The Starbucks Massacre

Chapter 1

The line I was waiting in had to be record breaking. The entire Starbucks was full of people, and no wonder, it was 110 degrees outside. Hot weather was typical in my town, Bisbee, Arizona. 

"So," what do you think about this new establishment?" I heard a nerd say to another in front of me in the line. The second nerd pushed up his glasses.

"Well," he said, "I hate how it brings new folks to our small town, but, I could always use a cold drink."

"I concur," the other man said. I groaned. The people in front were ordering a thousand things. The workers were  working furiously. I watched one who was making a frapuccino. The man poured in some coffee beans and some milk, and then stealthily slipped in this clear liquid out of a small vial.

I looked over to the lady who was ordering the drink, but she didn't see the mysterious act; she was too busy chatting away with her friends.

"Stephanie?" the worker asked, his teenage voice cracking.

"Oooh, that's me!" Stephanie said. Her friends giggled. I didn't understand the "joke" 

                    The group of friends sat down at a table and started to drink their drinks.  The entire time I was in line, I noticed the workers slipping the same substance into every customer's drink. It was my turn in line. I stepped up to the counter and looked at the menu written on a blackboard. How artsy. 

"What'll you have sir?" the  Teenage worker asked.

"I'll have a caramel frap," I said. 

"Okay, that'll be-"

"And this time," I said, "keep that weird crap out of my drink."

"I'm sorry sir," the teenager said with worry in his eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh," I said, leaning forward, "I think you do."

"Sir, I can assure you we do not put any "crap" in our drinks. That's against our policy."

"Fine," I said, "Just make my damn drink."

"Certainly," he said, picking up a fresh cup, "that'll be 19.99 Mr. ?..."

"Sean," I said, gritting my teeth. 

"I'll have your drink ready in a minute, sir."

                        I leaned against the wall, watching the teenager prepare my drink.  He did the usual coffee making process, but poured some of the mysterious liquid into the cup. He poured whip cream over it and drizzled some caramel. Putting on the top, he set it down on the counter.

"Sean," he called.  I stepped up to the counter, grabbed my drink and sat down at a table.

"How bad can it be?" I asked myself, and my mouth reached for the straw. At that very moment, Stephanie stood up.

"Nobody talks about my boyfriend like that!" Stephanie yelled, and punched one of her friends in the face. Her friend was thrown back in her chair which clattered to the floor. He friends stood up, raised her fists, and threw a couple punches at Stephanie. The last punch dropped her to the floor. Stephanie's friend picked up Stephanie by the shirt and threw her against the glass-plate window. Blood smeared as her face wiped across it. Everyone in the room stood in silence as Stephanie's unconscious body was thrown through the window.