟I am the owner of this here flower shop! I sell and grow flowers… And from today on, you will be helping me!"

‟FLOWE—" - She cut her tongue, instantly turned her head at the pinksqueak's window and saw him disappear in real-time to evade her sight.

You…

You KNEW.