Employee of the Day

"Please Miss! Just try to tell us what happened."

"I can't. I...I..." she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

"Try! We have to know what happened in there!"

"I...he...! He said he was going to take my eyes." she screeched, pressing her fingers against her closed lids, reassuring herself they were still there.

"He found out that I'm an artist a-and...he thought it would be funny to take my eyes from me. He said he didn't want to kill me but...he wanted the Batman to come and stop him personally or he was going to-to do it."

The banner at the bottom of the screen identified the woman as "Pearl Morrison" an employee of the asylum. Above her left eye, there was a small nick in the flesh, a smear of red standing out against her skin. As she wiped away her tears, she smeared the red across her brow.

She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out.

April twisted around to see her boss holding the remote control.

"Don't you have a register to check your phone at?" the older woman sneered.

April scowled back, "I'm on my fifteen, and you know that I'm not even the worst about that! Your precious pet CJ is the one...!"

Cathy had already lost interest in her subordinate's rebuttal. She tossed the remote back on the the folding table and left the break room without a backward glance, pushing through the noisily squeaky door.

April huffed, another opportunity to chase after her boss and scream, "I'M DONE! I DON'T NEED THIS CRAP! I CAN GET A DEADEND JOB LIKE THIS ANYWHERE!" came, and went. She still couldn't do it. She didn't have the courage. Especially not this close to the end of the month. There were bills to pay and the ever looming threat of eviction. In this economy, who wasn't a couple of months behind on rent?

"Grandma was right." she muttered to herself, "Stripping would be less degrading." She pulled off her glasses and puffed hot air on the lens before wiping them off with the bottom of her bright yellow polyester polo. Working at a small hardware store should have been quaint. Instead it was all the joys of minimal regulation of pay and benefits from a mom and pop store, paired with the cut throat impersonal management of a big box business.

Even with all that, April couldn't help but thinking it could be worse. She stared up at the screen a few moments longer as the muted hysterical woman, still dressed in her stained scrubs frantically explained her story.

April glanced at her phone, her fifteen minutes were up. She took a step toward the door then stopped. She looked back down at her phone and deliberately placed it in plain view on the table. She wasn't going to take any more accusations of laziness that day.

The girl pushed open the break room door which gave its customary loud squawk. April always suspected they left it unoiled so they would know if anyone was trying to take extra breaks. She trudged through the aisles of neatly lined up shovels, hammers, saws, and fertilizers. Every shelf was covered in a smattering of SALE, HUGE SAVINGS, EVERYDAY LOW PRICES signs. The random blotches of florescent orange, green and yellows made April sick. After two years there, it was hard to tell if it was the inherent ugliness of it all or if it was some sort of trigger.

April walked up to trusty old register two where CJ was busy scrolling on his phone.

"Hey, I'm back. HEY!" she said again, louder. He still didn't look up.

"You've got floor stuff to do." he murmured.

"Pfft. No. Check my sad lil pay-stub, it says cashier. You're the floor guy."

"CAAATHY!" he bellowed, pocketing his phone. April grimaced.

"April, what are you doing over here?" Cathy asked, rounding the corner, "Didn't CJ tell you? I need you to go sort the nails. There are framing nails stuck in the the roofing nails and some screws got dumped in with the masonry at some point."

"Yeah, its a mystery how that happened." April said flatly, giving a side glance to CJ, who just so happened to be the stock boy. She decided she'd had enough bickering for one shift and acquiesced without another word. As she made her way to the far wall of the store, she felt a presence behind her. April stiffened when she felt hands landing on the hem of her pants.

"Just helping you tuck that in a little better," Cathy said, in a surprisingly gentle tone, "Your muffin top's getting out." April bristled, turning beet red. Cathy gave her shirt one more good tug, securing it in place. She disappeared after her impromptu task was completed.

The real kicker, April realized, was that was Cathy's attempt to be kind. The woman was incapable of being nice to her employee even when she was making a direct effort.

"No hands on the merchandise!- yeah that's what stripper-April would say." she grumbled. Her hands busied with sorting as she pondered what a good stripper name would be. "You can call me Saccharine!" she said in a unconvincing southern drawl, "'Cause I'm sweet like sugar and I just might give ya cancer!"

She heard the bell ding from the front door opening.

"Or maybe, Ms Chastity Paradox!"

There was murmur of a large crowd coming through, indiscernible chatter and hushed voices. April kept sorting and thinking.

"Call me Sriracha, ooh lala. Hipsters think I'm hot even though pretty bland!"

BLAM!

The unmistakable boom of a gunshot shattered the quiet of the store. April shrieked and dropped to her knees, knocking over a bin of nails. They scattered all around her. She started crawling immediately. She felt the heads of the nails biting into her palms and knees but she didn't care. Her ears were ringing and she didn't know if they could hear the commotion she made over that world shattering blast but she didn't want to be there if the gunman rounded to corner. Her chest felt like it had shrunk in half and every breath was an effort. She scuttled around the back corner of the store and compressed herself as small as she could at the end of the aisle. Her breath was still coming out in shallow but loud breaths. She clamped her hand over mouth and tried to control her breathing. She had to keep her head. She had to remain calm.

She had to listen.

There was the horrible sound of a sobbing, moaning woman. Shrill little cries every few seconds that filled the entire store. There was still chatter, but not as much. A single voice pierced through.

"...did ja just HAVE ta panic like that, kid?" a high nasally voice chided.

That womanly scream again.

"All I wanted was a little bit of customer serrrrvice." the voice rumbled, "Is that really so much to ask?"

April realized the screaming woman was CJ. If she had imagined finding out that his scream sounded just like a lady, she would have pictured herself gloating and laughing. There was no laughter here. She felt sick and was still cursing her seized up lungs.

But when that voice filled the space, she couldn't help but feel like she recognized it. She didn't want to do what she did. April liked to think of herself as a fairly intelligent register grunt but she just had to know. She lifted her hands from her mouth and pushed her glasses up her nose. Slowly, she twisted and peaked around the edge of the aisle.

She whipped her head back and hugged her knees.

"I'm gonna die." she breathed.

She had peered down the lane for only a fraction of a second but it was enough. She saw everything she needed to assess the situation. There were no less than half a dozen heavily armed men, standing around the front of the store. She had registered one of them fiddling with the door. Probably locking them in. Did he bother to put up the Closed sign? The men were all dressed fairly plainly with two exceptions. One, they all wore rubber clown masks above their street clothes. And two, the man holding CJ up by his scruff was wearing a purple suit, had green hair and a painted face.

She hadn't looked long enough or scrutinized hard enough but she had the distinct impression there were large scars under all that paint.

"Breathe, you idiot, while you can!" she barked internally. With that, April took a long shaky breath and turned inward for the moment. She tuned out whatever was happening around her and focused on a long deep inhale and a slow measured exhale.

What were her options?

She could call for help...if she hadn't purposefully left her cell phone out of reach. She looked at the shovels in front of her. She could try to fight her way out with brute force. April was bit of a stout girl, but it was more cushion than muscle. Plus, she didn't like her odds against six thugs and a painted crime boss, even if they weren't armed.

So, what else could she do?

There was an back exit. She just had to get across the expanse of the back wall of the store and get through that goddamned noisy break room door. She looked back up at the shovels. Well maybe the plan could be a little column A and a little column B. Neither were ideal but it was all she had. April had to move soon before the thugs decided to do a sweep of the store and found her.

But she had to do something first.

She crossed her arms in front of her, tucking them in close and untucked the front of her shirt. She pulled it over her stomach, and shakily got it over her head, jostling her glasses. She let the shirt fall behind her. She was left in her tightly belted khakis and a green camisole.

Go time.

She inched forward and stopped short of the shovels. There were a row of trowels to their right. It was the knife sized equivalent of the a shovel. She grabbed one and fisted it in her palm and began crawling as quietly as she could. She kept her breathing measured but it was time again to listen closely.

"Kid! Kid! Are ya seriously going to die from that little flesh wound? Just like kids, today, laying down on the job." There was a pause, "KID! Hey! Were you really the only ah person who worked in this whole store? Boys, why don't you have a look around. See if there's some clerks lazing about, hiding under something, or uh, some such."

April's throat squeezed itself shut as she started crawling faster.

"Boss! There's some chick back there!" she heard a man shout. April wondered if they would give her space when they caught her because she was about to throw up from terror.

But then she heard Cathy.

"No! Stay away from me!" there was a commotion. April pressed herself behind a stack of deer feed and squeezed her eyes shut, gripping her trowel with all her might.

"Get away!" Cathy screamed and April heard heavy feet pounding on the tile as several of the men chased after the middle aged woman. April heard the familiar squawk of the break room door and for a moment felt hysterically happy for Cathy and utterly abandoned. If she got out April would be alone with these psychos who just killed CJ.

But Cathy didn't make it out. There was sounds of a struggle, then the squawk of the unoiled door before a loud CRACK and again. SQUAWK CRACK.

Cathy's miserable screams skewered April's heart. She wanted to take back every petty revenge fantasy she'd ever had about the woman. She wanted to tell CJ that it didn't matter that he was incompetent because life was short.

"So uh, what's the chances you'll actually be helpful?" a voice crooned over April. Her eyes popped open and she slowly trailed her gaze from the shiny shoes, up the purple pants, green vest, checkered blue...no purple shirt and up to the unpainted throat. She couldn't bring herself to look directly into his face.

"Ah, ah." the voice said, "my eyes are up here, young lady." then he smacked lips, wetly. She didn't lift her eyes further, just dropped head, shaking her hair over her face.

"WHY is everyone in this store so unhelpful?" Despite her best efforts, April saw him crouching down in front of her.

"You're, uh, gonna want to give me thaT." he said, spittle from the T landing on her forehead. His purple glove appeared in front of her face and he gently pulled the pointed trowel from her grasp. She let it go without a fight.

The clowns came over, finally.

"All out of shop clerks, huh." one asked.

"Oh no, no." The Joker said with a dismissive wave of his hand. We've got one left here, see." he gestured to April, "She's going to help us. And I have no doubt it'll be service with a smiiile!"

The Joker stood and bid April follow suit with a flick of his hand in her direction.

"Come on, stand up."

She didn't see any choice in the matter and slowly staggered to her feet. She still couldn't look up. But she found she could speak.

"How do you know I work here?" she asked The Joker's shoes.

He stepped in close to her then, closer than even most of her friends were allowed. Her eyes bulged wide as he placed a hand on her hip and wrapped his other arm around her. She couldn't help it. Her eyes flickered up to his face. And she was inches away from those thick, bulging misshapen scars. He smiled then, revealing his small absolutely yellowed teeth and for a terrifying moment she wondered if he was about to...

He gripped her hip hard as he yanked the yellow polo out of the back of her pants and stepped back. He causally shook out the shirt she had been wearing as a tail without realizing it. She blushed furiously for so many reasons.

"Miss, if you'd like to put this back on. I have some shopping I require assistance with."

"No."

"Mm? Did I hear you right?" in an instant he flicked a knife out.

"NO! Nonono! Not no! No, just please don't make me put that back on." she said frantically, trying to get the words out before he attacked.

"Not your color? Or do you think you'll find my good side by flashin' some ah, skin?" he asked, amused.

"Oh god, no! Its just..." she didn't know if telling him the truth would help or damn her. But it was too late, she didn't have any thoughts that weren't the truth so she just had to say it, "Please. I just don't want to die in uniform. The news is already going to say "retail cashier, April Kane, age twenty blah blah found dead" but I'm, you know, a person. I'm not an employee bot. I'm more than this shitty job but its whats going to define me when they remember me."

"Oh April, sweetie." he said with a smile, "they ain't gonna remember you." He tossed the shirt back into her hands. She caught it with a clumsy flail. He lifted the knife back up and nodded to the shirt.

"Come on. Time to get in character. I'm the customer, you'll be the employee. Its what you do every day but a little different. Fun, right! Now, go on."

April had done what she could. She didn't want to die in a pathetic heap, so she swallowed the sob in her throat and tugged on the polo.

Considering this was the last transaction this store would probably ever do, she might as well do it right. Like he said, get into character. She swallowed again, and evened out her breathing as she tucked her shirt in.

Deep breath.

"Ah! H-hello sir!" she said in the most chipper voice she could muster. She glanced over at the small crowd of thugs, "Gentlemen! Welcome to our little store, is there anything you need help finding today?"

The Joker's eyes lit up.

"Why yes, Miss! I've got a doozy of a shopping list and I'm ah, a little worried you won't have everything I'm looking for in stock."

"Well," she said with a manic smile, "I can't guarantee we have it all, but I'll help you find what we've got!"

"Splendid! Boys, grab a cart."

It was true that they didn't have even half of the stuff on his list. She didn't know why he expected a hardware store to have mercury and nitric acid on hand. He asked if they had any morning glory seeds and when she just furrowed her brow in confusion, he laughed and said that was for an entirely different project. He was just feeling hopeful.

"Do you think the box nails or the roofing nails would be more devastating as shrapnel?" he asked, in a light friendly tone.

"Ah, I don't get that question as often as you'd think. But there's pros and cons to both. Roofing nails are longer so they have that wow factor initially but box nails are sturdier and heavier so they'll get distance and that'll really make an impression on your...guests or victims or what have you."

He nodded thoughtfully stroking his jaw.

"Ah, heck! Its too hard to decide. I'll take 'em both."

"And what else are we looking for today?" she chirped.

"Ah, well that's it. End of the list."

"Oh." and the light atmosphere fell.

April realized she had just gone through some intense disassociation, but the game was over now. She'd outlived her usefulness.

He smacked his lips, filling the quiet.

"Alright boys, go load up the truck. And I don't want to hear even one of you pipe up asking about lunch. Eddie lost Dairy Queen privileges for everyone. He knows what he did. Now go, scoot."

There was some light muttering. On one hand that sounded like the pettiest thing she'd ever heard in her life. On the other, she suspected that any sort of lost privilege might result in Eddie getting pummeled by his fellow clowns. She couldn't help but wonder how many people died as perplexed as she was feeling.

The smacking of Joker's lips brought her back to the present.

"You were great help, kiddo." He licked and his lips and smooshed them into a line as he considered her. He reached into his vest and pulled out a small but very sharp looking knife.

"Okay, take off the shirt."

"But I was helpful. I-I did everything I could today."

"I know."

This was as much kindness as he was capable of and she knew she should be grateful. But in the end, staring at that blade, she knew she wanted to live. She couldn't just stand still and let him kill her. He seemed to see the wheels turning in her head and reached out to grab her, April ducked out of his reach and whipped around. She darted away as fast as she could. He gave a grunt of displeasure and followed at her heels. She darted around a corner and bee lined for the entrance. Hopefully, his clowns would be too busy loading up the stolen goods to notice her. She grabbed a jar of nuts and bolts chucked them at his face without breaking stride. The Joker laughed as he threw up his hand to block the small bits of metal.

"That's not even nonlethal, kid. That's just noneffective." She was almost to the exit when he snatched her collar, yanking her back.

She made a strangled yelp and felt her feet fly out from under her. He pinned her to the ground painfully, with a knee on her shoulder.

She moaned and her head lolled to the side. CJ's body was still slumped over her register. His blood was thick and dark and covering the counters she had cleaned so many times.

"Now that we're here. Could you resist that oh so intense urge to struggle? It'll only make this harder."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she could punch him in the balls, his groin was right there, absolutely within punching range but if she didn't manage to get away after that...she couldn't imagine how bad he would make her death. She'd heard stories.

Then the quiet but unmistakable sound of fabric ripping caught her attention. She peaked and saw him deliberately slipping the knife up a tear he was working on, smoothly slicing the polyester. Her eyes darted to his and they looked focused on the task at hand. He cut cleanly up to her throat. He set the knife down on the floor and pulled the fabric open.

"There we go. Not an employee, just a nice lady. But actually..." he reached into his shirt "before you're relieved of duty," and pulled out a small bundle of cash. She could see Benjamin Franklin smiling coolly from the top of the stack. He placed the bundle in her hands as she stared unblinking up at him.

"You can call that a tip or maybe severance pay since I'm guessing this gig is over for you." She gripped the bundle tightly. Rent was now a nonissue.

"Now, we wouldn't want the cops to think I'm playing favorites, so I suggest you stash that before they show up. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Good girl."

He plunged the blade into her shoulder.

April jerked up letting out a scorching scream.

The Joker laughed heartily, whooping and giggling.

"Like I said, I can't be seen playing favorites. And I wouldn't pull that out if I were you, slows the bleeding."

She screamed and twisted on the ground, gripping the money with white knuckled shaking hands.

"This store has a decent selection, most of the help was deadweight but there was one girl who made the trip worth it. Overall, I would recommend this store to my friends looking for binding for hostages and simple around the house explosives. Three stars!" He declared satisfied.

"Good night, April Kane, age twenty something something, unemployed girl."

And with that the Joker slipped out door. April moaned on the floor one hand gripping the knife in her shoulder. She realized bitterly that he had pinned the shirt to her.

Funny. Real funny.

END