Nasty Bug Man (Beetlejuice X Reader)

Help Wanted

Death is something considered to be taboo to the living.  Some try to avoid the subject all together. Others embrace it, obsess over it, even.  But, no matter how one views death, it is inevitable. Death sucks. Especially if it’s the death of a loved one.  But, as the living often say, the dead will live in a better place and in our memories.

    “This fucking sucks!” You crossed your arms in frustration.  “A whole month?!”

    “Yup,” your co-worker, Jake, sighed. “This place is gonna be shut down for a whole month for renovations.” 

    You and Jake were gossiping as you both rolled silverware in the back room of the restaurant you both worked at.   

“I just wish I would have known earlier.” You said, putting another napkin of silverware in your ever growing pile. “I could have already had a temporary job by now.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have skipped the mandatory meeting last week.  That was the whole point of the meeting.”

“Man, I was way too hungover for a meeting at 8:00 am on a Saturday.  No thank youuu.”  

“Fair point,” Your friend chuckled, “You were so trashed that night.”  

“And you were the best designated driver ever,” you replied back, booping his nose.  “But seriously, I’m gonna need another job in order to pay next month's rent or else I’m screwed.”  

The tall boy patted your back, “Don’t worry, you’ll find one.  I can always see if there are any openings at the musical theatre summer camp I’m gonna be at!”

“Hm,” you thought about it. “Yeah, sure.  Send me the info later. I gotta get back on the floor before Birkmeyer chews my ear off.”

“Will do!” Jake chirped.

You strolled out of the back room and into the kitchen, multiple workers rushing by, busy as worker bees.  Dirty dishes, unfinished food, and fresh, complimentary bread rolls passed by you. With all the chaos of the kitchen distracting you, you ran into someone.  And unfortunately, that someone was your asshole boss, Mr. Birkmeyer.

    “(Y/N),” The obese man huffed in your face, wafting the unpleasent scent of cigarettes into your nostrils. “What the hell took you so long back there?”

    You held yourself back from gagging long enough to reply.  

    “Sorry, Mr. Birkmeyer, me and Jake got to talking and-”

    “Yeah, like I give a shit,” Birkmeyer rolled his eyes, his balding head shining with sweat, “Just get on the floor, you got another table.”  And with that, he waddled away into his office beyond the kitchen, slamming the door behind him.  

    You’ve been dealing with that asshole’s attitude for a year.  You hated it at this stupid waitressing job. Your true passion was musical theatre.  

Ever since your parents took you to a local production of “Little Shop Of Horrors”, you have been obsessed with musicals!  Theatre became your life! You began auditioning for every community theatre in your area, and you would BEG your parents to buy every single cast album you laid your eyes on.  And you loved every single one!  

Accept Brigadoon.  You did Brigadoon is high school, and yeah, you fuckin’ killed it.  But it SUCKED ASS! IT WAS SO BORING! You still hated Brigadoon to this day...

 ...Fuck Brigadoon.  

Now, you’re in your sophomore year of college with a major in musical theatre.  Now, you live in an apartment with your roommate, in the middle of a quaint, normal town, trying hard to scrape by on rent with this shitty waitress job and that asshole of a boss.  The ONLY things that made you keep this stupid job was Jake, and the 9 dollars an hour pay. Not the best, but still enough to live off of with the right amount of hours.