Lights, Camera, Action, or A Mix Thereof.

The next morning, when Gerard arrived at work exactly five minutes late, he was informed that there was an emergency meeting for all employees in the conference room. He groaned but followed the rest of the blue clad army. He hated meetings, especially since their manager was a pompous, self-centered, overly wordy douchebag. The last meeting they had had was literally just hiim rambling about everything good he had done for the store before telling them that they would be losing five percent of their pay because he wanted to see if they'd riot.

So, it was understandable that he was a little surprised when he entered the conference room to see someone who was definitely not their manager standing at the top of the table. He was very tall and very skinny with wild black hair that stuck out in every direction. He was wearing a suit jacket that had the arms ripped off and no shirt underneath. He was flanked by two men on either side, all with their arms crossed over their chests and sunglasses on their eyes.

"Everyone, shut the fuck up," the middle man said, immediately silencing the room. Gerard could already tell that this man, whoever the hell he was, was a lot different than their last manager. Once everyone had shut up, he smiled widely at them, rubbing his hands together.

"Alright then. I am James Sullivan but please, for the love of God, call me Jimmy. I'm your new manager, as of right now."

"What happened to Mr. Ross?" someone asked.

"Mr. Ross was fired for having sex in the rafters with Mr. Urie, the former janitor. I say former because he was also fired. Anyways, I would like to introduce you to these men." He gestured to the men on his left.

"These are Matt and Brian, the new security guards. And on my right are Zacky, the new janitor and Johnny."

"What does Johnny do?" another employee asked.

"He cleans... something else." Gerard leaned back in his chair and studied the men who were now in charge. They were littered with tattoos and both of the security guards looked like they could break a man in half with their bare hands. They were, needless to say, very different than any boss he had ever had. He was distracted from his reverie by something brushing against his thigh. He sat upright, digging his nails into the arm rest of the chair. Trying to not look completely conspicuous, he glanced under the table and was met with Frank's mop of hair.

"Frank, what the hell?" he hissed, tapping him with his foot.

"Good morning to you too," Frank mumbled, yawning slightly. He was still wearing Gerard's sweater. "Now, be quiet. Can't have you getting fired too, can we?" He started inching his hand towards Gerard's crotch, giggling as he did so.

"... and we also have a new employee! I have no idea who hired him, but please welcome Frank!"

"That's me!" Frank climbed up Gerard's lap and onto the table, hands posed on his hips.

"Hi everyone!" he yelled, ignoring the numerous dirty looks he was receiving. He jumped back off and sat on Gerard's lap, holding back more laughter when he heard Gerard faintly moan. There was something oddly stiff poking him in the back.

"Alright, since there's nothing else, go sell some stuff!" Jimmy said.

"Hehe, he was a lisp," someone giggled. He wasn't laughing for long.

"Matt! Brian!" Jimmy screeched, pointing towards the offender, who was a small, meek man with a face like a mouse. The two men easily picked him up and carted him out the door. His screams were cut off seconds after the door shut behind them.

"C'mon Gee, it's time to go to work!" Frank chirped, zooming out the door. Gerard sighed and sat his head on the table, feeling the beginnings of a migraine coming on.

"He works here," he groaned. "Why the fuck does he have to work here?"

****************************************************************************

Meanwhile, in the manager's office, the men were getting used to their new jobs. The office was more like a small apartment than a place to work. It was equipped with a massive flat screen television, a set of bunk beds, a mini fridge and, of course, a sturdy desk for Jimmy to 'work' at. It was covered with food wrappers and it wasn't even nine thirty.

"Dude, this place is sweet," Johnny squealed, sticking his head in the mini fridge.

"Oh yeah, totally pimped out," Zacky agreed. "I mean, look at this! We never have to leave!"

"Are any of the security cameras still working?" Brian asked. Both his and Matt's knuckles were covered in blood but they didn't seem to notice or care.

"Not exactly. If we're not watching movies or playing video games, then we'll be able to see what's going on. But since I doubt that'll ever happen... then no."

"You know what the best part of this job is?" Johnny added, already sipping a beer. "I get a nametag." Stepping forward, Matt leaned down so that he could see the clear tag Johnny had proudly stuck to his chest.

"Hi, I'm Johnny, how may I blow you today? Very appropriate," he commented, receiving a smack from Johnny.

"Now, let's start doing as little as possible!" Jimmy yelled, downing an energy drink in no more than three seconds. Brian and Matt immediately claimed the couch, starting up the latest Call of Duty.

"It's party time!"