"So where are we going?" Sam asks Lust, who skips happily along next to her down the street.
"Well, see, it's like this. We noticed you've had trouble getting a job recently, and we wanted to help you." They begin.
"We being me. I'm the one who noticed, and also the only one who cares whether or not you are currently employed." Greed chirps.
"We knew." Lust says. "You're just the only one who's particularly bothered because you were going through her sock drawer trying to steal cash."
"Why I noticed is," Greed pauses a moment and holds up a hand to stop any comment from Lust. "Irrelevant. Irrelevant. Anyhow, to answer your question, Sam, we're going to the Denny's!"
"We're going to the Denny's?" Sam says. Then she sighs and turns around. "Who am I kidding? Of course, we're going to the Denny's. It's like I forget that you're the literal embodiments of the seven deadly sins."
"Sweetie, you've got to be joking. Denny's is the best." Lust says. "It's open 24/7 and, like, have you ever had any of their signature slams?"
"Have you? Last I checked, you didn't eat food."
"What do you have against Denny's?"
"Denny's blurs the lines between what is real and what isn't. It's weird and scary, and I don't like it."
"A job at Denny's is better than no job at all." Greed points out.
"Is it, though?" Sam asks. "Besides, even if I were to go to the Denny's asking for a job, who says they would hire me?"
"We do."
"What you say means absolutely nothing to Denny's."
"We may have connections at the Denny's." Lust says.
"Of course you do." Says Sam, sitting down on the nearest bench and burying her face in her hands. Of course, you have connections at the Denny's."
"Yeah, and we should. Go. To. The. Denny's."
"Okay," Sam says, standing up. "We're going to the Denny's."
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"And this had all the makings of a good day." Benny Larson says when they turn around to see two of their former roommates in Denny's kitchen. "Nobody's soul has been absorbed into the building yet today, I haven't had to replace the time-stabilizers yet this month, and all of my current employees are still sane. And yet here are you two to ruin that streak of not terrible things happening. So, what do you two want? In the way of money and sex, of course."
"Okay, so firstly that was really mean-," Greed begins, only to be cut off by Benny.
"Has your voice gotten more nasal? Maybe I've just tried to bury the abstract and annoying horror that living with the seven of you for those three months was so much that I'm forgetting minor details, but I feel like your voice has gotten more nasal."
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"Have you always been this much of an asshat?" Lust snaps back immediately. "Oh wait, I know the answer to that one. It's yes. Yes, you have."
Greed shushes them before saying, "Alright, so listen. I know we started off on the wrong foot, but, hey, we have a new roommate,"
"I pity that poor soul even more than I pity the ones who can't figure out the way out of the vents here even though we removed all of the covers."
"And she's agreed to be our human. So her safety and mental and stability is our safety and mental stability. But there's another type of stability that I didn't just mention. It's financial. The type of stability I'm talking about is financial stability."
"I"m not going to loan anyone stupid enough to agree to be your human money."
"And we aren't asking you to!" Greed clarifies quickly.
"What are you asking me to do then?"
"Sam needs a job." Lust says, checking their nails with as bored an expression as they can muster on their face.
"I don't need anyone else to help out." Benny insists, waving them off pointlessly.
"Even with as high as turnover rate as this place surely has?" Greed asks pointedly.
Benny runs a hand through their hair. "Fine." They say. "But she has to work night shifts because nobody else wants to. And they have to come in still, just so I can see them."
"Deal!" Greed says, and then he's gone, grabbing Lust and dragging them through the wall behind them so quickly that they can't react immediately and end up just slamming full force into it for a second.
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"Where did you go?" Sam asks when Lust and Greed reappear beside her.
"To talk to our connections at the Denny's." Lust says. They're noticeably more sour-sounding than they were before, and they have their arms crossed over their chest and head held high in a way that suggests that screams "I'm pouting but trying to pretend that I'm not."
"You've got the job." Lust says.
"Already?" Sam asks skeptically. "How did you pull that off?"
"We know the manager," says Greed. "and technically all you have to have to get a job at Denny's is a connection with or firm disbelief of the supernatural. Plus they don't really have paperwork. Names of employees are just inked in glitter sharpie under the table closest to the manager's heart at the moment. Trust me. Our last roommate - who is our entire list of connections, by the way - talked about it a lot when they lived with us."
"Alllllright then, I guess."
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"So, this is the kid?" Asks Benny as soon as Sam and her sinful posse walk into the Denny's. What immediately hits Sam is the terrible Boston accent they've chosen to take on. "She's shorter than I expected."
"Hello, uh-,"
"Larson, Benny. You can call me either, I gave up on getting anyone to call me any sort of title of respect years ago. What's your full name, kid?"
"Samantha McKinney," Sam says.
Larson checks the bottom of a nearby table. "Yep, there you are. Mr. Averice over there called you Sam. Is that what you prefer, or was he just being a dick like usual?"
"Uh, yeah, Sam is good."
"Great. I made you a schedule while I waited for you to show up." Benny says, handing her a piece of paper. "You had better be here. Well, that's all I'll be needing you for, at least for today. Show up, don't get your soul absorbed into the others that are trapped in the ceiling, and you'll do great, kid. That's all I need you for right now, because this isn't technically a business, and the building is only visible to most people at 3 in the morning."
Sam makes a move to leave, and Benny grabs her arm for just a second.
"And, hey, Sam?" They say. They've dropped the accent, and there's something about their voice that seems softer, less forcefully sharp.
"Yeah?" Sam asks.
"I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into in that apartment of yours. Not yet, anyway. I don't mean that as an insult, I swear! It's hard to tell what's going on at first. But once you realize, if you need someone to talk to, just call me, okay?"
Sam nods. "Okay."
"Well. I'll see you tonight because I don't take breaks. My essence is tied to this building."
"See you tonight," Sam says, then she's out the door.