![]() ![]() And.is st? Before I could tell Eugene to stop, he had already unlocked the doors. The fingers looked very sharp and skinny. As I got closer to the doors, the left hand of the stranger didn't look like a hand. He looked at the figure through the glass as he frantically bit off his fingernails. I walked over to the doors with my boss and Bob followed close behind. He ran out of his office with the ring of keys in his hand. "Eugene, where are those keys?" I asked nervously. He was pounding on the glass with his right hand, and his left hung strangely to his side. As this customer entered the restaurant, he-" Now, he uses the fork to slowly pick apart his victims. ![]() He bit off his phalanges long ago to show his enemies that he was fearless. On that night, the two employees had a customer come in. 'different' crowd of people tended to show up around this time. "On a damp, misty night like this, two people just like us were working the night shift. "Hey Bob, let me tell you a scary story." Bob excitedly turned to listen. ![]() I loved scaring him and making his life miserable, so I took this perfect opportunity to tell him a scary story. It's probably just the fog.īob is still standing uncomfortably close and I need to get him away from me. Eugene went to his office to get his keys as I watched the stranger scrape his nails along the glass doors. ![]() I turn around and Bob is standing directly next to me, and I hear his heartbeat and smell his breath. The figure walked slowly towards the front doors. Before you know it, we'll have dozens of customers at night!" Eugene said as he stepped out of his office. Why would anyone want some overly priced burger at 11 pm? The bus doors opened as Bob ran out of the kitchen, squealing excitedly. For all I care, the less customers the better.Īll I want right now is to play my clarin - wait a minute. One time, Bob tried adding food coloring to the burgers we sold, but the FDA said that adding 10 gallons of red dye was "not safe". However, it's not the worst idea we've had. It's a ridiculous idea, I needed my beauty sleep. My boss, Eugene, insisted that we have a 24/7 policy. He had the mental capacity of a walnut and his only accomplishment in life was opening a jar of pickles. Enough said, I hate my job.īut here I am, working the late shift. Rick was the kind of guy you'd never want to meet. The worst part about my job was his friend. He woke up every morning at 3:15 just to go to this lousy place. The sunspot was much too happy for comfort. His name was Bob, but everyone called him Yellow. It was an okay job, I was paid below minimum wage and my only coworker was an overly optimistic prick. It was very rusty, although the regulars called it crusty. I was employed at a local restaurant, if you'd even call it that. It was 10:30 at night and I was still at work. ![]()
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