|  Author | Topic: The Messes Women Leave (Read 251 times) |
Hannibal Voorhees (Kendall)
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Karma: 0 |  | The Messes Women Leave
« Thread Started on Mar 16, 2007, 4:25pm » | ![[Quote]](http://s4.images.proboards.com/buttons/quote.gif) |
Han walked slowly along the makeup aisle, humming quietly to himself. He hated this aisle. It reminded him of his past, and he couldn't really tolerate that for too long. Unfortunately, it was also one of the aisles that needed his attention most. He shook his head, one eye twitching slightly as he observed a shelf where a customer had painted stripes of nail polish to see what color the polish inside the bottle might be. He lifted his cleaning rag, and began rubbing away at the little spot. "Careless, careless." he muttered, making a small 'tut-tut' noise under his breath.
He began to hum again, softly warbling out the notes of Chopin's Nocturne in Eb major. He loved to play the piano; it was one of his favorite hobbies. He decided he would have to see about a piano being put in the staff lounge. Finishing the nail polish spot, he moved on to the next shelf, where a customer had smeared a lipstick tube across the price stickers. He rubbed away that stain easily enough and moved on. There was no one in the aisle, and he liked it that way. If anyone came along, he might have to talk to them, and he certainly didn't want that.
"Come along, Claire." he murmured, lovingly stroking the handle of the mop which sat in its bucket at his side. He pulled the little mop cart along after him, continuing his daily rounds with little other thought or care...
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Tater»{Jeff}
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Karma: 2 | | Re: The Messes Women Leave
« Reply #1 on Mar 16, 2007, 5:20pm » | |
He'd been stalking out a victim all day. It seemed like an endless wait. No, not because of a lack of people at Wal*Mart, but the lack of people he would actually have fun messing with. many of them looked like, if he did what he was planning, they would kick his ass, or slap him, or call security. He'd been wandering around, trying to find somethnig to do. It was his rare day-off, and he came straight to Wal*Mart. it was usually a place where he could have some fun. Wandering past Aisle 2, he saw an old man, alone. And the man was mumbling to his mop, or to himself or..something. Either way, he would be fun. Psychoctic people were always fun to mess with. And old people. Old, psychotic people? Pure gold. He reached into the pocket of his faded blue jeans and pulled out a video camera, which he then turned and handed to his friend, who also came with him. The friend turned it on, and Jeff looked into the lens. "Hello, I'm Jeff, and I'm about to have some Wal*Mart fun."
One of the reasons he came to Wal*Mart was to make a video. Jackass-style, specifically, and one that he would put on You-Tube. No, he wasn't very mature. But then again, he always spent entire days designing, playing, and beating video games. How mature could somebody be if that's what they did for a living?
He turned and headed for the old man, stood in front of him, grinning evilly. Then he pulled of his shirt, all the while humming 'stripper' music, and doing a 'seductive' dance. he chucked his shirt aside, and started jumping around in front of the old man.
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Cheryl Key ღ
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Karma: 0 | | Re: The Messes Women Leave
« Reply #2 on Apr 6, 2007, 5:01pm » | |
It was Cheryl's first day. The alarm went off at seven, however, Cheryl had been awake since two this morning. She had been ready since four and had spent her morning pacing and playing with her car keys. She had wondered why she hadn't gotten the early shift...work was justtoo good sounding at the moment. Her shirt was a slightly baggy heather tee. She wore loose fitting jeans and regular tennies. She had played around with how she would wear her hair and makeup, trying to cut back with the blush and eyeliner, trying to style her hair so that it looked nice and work-oriented, however, not sexy or distracting. She left it down.
Come eleven, she was headed towards the building. Her shift began at eleven thirty and she arrived at eleven ten. She was to stock the shelves. She brought the cart to all the aisles she would be stocking and she would soon be brought to the make-up aisle. It was a place she never really visited. Her quest to be less than average looking had kept her away from this place for most of her life. However, she wouldn't be buying anything from the aisle. Instead, she would be putting things here.
Quietly, she wheeled her cart in the direction of the aisle, proudly wearing her blue vest with her name 'Cheryl' in bold. Soon she would be wearing a vest that no longer bore her status as a trainee...it would be manager, or something higher up. She hoped, anyway.
Having arrived, she paused at the end of the aisle to stock the lipstick shelves. Plumbs, apples, and strawberry colors, along with sunset and posh all went through her hands. She never really understood why women tried to look hot. What was the point? To lure men in their direction? Why would anyone do that? She had done that once...for a day...and in the end? A man followed her home and...
She shouldn't think about it.
She wheeled her cart further down the aisle and when she did, she looked forward, seeing an older man with a mop - the janitor, obviously - and another, younger, man dancing and chucking his clothing items to the side. Her eyes widened at this atrocity.
Excuse me! I believe going shirtless is against store policy.
Shehad already begun to read the rules and policies and codes of conducts. She had a few memorized. Feeling ashamed for the man, she wondered how old he was...eighteen? Her hands balled into fists and she wondered how she would need to go about this.
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Cheryl Key
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