When not-knock outs become knock outs. [olli]

He stood there staring at milk carton. Not just any sort of milk carton but an out of date milk carton. Usually one might scowl and throw the fucking thing to claims right away so they could get money back for it but did Ian? Nope nope. All the nopes. The kid did not stand there worried about what happened if management saw him with a day out dated milk carton even though it was hardly his fault but Bridgette's the chick that worked on his days off. He stood there and stared in wonder at the date and wondered just how good a movie it might make. Like a monster movie. Like what would happen if someone had bought this outdated milk. Maybe a druggie that didn't know the different between a smooth pour of the chunky shit that came with spoiled milk and then you know....they mutated or turned into a zombie. How cool with that be? Pretty good moral to the story. Check your dates bitches.

And while he was standing there pondering over these things, the music from his buds blaring in his ears a manager he should have been watching for tapped at his shoulder making Ian almost lose his fucking shit. I mean. Jesus you can't just go tapping a guy on the shoulder while he is contemplating these things. What if he mistook you for a fucking zombie? He whirled, stumbling to keep hold of his weapon milk carton in case he had to chuck it at the mutated zombie druggie only to find you know a very bewildered manager who's lips were becoming thinner by the second. Hand reaching out a second time to pull the ear buds from Ian's ears. "Ian what have I told you about listening to your music while working?"

"It makes me a rather paranoid and unacceptable person?" He asked tilting his head so slightly to a side. He wondered how thin lips could actually become before they could not thin anymore. He never found that point with this man because they always seemed to become all the more impossibly thinned out every time they spoke. "No. It isn't allowed. Please don't do it again....though paranoid I will agree too. Anyway we have a new associate and I would like you to show him around for me please?"" And with that the man stepped aside to show off a rather shorter young man and for some reason his face looked vaguely familiar. "This is Mr. Oleander Finch. Mr. Finch this is Ian Hawk. Please don't screw around too terribly much Ian." And with that the man turned to leave giving Ian one last look of displeasure though honestly Ian couldn't give a rat's ass because he was two shakes from letting go of that damn carton again which he had to, again, scramble to catch as he stared at the other boy.

"You got to be fucking kidding me."