He hated this job.
Or he hated his boss. Sometimes he couldn’t tell which – they were more or less the same thing. But on this day, he hated the job even more.
Could anyone imagine the plight of a mortuary attendant on Halloween night? Especially one who was particularly afraid of ghosts?
“Curse you, Sam” he muttered, remembering his annoying-as-hell boss who’d asked him that afternoon to run the night shift. He was supposed to be on leave.
“You gonna stop whining or what?” his co-worker Matt said. Matt was a dick; he was basically the biggest a$$hole at that place. “I also had places to be today but I’m not spendin’ the entire night whining about it.”
Trust his toxic as hell boss to pair him with this piece of sh!t on a day like this.
“You know, this shift would have been a lot more comfortable if you were one of the corpses in the freezer, Matt,” he said, walking off.
“Yeah, we all have wishes, princess,” Matt said, before shoving his head back into the porno mag he was reading.
Sheesh, no wonder no female worker stays here longer than two weeks. The damn guy’s a human list of don’ts at the office, he groaned as he sat down at the lobby.
“Oy princess!”
Ignore the sonofab!tch
“Sofia the first!”
“You know, I’d have been surprised you knew who that was, but I guess you’re reading it in that stupid porno mag, aren’t ya?” he shouted.
“Yeah, well, a guy’s gotta do something to keep boredom away. Wanna go…”
“No!”
“You haven’t even heard by proposal, Cinderella!”
“Yeah, that’s why I said no. I don’t wanna hear it.” He called out.
“Where’re your kids this night.”
Can you shut up and continue reading?
“They’re at that Haunted House party on 4th.”
“Aren’t they a little too young for that?”
“Bro, my youngest is 14. I think they know what they’re doing!” he said. I pray they know what they’re doing, he mused, cause if Daphne comes back with her skirts torn, I’mma…
“Hey Eric!”
Why was he calling his name this time?
“What?”
“C-Come…Come s-see this!”
“Dude I’m not reading that…”
“Just come here!”
He walked over slowly to where Matt was, only to see him looking ghostly white at his cell phone.
“What gives?” he said, looking into the phone screen. It was a text from Nick, one of their co-workers:
“Hey you sick piece of work. The old slave driver Sam’s dead. Just heard from his wife. The guy died last night! Come celebrate the life of the WORLD’S WORST BOSS with us at Polly’s Bar,” it read.
He was confused. “So, what gives?”
As Matt turned to him with a frightful look on his face, it hit him.
If the Boss died yesterday, then who asked them to come to work today?
The lights went off.
Omg! 🤪