Black Friday was just around the corner, and Bretimus had been trembling in his shorts for the last three weeks. Besides the horror stories about employees being trampled, beaten, and generally harassed, all the employees but him and the creepy, 80 year old asian man working in kids' clothing had taken sick days, and Bretimus was forced to work Black Friday virtually alone. As 4:00 AM slowly approached, the growing crowd of 40-somethings in velvet track suits slowly formed a human wall around the store, closing in every twenty minutes, swinging their purses and snarling like savage beasts. Bretimus found himself overwhelmed at 3:58, as the door finally broke through from pressure and thousands of howling, menopausal working mothers came bounding in, knocking over aisle lines and beating each other over the head for the latest items. In the frenzy, Bretimus was kicked to the ground, struggling as the wave of women slowly washed over him. His life began flashing before his eyes; and then, miraculously, the crowd quelled. As his vision slowly stopped spinning, Bretimus slowly regained feeling in his crushed fingers, and attempted to push himself up. Unluckily for him, none of the vicious beasts now prowling the store seemed to care. Then, a burly man stepped into the wreckage that was the store's entrance, surveyed the area, and stomped his way, slowly, over to Bretimus, who was still on the ground. The man looked, left, right, then raised his boot, tapped a button, and grinned as several stiletto heels extended from the bottom of the boot. "We'll make this seem like an accident," the man said, and brought his foot down hard.
Bretimus is dead. He was a townie.
IT IS NOW DAY 5.