Career Change
When Google saw the real thief, he realized he’d just beaten an innocent old lady to death. He looked up at the ceiling and shouted, “OMG! First day on the job and I’m already about to get fired! I guess I’ll have to find some crappy backup job… like washing dishes or something.”
Leo watched him, feeling a mix of helplessness and sympathy. He walked over, patted Google on the shoulder, and said, “Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be fine. They’re not gonna fire you that easily. Everyone messes up sometimes.” Google glanced at him, eyes misty. This was his dream job. He really liked being a gangster.
Just then, a cop strolled by and overheard them. “Hey kid,” he said, “you think dishwashing is easy?” He pointed to a flyer taped to the window of a restaurant not far away. “Look at that. They’re hiring a junior-level dishwasher. Five years of experience required. You got five years, huh?” Leo and Google stared at the flyer. “Oh shit,” Leo muttered. Even dishwashing had prerequisites now. At the bottom of the flyer, in bold: College degree preferred.
A single tear slid down Google’s right cheek. “Damn… I might not even qualify to be a dishwasher.” The cop nodded solemnly. “My mom’s been washing dishes for over twenty years… still hasn’t made senior level.”
Leo thought, “Damn… these days the job market is so unbelievably competitive… no wonder last time I heard a Harvard PhD ended up cleaning toilets.”
A Grim Conversation
That hit Google hard. He looked like hope itself had been yanked out of his soul. Right then, their boss—Canelo—walked into the scene. He made a beeline for Chief Grayson, the police officer in charge. The two men started talking. Serious vibes. Intense eye contact. Grim faces. Their hands moving like they were directing traffic or casting spells.
From the look of it, they seemed to be discussing the crime — who was responsible, who should be punished… maybe even locked up for life. Whatever it was, it looked heavy.
Google looked up, despair still on his face. “I’m screwed. Not just fired. I’m going to jail.” Leo looked at him, unsure what to say. Then: “Wanna… take a little walk closer? Maybe… accidentally overhear some stuff?”
Google nodded. “Good idea.” So they casually strolled in that direction, pretending to admire a crappy painting on the wall while clearly trying to eavesdrop.
Secrets and Massages
Canelo and Grayson were in the middle of what looked like a diplomatic summit. Just as Leo and Google got within earshot, they heard Grayson say, “Man… that massage was intense. Her hands were flying all over me. It felt like she was channeling some ancient kung fu technique or something. I left feeling like a brand new person.” Then he leaned in and added, “And they’re hot. Like, really hot. You know what I mean?”
Canelo, frowning deeply, nodded like he was hearing state secrets. “Did you… get the extra services?” Grayson replied, deadly serious, “Yeah. I even got the four-hands session. Three full hours.”
Canelo’s eyes narrowed. He clenched his jaw. “Man… two people? Three hours? I didn’t know Chief Grayson still had that kind of stamina.” Grayson smirked. “Easy,” he said. “I took something forbidden.”
He winked. “Took a Viagra.”
Still stone-faced, Grayson added, “You know the wildest part? I didn’t even pay. I just flashed my badge. They let me walk.” Canelo chuckled. “Oh, that’s the Chief Grayson I know.”
Leo and Google just stared at each other in silent disbelief. They never thought they’d hear people talk about something so stupid with such serious faces.
Fallout
A moment later, the two men walked off in separate directions. Grayson went back to barking orders. Business as usual. Canelo walked up to Google and Leo. Google lowered his head. “Boss, I’m sorry. I screwed up. I’ll clean out my desk tomorrow. You don’t need to fire me. I’ll resign.”
Canelo smiled slightly and patted him on the shoulder. “Silly kid. It’s fine. Stuff like this happens. Last year I accidentally killed, like, eight—maybe ten—grannies. No big deal. I personally know Grayson really well. You’re covered. Just learn from it next time.”
And with that, he turned and walked away casually, hands in his pockets.
For the first time all day, a long-lost smile returned to Google’s face.
Just Another Day
And just like that, everyone went home. Just like nothing’s happened. Leo sank into his couch, flipped on the TV. The news was on. A reporter read the headline: “Police report a tragic incident at a local shopping mall today. An elderly woman, reportedly frail due to age, slipped and fell… and sadly did not survive.”
The broadcast then cut to a field interview with Chief Grayson, standing outside the mall amid flashing lights and yellow tape. He stood tall, chest out, back straight, casually placing a finger under his chin—clearly trying to act cool. Then he gave the camera a slow, thoughtful nod—dead serious.
“We believe the victim… slipped on a banana peel,” he said, with a completely straight face. “Real tragic stuff. But hey, mall floors can be dangerous. That’s why I always wear tactical boots. Grip is everything.”
Leo exhaled slowly. “This world…” he muttered, “it’s just so damn absurd.”