Aconitum Napellus

Bad Influence

The rest of the work day went by fairly fast, at least relatively. Considering that his shifts never consisted of cooking, they usually went by painfully slow, but, apparently, making a new friend makes days go by considerably quicker. The majority of the day was spent speaking with Razz or, more specifically, griping about the techniques of the so-called "professional cooks" working in the kitchen. They had found a dirty corner of the kitchen were they wouldn't get in the way but could still see everything.

"Ew. Look at the way that he stirred that batter!" Razz huffed, gesturing towards a nearby cook. "So clumsy. I'll bet that it's super lumpy."

Blue snickered and nodded in agreement. "Do you think he even mixed in the egg completely?"

"No way." Razz snorted. "He didn't even wash his hands. Disgusting."

"Wait, really?" He gasped.

"Um, hell yeah! Apparently humans haven't heard of hygiene." He frowned and slid down the wall he was leaning against. "I thought it was universal."

"Gross." Blue cringed. "And they keep us out of the kitchen?"

Suddenly, the other perked up, a devious smile spreading across his face. "We should report him to HR."

Bristling, Blue shook his head wildly. "No! He'll lose his job!"

"So?" Razz retorted. "He's probably spreading disease to all the customers. Isn't it our 'duty' or whatever to report him?"

"No, Razz! That's awful!"

The other chuckled softly, arms crossed. "You're no fun. I guess you're right, though. It's a pretty bad idea." Anger flared in his eyes. "We'd probably lose our jobs, and he'd get promoted."

With a frown, Blue watched as said cook fumbled around the kitchen, nearly spilling another cook's stir fry. He could do better than that in a heartbeat if they would just give him a chance. Yet, here he was, watching the cook of century burn his cake as Blue sat in the corner pouting and making fun of him.

"You know what? You're right. Let's get him fired," Blue mumbled, drawing out a shocked noise from the other.

For a moment, Razz just stared at him, eye sockets wide, and then he broke into an indescribably wide smile. "Maybe you're more fun than I thought."

"So, do we go report him to HR, then?" Blue asked. He was shockingly excited to do something so devious. To give the cook what he deserved. Maybe he or Razz would finally get a chance once he was gone.

Razz snorted, placing a hand on the smaller skeleton's shoulder. "Absolutely not. We just went over that, remember? Bad idea!" He used his free hand to stroke his chin in an exaggeratedly devilish way. "No, no, what we'll do will be a much surer method of getting him fired, and no one will ever know that it was us." A pause. "If we do it right, that is."

"What are you planning?" Blue leaned closer, intrigued and terrified.

"What I'm planning, dear Blue, is indisputably genius and completely fitting of the Malicious Sans. He won't know what hit him."

"Okay, 'Malicious Sans', do you want to tell me or leave me waiting in suspense?"

Razz's face flushed, and he frowned. "Uh, yes. I'll tell you."

Blue snickered softly. "Go for it."

"So, it's simple, really," Razz began. "All we need to do is steal some things from his station and then wait until he gets accused of it. He'll for sure get fired for that." He gave a sly smile. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy."

The other pondered for a moment before responding. "I don't know, Razz. That sounds more like stressed depressed lemon zest," he said with a laugh. "Wouldn't they know that we're the ones stealing his stuff?"