Freezer 42

Freezer 42 Chapter 2: Miniature Malamute

"Can you tell me what this is Mister Meats?" Rittula Staint demanded, fanning a set of pictures out on her desk in front of him. Meats cocked his head to the side and inspected the photos with false interest. He knew he wasn't responsible, he just liked to make Staint squirm. 

Meats used to have a bit of a thing for the way her jaw cocked to the side when she was done with his shit. She had differing variations of it depending on what shit she was done with. Personally he preferred the left side version, this being an indication of her mild annoyance with Meats disregard for the value of money. 

"Well, uh, looks like broken cases there boss." Meats answered, taking his hat off and scratching his scalp while he turned one of the photos over, inspecting each grainy pixel. They were broken cases, and he truly didn't know why they were, but that never stopped Staint from assuming he did. 

"Yes, I know that. Can you tell me how they ended up in that state?" Staint asked, drumming her fingers on her faux wood desk. Meats shrugged.

"Well, uh, boss, when the boxes fall they are subject to newtons first law of iner-" Meats began sarcastically before Staint cut him off.

"Yes Mister Meats, as they are when they are still upon the racks. An object at rest will stay at rest until acted upon by an outside force. Mister Meats, the question I want answered is; what force acted upon them while at rest to change that?" Staint replied curtly. She gave him one of those evil little smiles that let Meats know he wasn't going to get away from this. 

"Well, I uh... Hell I don't know. Rittula, check the cameras if you want to know that. I just work on the racks and the forkers. If there was any problem with those the system should have sent us an alert." Meats answered reluctantly. As far as he knew things were functioning as they should on his end. 

"I have. Why do you think I know about them in the first place? It's not like anyone in this building trusts or likes me enough to just tell me what's going on. Seeing as that includes you I have to ask, which one are you?" Staint explained, becoming a little deflated. 

Meats didn't have to think about his answer much. He knew he didn't like Rittula, at least not any more. On the other hand he couldn't deny that he trusted her, if only due to her cut and dry personality and lack of imagination. Even if she accused him of causing problems more often than not, he had to admit it came from her dedication to the job. 

"I don't like you. I trust you, as hard as that is to believe, but I don't like you. I know you want to make sure your ass is covered boss. That I can depend on, but the way things were before? Never going to happen again." Meats answered, standing up and pulling his overall straps back over his shoulders. 

"I... Thank you for your honesty, Arnold. I appreciate that you trust me. And, you know you don't have to call me boss, right?" Rittula said, her expression softening. Meats looked out the window of her office, watching pallets move about in the frigid air. She hadn't called him Arnold in years. 

"I know. But I do it anyway to remind myself. No sense in forgetting." Arnold said, walking towards the door. He paused as his hand closed around the knob. 

"You need anything else from me?" Meats asked, glancing back towards the desk. Rittula was staring at an old photo hanging on the wall. Meats decided he didn't want to look at it himself. 

"No, Mister Meats. Thank you for your time. Can you send Siobhan in here after you? She should be waiting in the hall." Staint asked, putting on her sad little smile as she looked at him. 

"No problem, boss." Meats answered as he shut the door behind him. He sighed. She knew why he called her boss. Meats looked up at Siobhan sitting awkwardly in the small chair outside of Staints office.