Pet Shop
3/1/01-5/1/01
3 January 2001 - PET SHOP
I've got a new job working in an exotic pet shop. It pays well, but I'm sick of telling disappointed customers that we don't stock puppies or kittens. However, I am surprised by how few people want to own a leech, or a jar of plankton.
In an effort to generate sales, my boss, Roy Wood, is attempting to double the exoticness of our animals, by splicing two or more together. So far it seems to be working; this morning I sold four hens, which had scorpions glued to their beaks.
4 January 2001 - PET SHOP
I'm having doubts over the exotic nature of some of the pets my boss stocks in his "exotic pet shop". I don't know about you, but if you ask me, two puppies glued to a side of roast beef isn't "exotic", it's just a bit cruel.
Also, my boss Roy Wood has been trying to get me to sell ordinary cats as "reverse cats", by showing them to customers rear-end first. I tried this yesterday, but the customer, a young priest, accused me of presenting him with subliminally suggestive imagery, engineered to test his faith.
5 January 2001 - PET SHOP
I got scared last night when my boss locked me in the exotic pet shop overnight. It wouldn't have been so bad, but he also activated the intruder deterrent, which basically consists of releasing a couple of hallucinating Mexicans into the store.
I spent all night avoiding them, after they mistook me for a psychedelic manifestation of Darth Vader's inner angst. At one point, I hid in the puppy cage, and thought one of the Mexicans had kissed me. Luckily, it turned out to be just a little dog.
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