The Beginning of the End

You thought it was just so simple. The letter E. Well, if that was your answer, you’d be wrong because everyone is wrong here at the North Country Morgue.

Is there any happiness? No.

Is there any joy? No.

Is there any hope? No.

There is only one thing that everyone who works here can look forward to… Escape.

What started it all off? When a man named Karl came into the picture, tearing down all dreams with his insulting nature that bubbles out of him like a shaken up can of Sprite.

“You’re a slow bundle of sensitivity and misery, Haslia,” he would say from time to time, just to see her wince in pain and instantly die inside, her veins bulging and selling like a balloon being inflated past its point of elasticity to where it could hold in no more. “I know we are talking about Lyle, but it’s all about you and you know it. No offense.”

But of course, he did always have to make sure his bases were covered with that little two-word phrase.

“No offense.”

Just because you use that phrase does NOT give you leeway to say whatever the heck you want.

“No offense, but you’re stupid.”

I’m smarter and wiser than you will ever be, so back off with your crap, bro, especially as the MANager. If you don’t tone it down a little, like take it from an F Sharp to an F, I’m writing you up.

“Karl, why is it okay that some people are allowed to just stand around playing on their phones, but then the ones who actually work have their hours cut? Explain yourself or get wrecked.”

“Job security. They know that if I take their hours away, they won’t be able to message their buddies how they slack off at work.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

Man, nothing ever gets done around this place. Just look at it. The walls are slimy. The wall trimming is falling off the wall because of stupid carts that customers shove in there haphazardly like buffoons standing in front of targets in a shooting gallery. They don’t have any sense of their own to operate like normal human beings because they think they are so high and mighty… except they’re pretty weak and lowly… being dead and all.

Sign on the bathroom door, apologizing for the inconvenience.

“Bathroom is out of order? Is it really?”

“No, we just put it up to keep you out. So please, go in there and be my guest. Try out the new lack of features, known as the toilet not flushing because there’s not enough of a water supply.”

It’s like a water buffalo is hogging all the water, drinking it so it can spit it out in tsunamis upon us.

But anyway, the manager here and the people who shop here are so similar: they are full of the most ridiculous ideas that not even the most intelligent person could fathom.

You thought this was something? This is just the beginning. There’s more where that came from… the North Country Morgue.