Genre: Dark humour
Word count: 100
“You, madam, have fatally overstepped the mark.”
“Leb be bout!”
Silly old trout. Dose of y’ own medicine. Enter the zone of a faceless nobody without a voice, hands tied by The System. …Except now you’re at the mercy of My System. “Madam, you called me ‘boy’ again today and shouted at me in front of the customers. My job is to stack the freezers, not spend hours helping you choose wine so all my ice cream melts.”
“Bolice! Boy’s a bycho.”
“Too right, I’m a psycho. Now an officially jobless one with infinite time on his hands for torture.