Hatchetfield.

Killer Tie

Ken loved this tie. He got it from a recently deceased family member, the type he vaguely knew but really only wished happy holidays. They died of some sort of lung issue or something, he didn't really remember. All he actually knew was that they had a killer tie, and their spouse was going to burn it for some reason if no one wanted it, so, naturally, he jumped at the opportunity.

The only issue Ken had run into was that the tie started getting tighter as he wore it. Something about friction, he guessed. He found himself complaining about it occasionally, and even accidentally bickered about it to his favorite employee. He didn't mean to, but the thing was so darn distracting, and it started getting harder to pull off. But it was worth the annoyance to wear such a nice tie.

Ken Davidson was fucking dead. Paul wasn't quite sure how to feel about this fact. Mr. Davidson was a hardass sometimes, sure, but he wasn't a bad person, and he loved his family. The main thing, though, was that Paul just didn't want to find a new job. He was comfortable where he was, he'd had this job for as long as he could remember, and he didn't want to switch things up. Paul didn't like change.

He thought, however, that this funeral might be worse than finding a new job. Mr. Davidson's wife was sobbing during her speech, daughter nearby crying as well. Paul also didn't like strong displays of emotion. This entire thing made his skin crawl, and he wanted to leave as soon as possible. But he was curious what would've pushed Mr. Davidson to the brink.

"Ken was a good man, a good husband, and such a good dad. He loved our Penny more than anything. I-I-" Carol paused, breaking down for the 5th time in this speech. She'd barely managed to even begin. "His uncle died recently, but he stayed strong for us. His biggest comfort, though, was this tie."

Carol held a bright orange tie, some pattern weaved in that Paul couldn't make out from the distance he was at. "He loved this tie so much that-that-" Carol covered her mouth for a moment. "He died in this tie. Ken was into some unique things, but I never thought he'd do this. I found him on our doorknob-" Carol sobs harder. "WITH HIS PANTS DOWN!"

"Yeah, that makes sense..." Paul muttered. Somewhere nearby, Ted cheered. Paul rolled his eyes. What a douchebag.

"I-If only he would've told me. I would have choked him as much as he wanted!"

Paul felt the discomfort rising, and he was relieved when Carol was ushered away from the podium to sit back down. Without the sobbing and sex talk, the rest of the event was stomachable. Be that as it may, before Paul could sneak away from the mess, Ted was wrapping an arm around his shoulders, immediately bringing Paul's slightly-less-than-average mood back down to significantly-below-average. Ted had a penchant for touching people without ever asking, and especially against protest.

"Dude," he laughed. "Can you believe Mr. Davidson went out crankin' his own gank?"

"Cranking his o- what?"

"Yannow," Ted shook a hand, "rockin' the rooster."

Paul stared.

"Jeez, Paul! Jacking off! Man, it's a wonder how you talk to people."

"I don't think those phrases are used in most conversation."