Our hero made the familiar trek that he knew so well. He made his way around the hallowed Customer Service counter and down the long back hall. To his right, the wall was lined with the smiling pictures of legends from the past. The Employee of the Month wall proudly displayed an exemplary Team Member from each month since the store had opened. June of 1995: Gary Montana, AKA "Uno", the self-taught bagger cum cashier who pioneered the now famous "Check 'n' Bag" technique. May of 2002: Maria Habanero, a pioneer who shattered the glass ceiling by becoming the first Hispanic woman to get promoted to the cash office, probably ever. December of 2005: Nick Boxer, the stocker who averaged an astounding 80 cases an hour for an entire month.
McBain made his way past picture after picture of these packaging pilgrims, until he came to the months of May through July 2010. He saw three empty spots with three empty wall anchors driven into the dry wall and snickered.
"Some people just don't appreciate the classics," he muttered aloud.
As he passed Frank McBuggy's most recent "three-peat", he smirked and said, "Must have airbrushed the shit off of his nose."
Finally, McBain reached the lonely door at the end of the hall. He reared his right fist back to knock, hesitated, then turned the knob. He had never knocked before, why start now.
He walked into the office and saw Shackleford leaning back in his chair facing the far wall. The closed circuit monitors on his shelf flashed images of each department in sequence. The glow from the monitors illuminated the Store Manager Excellence plaques hung on the wall across the dimly lit office.
"I've been expecting you," said the grocery store skipper, as he turned to face his bagger. "My God, McBain. You look like shit. You lose your razor? And, and....is that whiskey I smell on your breath?"
"You know what they say, Rusty, idle hands do the devil's work," shot back McBain.
"That's your problem! It's always been your problem! All the potential in the world, but you piss it away on booze and fast women! You're more concerned about putting on a show than being a team player and following company standard practice!"
"Fuck you, Shackleford," replied Brick. "You called me, remember? And what a short memory you have. Maybe if my pictures were still on that wall out there..."
"Oh, here we go. Listen, I don't like your attitude. I don't like your methods. You're right, I did call you back in, but I had to swallow a pound and a half of pride to do it. Don't make this more difficult than it has to be."
"I'm listening," said the aproned man with a commanding presence.
"Brick. All hell is breaking loose out there. The crew speaks of mutiny. These greenhorns have no clue how to handle a crisis like this. They're not salty, like the old warhorses we used to work with."
"Ha!" laughed McBain. "Remember Smitty in the blackout of '99!"
"Of course!" chuckled Shackleford. "How could I forget? That old bastard. Leave it to a blind guy!"
"Look, Brick. We're eating shit right now. Can't keep up. I've got customer complaints every 10 minutes, and the District Manager has been blowing up my cell all day. What's worse, the city council is concerned that we're not going to be able to supply the town in case of an emergency. The mayor has been on my ass all day. I can't afford any screw ups. No collateral damage today, clear?"
"Crystal," said McBain.
The hero turned and pressed the handle on the door to leave.
"McBain!" yelled Shackleford. Brick turned, and caught the bottle of Aspirin that Rusty threw at him.
"You might need these."
"I'll take 2, bag my ass off, and call you in the morning," said the hero, whose apron looked like a backwards cape. "It's showtime.
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