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Made in Done
A boss you've turned to when all other jobs turned you away. "We'll take your application under consideration."— those words have been so deeply ingrained into your memory that you can't escape them no matter how hard you work. Your livelihood depends on how wanted you are.
That is a cold truth that you only understand when you're the victim of it.
The vile stench of sewer water floods your nostrils, rats fight for slop in the muddied streets as you lurch through the alley. A 40x96 reinforced steel entryway towers over you and you wait there after knocking four times.
Through the small porthole, a man could be discerned on the other side.
"What is my order?" Said the unknown voice.
You already know the answer, "Three large boxes of Papa John's Pizza, sir.".
As expected, this door of steel is swung open to reveal the "boss" he'd heard about from whispers in the Done News staff. This sleazy, morbidly obese bastard motions for you to follow him into this hideout.
You almost consider hightailing it before remembering that you've got nowhere else to go. After some hesitation, the door shuts behind you.
The room is dingy being lit solely by one lightbulb, you can vaguely make out posters and news clippings strewn around the chamber. At the center of the room is a hardwood desk that the man loomed over.
"Wasn't expecting a guest, if I did then I would've made some plates for you." Said the man, almost the entirety of the desk is layered with empty plates.
An incalculable number of plates, to think a human could possibly eat this much... he really is the Infamous 100 Plates.
You try to hide your disgust as the man picks his teeth, his teeth are inhuman and much comparable to those of sharks. You have never seen a "human" like him...
No choices left. You tell him that you need a job, you've been turned away by everyone. It feels unfair to be brought down to this point, the streets feel like a different world to the ones the upper class know.
Now you're here, talking to this grotesque landwhale for help. You might as well count your days cause there's no way he'd—
"Ok. You're hired."
???
Wait what?
"Ya' know, I've got a real bone to pick with Done County's new generation of crooks. They are beloved by the residents and new opportunities are always open to them– yet they still choose this life..."
The man continues on, "When I first hit the streets, it was harassment. When they hit the streets– it was unspoken respect. They don't know what it's like to be fighting in the mud nor do they know a world without plates on their table. It's a war."
You feel a sense of Deja vu, the words had been made clear to the point where you would try and remember if you'd heard them before.
"We are at war, always."
"Will you be my soldier?"
You sit there in silence, who was this man he sat in front of? How could he understand? You slowly begin to understand and when you do, it becomes clear.
"I want many plates on my table, sir."
The man grinned ear to ear, his jagged teeth fully bare for the world to see.
"GRAHAHA~ Welcome to my crew :ongang:! You start today."
