1.

He worked the closing shift. He hated it. it wasn't because of the lateness of the hours. He liked the night. He found it comforting. Like something you could hide your identity in. The darkness concealed features you would otherwise notice. Like acne. In the dark, you don't notice it.

It wasn't because of the lack of customers. Lack of customers was actually the upside. He hated the customers. Hated them all. Except for his "2000th customer". She was the only one he liked seeing. Most of the people you just wanted to shout at, but couldn't, because you would get in big trouble if you did.

It wasn't because of the management. At 10 o clock, all the higher ups retired upstairs to close the office, and he had basically free run of the place until they were done.

He hated it because there was never anything to do. Sure, he could bring in his computer, and usually did. He would work on one of his stories, or play a game if none of the strict higher ups were around, but after ten o clock, business seriously drops off, and theres usually only about ten people the rest of the night.

Everyonce in a while, he would call his girlfriend, but that would always be the time that the customers chose to come to the store in droves. How he hated the customers.

His name was Collins, and he hated his job.

2.

Today was just peachy keen.

He had overslept this morning, and having done so, he had a headache. One which would only affect him when he didn't think about it. As soon as he stood up out of bed at 12:07 PM, the headache left, but he knew it would be back. He had no doubt. He reached over, intending to turn on the radio, and saw that the LED display had gone out. Briefly, he wondered why, and his thoughts were answered by a boom of thunder, outside his window.

The power was out. How thrilled he was by that. No televsion, which meant he couldn't watch any of his Mystery Science Theater 3000 videos; No radio, so he couldn't listen to some tunes; No computer, no internet, no cuddling with his girlfriend. He breathed a sigh, and hoped the day would get better.

He read a little (Rose Madder, by Stephen King) and when his headache snuck back up on him, decided to go out for a while. He walked through the rain to his car, and got in. Then he realized that the day before, the sky had looked so bright and cheery, that he didn't think about rolling up his window.

The passenger seat was drenched. The drivers side was only partly dry. He felt like a moron. A total moron. He put his jacket down on the seat, and sat on it. He started up his car, and noticed that the middle Marathon Sticker on his car was coming off. He made a mental note to himself to reinforcce it with Invizo-tape, then realized he would probably never get around to it, even if he did remember.

The car smelled terrible. He would have rolled the windows down, but the rain was still falling.

"LOVE IS LIKE A SHADOW ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE!" The CD player was playing at what had to be an unholy level, and his headache returned with a vengeance. He closed his eyes for a minute after turning it down to a barely audible level and regained his composure. Bonnie Tyler was belting out that her heart was being totally eclipsed.

Collins felt that way about his head.

He left his neighborhod with no vague idea where he was going. He would probably pick up his check from work (it was Tuesday after all) and then go down to Best Buy to see what new games they had in.

His headache mocked him for no good reason.

Five minutes later, he was pulling into the parking lot of his place of employment (though privately he referred to it as the HELLHOLE OF THE GALAXY). He parked his car, and got out. He adjusted his shades and stepped inside.

Great, he thought, It's hot in here. Just flamin' great.

As his mind was wont to do, he tuned into the music playing over the intercom and recognized the song, though he wished he hadn't. Rod Stewart singing Ooh La La. How he hated Rod Stewart.

He walked over to customer service and asked for his check.

And of course, the checks hadn't come in yet. His headache gave him a little reminder of Hey! I'm still here! and then retreated again. He glanced down at his watch. It was 1:45. he had to be back here in 2 and a half hours. How he hated his job.

He left dejected, since his plan was now ruined. As he left, he heard that commercial he hated so much, the one with the whiny "HEY MOM!!!!" brat kid. How he wanted to run a pen through that kid's eye. It would be fitting. He felt like running a pen through his own eye every time that commercial comes on. It came on every half an hour. Every other half an hour, that stupid Chicken of the Sea commercial came on, oh he hated that place.

He got back in his car, noticed that his jacket was beginning to soak through, and sighed. He started up the car.

"BABY, BABY, I WANT SOMETHING ELSE-" Music blared at another unholy level, bringing rise to his head ache. Who kept turning up his radio? What sick game was this? He took a deep breath, and thought about his girlfriend, now in the middle of spring break, and visiting her grandparents up north. He hadn't talked to her in half of forever it seemed like, and he didn't even have anything to remind him of her while she was gone.

She had some stories he had given her last weekend, so she would be able to remember him if she got to missing him, but that didn't help him any.

He pulled out of the parking lot and turned right toward the freeway. He had gone about ten feet when the car ahead of him broke hard, and he had to brake hard to to keep from running into it. He felt like cursing, but he rarely did. Only when he was at the very last thread of his patience did he curse.

The red light up ahead turned green, and the cars went. Except for the car in front of him. The lady was looking into her rear view mirror, applying lipstick. For one second, he was tempted to pull forward until he bumped her, but decided against it.

He honked his horn.

The lady looked forward, and saw that there were no cars in front of her. She went. Collins began to move, just as the light turned yellow, watched the lady speed through, and then stopped before he ran the red light. He slammed a palm down on his steering wheel and called the lady a motherless goat kissing trolloc.

And so he sat. His head pounded every now and then, and the light stretched out. He felt like kicking in his teeth. The light went on. How long was this bloody light? He had been sitting there for almost five minutes.

A voice spoke in his head, and he recognized it as his girlfriends voice. She had said it to him as they were pulling out of Barnes and Noble, on the way to drop her off.

"Some stop lights are longer then others." He had grinned then, but he grimaced now. That wasn't the sort of thought he wanted to have while his girlfriend was away. It wasn't going to help him any.

He missed her so much.

Finally, the light turned green. He went and turned left onto the freeway. four exits up, and he would be where he needed to be.

3.

As if he hadn't suffered enough (indeed, he would suffer much more before this day was through), there was a wreck less then one exit up the freeway. Traffic jam. Words from the Weird Al song ran through his head, counterpoint to the song coming from his radio.

I haven't moved one inch from this here spot (honk honk) Traffic jam. The freeway's one big parking lot (honk honk) Traffic jam. Well I thought we were moving, but I guess were not, and I'm stuck right here in the middle (right here in the) Stuck right here in the middle of a traffic jam.

After about ten minutes of the same part running through his head, he was about to get out and walk. His head thrummed momentarily, and then was silent, and the song was gone.

The traffic inched forward, slowly, insanely. He wanted to scream.

Finally, fifteen minutes later (Geez, twenty-five minutes total to go one exit up the freeway), e was at the wreck, and he was moving forward. As most wrecks are, traffic is slagged behind the wreck, but after the wreck, there was ridiculously little traffic. He didn't know where it went, and he didn't really wat to know.

Right now, he just wanted to be at Media Play. He wanted to be seeing if he could find his own personal copy of StarCraft for Macintosh. So down the freeway he went, and got of at the appropriate exit. He turned right, and immediately hit more heavy traffic.

He slumped back against his seat, and turned the music down. He rubbed at his eyes, only to have to open them again a few seconds later when the car behind him honked for him to go. He went passed under the light, and slowed as traffic clumped again. It didn't stop, it just clumped. This, to Collins, was worse then being stopped. Though you were moving forward, you were moving so slowly, and you had to keep yoru foot on the brake so you didn't hit the car in front of you. If your leg got tired of being held up, tough noggies. Deal with it.

So Collins limped along for the next few minutes until finally he got to the turn he needed to get to, and turned right onto the street. Then he had to wait for cross traffic to clear so he could turn left into the Media Play parking lot. Once there, he got out of his car, into the rain, and ran to the door. He opened it and went inside. He went straight to the computer games, and looked. There was StarCraft, but for Windows. He gritted his teeth.

He looked, hoping maybe there was a hybrid version, but of course, there wasn't. He looked behind all the boxes of Windows StarCraft, but couldn't find the Mac version.

He groaned to himself and walked out of the store.

Back through the rain.

Back into his car. Ahhhh, the smell of wet upholstery.

Start the car up, turn down the radio, feel the headache.

He pulled back out, and now had to deal with the ever pleasing job of turning left onto Barett Parkway. At least here there was a light. It wouldn't be possible without one, he thought.

He waited at the light, and it turned green, and the people ahead of him went. He came forward, and then had to brake as the light turned yellow, and then red stopping him at the front of the line for the wait through the light.

He was going to scream he knew it.

Finally, the light turned green, and he turned, changed into the middle of three lanes, and stopped after travelling about 25 yards.

Traffic was jammed up due to a car wreck up ahead. He could feel the scream building.

He sat in his car with his music playing softly, and waited it out, growing more perturbed by the second. He looked at the clock. 2:30. When he left home, it had been 1:30. Traffic was killing him, and he had to be at work in an hour and half.

He really didn't want to work.

FInally he got up to the wreck, and decided to take a look at it, since that was what everyone else was doing, but didn't see anything spectacular. Just a bunch of people standing around talking to the police.

He sighed. People got keyed up over the most trivial things.

Finally, he got back to the freeway onramp, and got on. He headed down the freeway, and ten minutes later, he was at his exit. He got off, and turned left, actually running a red light, but he didn't really care. He headed down the street, and about a mile down, hung a right into his neighborhood, and three minutes later, he was home.

He parked his car in the garage, and rolled the windows down, giving the car a chance to air out.

He went back into the house, and immediately went up to his room. He laid down on the bed, and took a nap.

4.

After what seemed like only a few minutes, the phone rang. He staggered over to his phone, and, eyes still closed, picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi. Where are you?"

He didn't recognize the voice.

"Uhhh... at home. Why? Who's this?"

"Nathan."

"Nathan...."

"At work."

"Work....?" He glanced down at his watch. 4:30. "Oh crap!"

"Yeah, no joke there. You coming?"

"Yeah yeah... I'm on my way."

"Good. See you soon."

"Yeah, uh huh."

click.

Collins rushed to get ready, throwing on his work shirt, and pants. He ran a comb through his hair, not really caring about his appearance for now, and went downstairs. He went out into the garage and got into his car, still smelling of wet upholstery, jacket still soaking through, and started it up.

He pulled out of the garage, and drove to work.

5.

He walked up to the door of his work, and sighed. He really didn't want to work today. He looked down at the small garden rakes, and garden hoes, and whatevers, and laughed, wishing he could just five minutes to live outside the law. He clocked in, went up stairs, and Nathan handed him his till. He went downstairs, signed on to register five, and went into business mode. That meant he was putting out a semblance to cheeriness, and an "I love my job" attitude. Having to be there till midnight, being dead tired, and having a headache, on top of the day he had already wasn't helping any.

As a result, he wasn't really smiling, he was talking in a monotone, and he was generally projecting an air of "I don't want to be here, but I have to pretend like I'm in a good mood, but this is what you get, deal with it."

"HEY MOM!!!! LOOK AT THIS BOX OF LIFE CEREAL! IT SAYS I CAN WIN A CONTEST, AND GET OVER A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THE "MY KID LOVES LIFE" CONTEST!"

He gritted his teeth against the commercial, knowing he would hear it at least 20 more times that day.

His bad mood wasn't helped any when he saw Michelle walk in.

Michelle was one of the Assistant Head Cashiers, and when Nathan wasn't around, she was in charge. Collins hated when she was in charge, because she was lazy.

Whne she was in charge, she would enforce pointless rules, make up new ones to fit her mood, wander off at crucial moments, and in general do as little as possible, and still be considered working.

He could have hit her.

So, when she came walking into the store, Collins prayed that she was here just to talk to Nathan about the schedule, or to pick up her check.

Then she clocked in, and Collins almost cried. He REALLY didn't want to deal with her.

She went upstairs, and a few minutes later, Nathan came downstairs, clocked out, tossed his nametag up on the timeclock, tossed a salute to Collins, and then walked out.

Collins sighed inwardly, and buckled down, pulling out his reserves of patience, and fortifying his fraying nerves.

"Ask any mermaid, you happen to see, what's the best tuna? Chicken of the sea!"

The smarmy radio jingle played through the store, and Collins knew he would hear this one about 20 more times today too.

He sighed and went back to work.

A couple minutes later, he heard an insane kind of giggling, and then it stopped.

Oh no, thought he. Please not those....

The giggling started up again, and he prayed he wouldn't hear those two words.

The laughter stopped.

"That tickles!"

Collins groaned and rolled his eyes up into his head.

The stupid toys were back. They were there every Christmas, every New Years, Every Valentines day, and then again at Easter.

The stupid toys whou would laugh, stop, laugh, and then say That Tickles, or Merry Christmas, or Happy Valentines Day, or whatever holiday it was.

He sighed to himself, and went back to ringing customers through. He looked down the line of customers at his register, and sighed, wishing he had a bagger.

"HEY MOM!!!! LOOK AT THIS BOX OF LIFE CEREAL! IT SAYS I CAN WIN A CONTEST, AND GET OVER A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THE "MY KID LOVES LIFE" CONTEST!"

Then, the lady he feared and dreaded the most stepped into his line, and he almost screamed at her to go somewhere else.

This lady almsot has a schedule. Every Wednesday, at 4 30. She walked in the door, and took a cart. Then, she proceeded to the ATM and pulled out money. (she always paid in check, so where the money goes, he didn't want to know). Then, she wanders off into the store, and an hour later, she comes up the frozen food aisle, and gets into his line. It doesn't matter how many customers are in front of her, doesn't matter how long the wait, she gets in his line.

He has even watched her do it. He has seen her come up the frozen food aisle, and look up and down the registers until she sees him, then she gets into his line.

He sighed inwardly, and cursed her in his head.

He got up to her, and she started to unload her groceries. She put them on the belt, and he started to scan her through.

She picks up a box of noodles, and through whatever sick twist of fate brought THAT box of noodles into HER hand, on THAT day, the box opened and spilled noodles everywhere.

She looked up at him, and he looked at her, telling her with his eyes to clean it up.

"Oops, I spilled some noodles. You'll have to clean that up, I guess." Then she wandered off to get another box of noodles. Collins gaped.

She came back and continued to unload.

He got three-quarters of the way through her order when she just spontaneously left again. He gritted his teeth and finsihed ringing up what was on the belt, and then went around and started unloading her cart so he could continue his work and get her out of there.

She came back and immediately he left to continue ringing her up.

She didn't apologize, she didn't say a word. She just went back to unloading. He could have whacked her with the celery she was buying.

Finally he got her order all rung up, and she started writing out her check. He started to bag her groceries, and put them in the cart, since he had no room on the counter for the bags.

She watched him, holding onto her check.

He moved around, tok her check, entered it, swiped it, inserted it, and dropped it.

He cleared out the screen, and then went back to bagging.

Fill a bag, place it on the counter, wait for her to take it while filling another bag. Fill a bag, put it on the counter, still waiting for her to take the first bag. Fill a third bag, put it on the counter, still waiting for her to take the first bag, running out of room. Fill a fourth bag, put it on the counter, still waiting. Fill a fith bag, move around the counter, pick up a second bag, and put them both in her cart.

Several long minutes later, and no thanks to HER, he got the order loaded and in her buggy. She turned without a word and walked out of the store.

Collins did not wish her a good day.

"HEY MOM!!!! LOOK AT THIS BOX OF LIFE CEREAL! IT SAYS I CAN WIN A CONTEST, AND GET OVER A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THE "MY KID LOVES LIFE" CONTEST!"

Collins rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. 5:15. He was off at midnight.

6.

Finally, after an eternity and a half, 7:30 rolled around, and he was allowed to go on lunch. Michelle commanded he be back in half an hour, or it's a write up.

He didn't bother to point out that Michelle would probably take 45 minutes to an hour on her lunch. Heck, why take a lunch? She doesn't work at all. Her shift is one big lunch.

He went out to the car through the driving rain and sat down in it.

Smell of mildew, wet jacket.

He sighed.

He set his watch alarm for two minutes before his lunch was up, and tried to sleep. The rain thrumming against his windshiled was comforting, but the smell of the car was not. He turned on the air conditioner, and tried to sleep again.

Seconds later, his alarm beeped. He looked at his watch, and blinked his sleepy eyes. HE had slept, but not enough. He wanted more sleep.

And now he had to go back to work.

He hit his fist against the side of the car door, and got out. At least it had stopped raining.

He sighed, looked again at the gardening tools, and then went inside.

He clocked back in, and went back to his register. He turned on his light, and waited for another of those stupid customers to come up.

"HEY MOM!!!! LOOK AT THIS BOX OF LIFE CEREAL! IT SAYS I CAN WIN A CONTEST, AND GET OVER A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THE "MY KID LOVES LIFE" CONTEST!"

He gritted his teeth.

"Are you open?"

The voice was coming from a lady with a large cart. Once again, Collins wished for a bagger.

Is the light on, moron?

"Yes ma'am. I'm open. I can help you." He pulled out his auxiliary reserves of patience, and shored up his highly frayed nerves.

She began putting up her items, and he began ringing them through.

He got halfway through her order when she looked at him.

"You are going to put my groceries in my cart, right?"

No, I'm going to walk away right now, and let you finish, you freaking idiot.

"Yes, ma'am. I will."

No reply. Just a curt nod. Collins surpressed the urge to scream again.

"Ask any mermaid, you happen to see, what's the best tuna? Chicken of the sea!"

Collins shuddered, and finsihed with her groceries, and started bagging them while she dug through her purse for her debit card.

An insane giggling started near the front of his register. Oh please God, NO.

He looked, and sure enough, there on the front of his register, placed by God, or the Devil, or some stupid customer, was one of the laughing dolls, giggling moronically in the hands of a woman who was exclaiming over it delightedly.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"It says 'Waiting for cashier.'"

He reached up and moved his hand flawlessly to the EFT button and hit it twice, then put his hand back down, all without opening his eyes.

He heard the lady punching buttons, and then the register start printing, and then a beep.

He looked up, and checked the detail tape to see what had happened.

"Invalid PIN number, it says, Ma'am."

"Oh no, that isn't the wrong number, here, let me try it again. He cleared out the screen, and hit EFT twice, and she punched in her info. Print-print-BEEP.

Invalid PIN. He told her so again.

"No it isn't! All my PIN numbers are always the same, and it's the same with this one! Your machine is broken."

"Ma'am, I can assure you, the machine is not broken." It was a strain to not say anything too derogatory.An argument such as he had ust used would not have been used if he was in a better mood. If there is an Invalid PIN number, the problem is not with our computer, it is with your card, and you bank."

"No, it isn't. The problem is with your machine, cause I KNOW this is the PIN number!"

He sighed and pulled out his emergency auxiliary backup reserves of patience. He was running dangerously low on tolerance today.

The lady behind her in line decided to amuse herself with the laughing doll and started it up again. Collins tossed an irritated glance at her, but she didn't notice.

"Ma'am, the problem is not our computer, and please stop saying it is. Now, it may very well be that you are putting in the right PIN number, but maybe your bank computer is down. I don't know what the problem is, but our computer doesn't have any PIN Numbers in it's memory. we communicate with your bank, which in turn tells us if it is the right PIN number or not. Now, since I have conclusively proved to you that it is NOT our machine, would you like to speak to a manager to have this resolved?"

"No. I know this is the right PIN Number, and I know that your computer is messing up,

("Ask any mermaid, you happen to see, what's the best tuna? Chicken of the sea!")

but I'm gong to let it go, and go down to the bank, pull out some money, and come back."

"Okay, that's fine. I'll just suspend your order, and retrieve it when you come back."

SHe stormed out without saying another word. Collins suspended the order, just as some one smart alec decided it would be really cool if all the laughing dolls went off at once.

He looked back at the stand, and there was Michelle, illustrious, important, Asst Head Cashier, pressing all the buttons, making them all go off at once. He glanced at the cart that the lady had left behind, and then an idea began to form as his eye alighted on one of the objects in there.

He grinned adn then turned to the next lady.

She still wasn't looking at him, but she decided to press the button on the Laughing Doll From Hell anyway. When it was done, she turned toward her friend, and showed it to her. Collins finished ringing up her groceries. She was about to press the button again, but Collins got her attention.

"Ma'am? Could you please not press that button anymore?"

She looked at him, and smiled very sweetly.

And pressed the button.

7.

It was now an hour later, and the lady whose order he had suspended hadn't come back yet. He grimaced to himself, thinking he would have all those go backs to do after midnight, when the store was closed, and that would keep him here even longer.

He looked at the one object he had seen earlier, and pulled it out, and put it on one of the shelves under his register.

Why did you do that?

No reason. Shut up.

Okay.

Michelle was walking along the front end, strutting and acting like the Queen of the World, and decided that what the front end really needed was another Setting Off of the Dolls. So she walked over, and pushed all of the buttons again.

That was when Collins snapped, and all coherent thought left his head for the next ten minutes.

When it was all over, and the court trial had picked up, he pleaded temporary insanity. he was perfectly in the right, for that was what had happened. He had just lost it, momentarily, and done something awful. It didn't save him from the charge against him though. He wasn't found guilty of First Degree murder, but it was second degree, which was just as bad. Maybe worse, since was spur of the moment.

All the events of that day just crowded together in his mind, and it broke, or at least bent under the weight. Collins was a nice guy, he wouldn't have done anything like it if he hadn't been insane.

Michelle set off all the dolls, and then wandered back out into the store, loafing as usual.

Collins, who was already lost in his own hazy mind, grabbed the object under the cash register, much to the astonishment of Mrs. Elaine Dobbs, who was waiting for him to finish at the time.

He took the miniature garden hoe, which was almost, but not quite, shaped like an axe, and walked over to the stand of Laughing Dolls from Hell, and begin to hack away at them.

He hit the shelf, falling that entire rown to the ground, and he systematically began to hack away at them. With each smiling face he cut, his bloodlust grew, driving him into a frenzy. He grew more hurried, hacking away the dolls, cuttoing through their idiotic grinning faces, and into their obese stuffed bodies, right through the speaker that was their voice box.

He continued to hack at them, growong more frenzied, and didn't notice the front end quiet as everyone turned to look at him.

They all watched, cashier, and customer alike as he went crazy, hacking these dolls to pieces, kicking them away from him when they were done and moving onto the next. He was in an insane fight against imaginary demons, and slaughtering them left and right. Every face he saw was a Grinning Idiot Doll Face.

That was the time when Michelle cam walking up to see what was going on.

She saw Collins attacking the dolls, and rushed over to try to stop him.She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he swung around.

All he saw when he looked at her was an Grinning Idiot Doll Face, and he took the hoe to it.

He didn't feel the thwish of metal through cloth and stuffing like he expected to. He felt more of a chunk as the blade of the hoe met skin and bone, and cut through it. Michelle fell back, already dead, and landed with a thlap on the ground, in a sea of stuffing, cloth, plastic, and blood.

Collins noticed none of this of course, he was in the midst of his frenzy, hacing anything larger then a hand, and he went to work on Michelle's body, hacking it to pieces.

One of the customers screamed then, and that snapped him out of it. he tunred to see what was the matter, and saw everyone staring at him.

He looked down at himself, and then down at Michelle, and all the hacked up dolls.

He dropped the hoes and took a step back. His mouth trembled, and then opened, and then he screamed. It was a wordless scream of pure animal anguish, and then blackness took him, an dhe knew no more until he awoke in his jail cell.