Welcome to Gaia! ::

There's temp logs and a safety manuals scattered on the normally pristine counter, abruptly put aside when the two dealt with a small late night rush. It wasn't Morgan's first night, but it was about time he got to showing her the extremely boring and tedious chores for the nights she'd eventually be there by herself. Of course, it was all prefaced by his nightly, extremely emphatic lecture of, Don't mess with people in costumes. Give them the best customer service of your whole entire life no matter what.

In the background, the old TV played a likely even older show featuring horrifying puppets. Todd was pretty sure it was made by some cult. There were several slurpee enthusiasts crowded around the machines, debating which of the new flavors they should try first: Himalaya Himbo or Surf & Turf. Someone's mild suggestion of both had been received with severe censure. Todd, having heard at the drinks described in a range of tastes like my boyfriend to the aftertaste of a youtube apology video felt that the it was probably wiser to try only one per night, with the comfort and support of equally suffering friends.

Picking up the safety manual, he turned to Morgan and started where he'd left off, "The orange section lists what cleaners to-"

The door dinged, and in walked a a group of teenagers in costumes. In all likelihood, this was the aftermath of some sort of school play or weird dance thing. Todd looked over at Morgan, body tense as if some kind of open carry posse had just rolled up on them. And then he gave her the pleasantly empty customer service smile that periodically appeared for their weirder customers.

In the background, Cult Puppet Grandpa was explaining how even little accidents were god's punishment for willful disobedience.

"Destiny City has a lot of terrifying kids," Todd hissed through his smile and leaned back to double check the cot case. Full. Fresh. Functional. He wanted to pretend he didn't see her taking pics. They were probably not the sort of costumed teens that came with potential property damage and grievous bodily harm. And well, while it wasn't a good habit for her to have, it did mean she'd get the attention from it, not him.

But then Morgan brought it up, so he couldn't help but remind her, "Some day you're going to piss off the wrong customer with that, and I absolutely do not do the chivalry stuff." If she takes pics of someone like Fire Guy, then that's just Darwin in Action as far as Todd's concerned.

There's a brief moment when things in the store seem a bit muted, and the whole place can clearly heard the following puppet dialogue:

"She's bleeding and her cut is all covered with dirt."

"And I don't even have a tissue to wipe it with! I'll just have to lick it clean and spit out the dirt."

Todd briefly made a face, breaking his customer service mask for a moment of pure disgust before turning to ring up the slurpee guys who'd finally made their choice of suffering for the night.

He didn't make any sort of face when one explained they'd spilled some on the floor. He didn't make any sort of expression at all, actually, and just turned to Morgan with intense Not it energy.

"When I first started," Todd began, leaning low on his elbows, "we had this bubblegum slurpee mix. And for the longest time I thought the machine was haunted. It had like, really bad vibes. A couple people even passed out. And then one day it started shaking. Something straight out of Poltergeist. So I ran outside of the building and took a six hour smoke break with the doors locked. I came back in once it started getting light again and it had stopped."

Leaning over the counter to inspect Morgan's work and her shoes, he went on, "This was back when the cameras worked more than three days a month, so I decided to check and see if anything had happened while I was outside." He paused, a vaguely sick look on his face while in the background, a robot with some uh, extra amenities cruised around to a funky beat.

"It was a radioactive pink kinda rat thing? It had been living inside the machine. Thought I'd get fired for calling a friend in to just, take the whole machine out and deposit it in the dump that morning. Instead I got bumped to full time."

He gave Morgan a sage nod, "So like, I'm not gonna say science fair slurpees when left alone will always turn sentient and try to melt off your flesh? But I will say...it might."

Watching Morgan take the warning seriously, Todd nodded to himself in satisfaction. He felt there might be a new challenger for his Most Weeks Without Emergency Medical Attention record. The thought of some sort of slurpee man rising from the depths like those old chocolate AXE commercials gave him pause and a certainty that a slushee himbo was going to feature in some kind of dream or another in the coming days. He hoped it would be a nightmare, to be honest. No need for any awkward awakenings.

"I don't think they trust most people to read, so most of the labels are color coded. Things in the same hue family are relatively safe near each other, hues that have a big black x over them are no bueno. For details, the section in the big binder is color coded to match for easy reference."

He paused and then added, "One a guy took the hot case cleaner off the counter and started drinking it on his way out the door? Stuff like that, just...don't question it." The implications of that ranged from sad to alarming to conspiracy subreddit fodder. At the end of the day, Todd liked to file the whole spectrum of possibilities under Not My Business. "They were fine a week later," he added. "Bought some charcoal but didn't start eating it?" Which was memorable because Todd had a feeling they were gonna snack on it later. He's all too familiar with people's Snack Gaze.