"Southern Hospitality" (Jasper T. Jowls x Male!Furry!Reader)

Chapter 1: Gainful Employment

Well, here you are. You were a random guy in his early twenties, working a thankless, minimum wage job. You worked at a gas station that was also a convenience store, and you were treated like absolute garbage there. Customers screamed at you for things that weren't even your fault. Your manager forced you to cover for other employees that she willingly sent home early. She played favorites. Her favorite employees got random bonuses, were sent home well before the end of their shifts, and you were there to pick up the slack.

It was fucking torture. You despised the job with all of your being. Treated like shit, paid next to nothing, and expected to pick up the slack caused by your manager's bullshit favoritism. The truth was that you were looking for a new job. You'd been looking for months. Months. Fast food places, grocery stores, coffee shops. Nobody called back. 

You'd recently put in an application at a local pizzeria. You knew that place well. Back when you were growing up, that place had an in-house band known as the Rock-Afire Explosion. Those were some of your best memories.. Dook Larue banging on the drums, Beach Bear jamming on guitar, Fatz Geronimo on the keys.. Billy Bob and Looney Bird.. Rolfe DeWolfe and Earl Schmerle.. Mitzi.. God, those were good times.

You still had some merchandise.. A Dook Larue plush, a Rolfe DeWolfe plush, and a few shirts. A Dook Larue shirt and a Rolfe DeWolfe shirt were, ironically, the only ones that still fit you..

You had just gotten off of work about an hour ago. You were tired. You'd showered, had dinner, and were trying to just relax with some Netflix. However, your relaxation was cut off by your cellphone ringing. You groaned, thinking it was your boss.. but you picked it up none the less. 

You didn't recognize the number.. Eh, screw it. You picked up anyhow.

"Hello?" you answered.

A high-pitched voice with southern drawal spoke on the other end. 

"Howdy.. Is this that [Y/N] [L/N] feller? The one we got an application from?" asked the voice. 

You blinked.. Could this be a chance to get a new job? 

"Yes. That's me." you responded as politely as you could. The other voice spoke up again.

"Congratulations, Mister [L/N]. We've been lookin' for someone who ain't some lyin' jerk, and from that resume a' your's, everything checked out. Can y' come in this Friday so we can actually interview ya? Just need to make sure a few last minute things are squared away."

"Sure. I can come down on Friday. No problem." you responded as best you could..

"Great! See y' then." And, the voice on the other end hung up. You gave a confused blink. An interview.. You had an interview that Friday? That was.. a blessing. You might be able to leave that shitty quick-e-mart job after all of these years and work somewhere that'll treat you better.

You hoped.. You really hoped this pizzeria job would actually treat you like a living being..