This was carnage. It was beyond anything Mark had ever seen in his 15 years working varying retail jobs:
This was the first Black Friday on the year fluffies launched. He had only just been trained to work at the newly opened Fluffmart and had about as much experience anyone else in the world did at the moment. The crowds outside the building nearly made him piss his pants before the doors had even been opened. When they did?
People flooded in like zombies from a movie. It was a human tidal wave. Fists were flying, purses were being whipped around like flails, some moron had taken their little girl to this shopping slaughterhouse and she was being pushed side to side like a buoy on a turbulent ocean. Fluffies were being grabbed out of their enclosures like they were a cure to cancer. Shrieking foals flailing around, mothers needing to feed their young being separated forcefully and screaming in desperation to get them back. Some fat lady had fallen onto a holiday play area and knocked down the fencing blocking in what were supposed to be display items, a mother and her babies. Those who could do so got onto the mareâs back as she tried to run away, screeching.
âMunstahs! Wun babbehs! Wun fwom munstahs!â She pleaded to the two foals which had been left behind in the hurry. Mark could see all the life leave her eyes as her little precious children were turned into a soupy paste of fur and organs over many stampeding feet.
âI want dat alicorn! You give it to me right now you dumb bitch!â Cawed a woman who had likely been on the cover of White Trash Monthly at least three times, trying to wrestle a terrified purple alicorn from a staff member, Ashley. Nice girl. Her day was ruined when the woman got both hands around the fluffyâs throat and ripped itâs fucking head off. No, really. Spine and all. She had just performed a Mortal Kombat fatality in real life and Mark couldnât take the time to even deal with this mentally because that was one fire in an inferno.
Spinning on his heel he watched in happen as if in slow-motion. Someone had whipped out the pepper spray. This was nothing new to him. If you had never witnessed a macing during Black Friday could you even call yourself a retail employee? ButâŚhe knew it was going to happen. A cruel turn of fate. Like God pressing a red button up in Heaven to dump a load of steaming shit on the young and defenseless. There was a little exhibit box showing off a number of chirpies. They were crawling around their litter, giving cheerful peeps, suckling off rubber teats on the sides of the boxes. Their manager had come up with the bright idea to affix a sign on the box that said âWe JUST opened our eyes! Weâre so happy that our first sight will be a new momma or daddy!â Yeah, if only. The pepper spray which had just been discharged was being pulled into the fucking case because of a ventilation fan inside. The cloud of noxious chemicals was essentially now trapped inside the display, the chirpies inside giving terrified and pain peeps. Tears flowed endlessly from their eyes. They coughed and hacked, their lungs practically on fire. They threw up milk and retched on the litter. He watched one actually try to scratch itâs eyes out on the litter, apparently not knowing what it could do and trying anything to free itself from the pain.
Nope. Nope. Nuh uh. Retail jobs were a dime a dozen. Mark stepped over to the staff room, the door ominously ajar. Walking in slowly he would see a red stallion raping the ever-loving shit out of a pink mare which had itâs rear legs so badly trampled upon that they were basically nothing more than red stumps with shard of bone sticking out. âEnfâŚenfâŚdummeh mawe wike big no-no stickâŚâ The mare screeched and pleaded for help but Mark had decided that it wasnât his business. All of this shit? Not his deal anymore. Collecting his coat, he would swing out the back door and quickly walk to his car.
Hours later heâd be idly watching the news and browsing job listings when they showed the typical Black Friday carnage as they always did. Of interest, the Fluffmart. Video footage of the place once things had gotten under control showed aisles slicked with blood and caked with fluffy shit. Some guy swept foals into a dustbin, and others were picking up carcasses by the tail and slinging them into big contractor trashbags.
âThink Iâm done with retail.â
