I had been working at the assembly station for 3 hours when I lost my last shred of rationality.

We have been 3 orders behind for the past 30 minutes now because our newest employee Charles can’t figure out how to cook more than three burgers at once, not to mention doing bacon. Our supervisor, Carl, has been unhelpfully pacing ever since the rush started and still hasn’t figured out that he should jump in.

“How much longer on order 36?” Amy asked from the register.

“Still haven’t gotten my double bacon cheeseburger from assembly!” our bagger shouted back.

“Dave, how long til you finish that burger? '' Carl asked while hovering behind my back.

I’m sorry to say that I snapped.

“I don’t know, Carl, Why don’t you ask the guy that’s struggling to cook burgers?! Or better yet, why don’t you help him?”

Everyone froze. Nobody talks to Carl like that unless they want to see his face turn purple. But I had had enough. Poor Charles was in his first week still and was struggling to stay on top during rush hour. I did my best to help, but there was only so much I could do when the supervisors kept putting him on the hardest stations simply because no one else wanted to do the work.

Carl grabbed my shoulder and spun until we were face to face.

"What did you say to me you little punk?! I didn't ask what Charles was doing, I ask you how long until you were finished! And another thing, don't tell me how to do my job! I'm in charge and you do what I say!"

Already regretting my decision, I decided to just go wrap our little chat with a "yes, sir" and tried to turn back around to wait for my bacon and burgers. Charles got me the burgers and we finished up the rush.

Carl was quite purple for the last hour of my shift and refused to be anywhere near me. If I wasn’t such a good employee, I’m sure that outburst would have gotten me fired then and there. I apologized to Charles the first chance I had and had him switch stations to give him a break, but the damage was done. Walking home I knew I had ruined my relationship with Charles and probably gotten myself a “Talk” with the boss come Monday.

My mind drifted as I drove home. I had been at Quiggley’s Burgers and Fries for about five years now, but I think that it wouldn’t be much longer before it completely sucked the life out of me. I was planning on leaving the job once I started my first year of culinary school at my mom’s university. Based on how Monday went, I may end up having to leave sooner. I smacked my forehead on the steering wheel once I got to the streetlight. I was two months away from fall semester. Maybe I could take this large amount of free time and start studying ahead of time. I had already been accepted so I didn’t need to do much else as a way of preparation.

Making it back to the house, I make sure to bang my head against the door a couple times to really let the sheer stupidity of my actions sink in. After having finished that ritual, I put the key into the door and make my way into the apartment I share with my parents.

Knowing I don’t have the mental energy to make a complicated meal for dinner, but still needing to do something to destress, I decide to pull out the chicken breasts, onions, and peppers from the fridge once I make it into the kitchen and start working on making some basic fajitas.

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I pull out a knife, mallet, and cutting board, then start cutting the onions and peppers into strips. Once those are done and put into a bowl by the stove, I pull out a ziploc bag, put the chicken in, and start flattening so that when I grill them, I can get an even cook time and won’t have to worry about one part being over cooked and the other just right.

Once the chicken is sufficiently flattened, I grab some chili powder, ground cumin, oregano, smoked paprika(always better than normal paprika in my opinion), garlic powder, and some good old basic salt and pepper. Mix them in a small bowl. I put the mixture into the bag of flattened chicken and gave it a good shake.

After that I pull out a decent size skillet and get set over a high flame. I want the pan scorching hot so the chicken sears on the outside and holds in all the good juices. Don't want dry fajitas. While the pan is heating I start a small pot of white rice with some water and chicken broth. Since it’s fajitas I don’t want to make anything overly complicated.

Once the pan is hot, I throw a bit of oil on and start searing the chicken. Since I flattened the breast, it only takes about 3-4 minutes on each side to completely cook the chicken. Once they are done I place them back on the cutting board and throw in the veggies next. By then the rice is boiling so I take the lid off and bring the flame under the pot down to low to let the rice simmer. Too many times letting the rice boil over or burn the bottom of the pot has taught me to take my time with it.

While the veggies are caramelizing over medium heat, I start slicing the chicken into strips and get ready to throw them back into the pan. I’m working on the second chicken when my Dad opens the front door.

“Smells good as always. What are we having tonight chef?”

“You know I'm not a chef, pop. Just making Fajitas,” I shout back. I throw the chicken back into the skillet and take the rice off the heat. All that's left is heating some tortillas then we would have an easy 15 minute dinner all set up and ready to go.

“I’m sure they will taste just as good as everything else You make buddy,” He replies as he makes his way over the cupboard. “I’m going to set the table, your mother is going to be home late tonight so just put her portion in a container. She is behind on grading today's tests.”

“Alright.”

I set aside some of the food in a container and place it in the fridge. Then toss my pop some hot pads for the table and bring everything over.

I dig in immediately and try to rush through the meal to hopefully avoid conversation, but my dad wasn’t having any of it.

“So… how was Quiggley’s?” he starts.

“Fine.” I try to be as concise as possible.

“That bad huh? So, what did you do? Get the new guy in trouble?”

“... No, but I probably won’t have a job come monday. I snapped at one of the supervisors.”

My dad’s sigh stings quite a bit, but, luckily, he doesn’t push. We finish up the meal and I head straight to my room once he says he’ll take care of dishes.

I head straight to bed and try to sleep. I turned off my alarm since I didn’t have work anyway but can’t sleep for the life of me.

My mom shows up outside my door about an hour into my restless tossing and turning.

“Hey honey, I heard that the job was a little rough today. Do you want to talk about it?” she asks quietly.

I hesitate. She is usually very demanding that I give her an immediate life lesson about my mistakes. She must have had a long day and just wanted to sleep.

“Nah, I’m good. Think I’ll just sleep on it.”

“... Alright. Just know that me and your father are here if you ever do want to talk about it. Have a good night.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Love you.” I give a terse reply.

“Love you too.”

I toss and turn a few more minutes, before finally succumbing to the dream realm.

…

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..System Requirements Met…

...Scanning Homeworld…

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… Insufficient Mana Levels…

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... System Host will be transported to Nearest Homeworld that meets basic requirements…

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Prepare for teleportation in 3..2..1...transport.