Refund, please. ch. 7, by Swegi Gonbup, Gonbup Production©2023

Chapter 7 Mr. Help

     As the boss, he was now in a position to help the employees that worked for him.  He felt like a superhero.

     It was easy to be outgoing with his workers.  He owned 3884.  Liam, 22, White, made Tommy laugh.  He seemed like an unpolished comedian.  The jokes just rolled out.  Funny as fuck, too.  Noah was easy to recognize as a gigolo.  Noah had perfect blonde hair, and it was hard to tell his ethnicity from one day to the next.  He talked about finally getting a GED.  Oliver, the old White dude, as he was referred to, was funny acting.  He could pass for a teenager, but he was 30 years old.  Elijah, Spanish, was an 18 year old book worm.  He was a lady killer at Barnes and Noble.  He didn't think I knew how he stalked me.  Nosey little sissy. He will answer for any ransomware attacks.  James had a perfect job to complement his ebony, MMA physique.  At 29, he was beginning to sway away from looking for a career in MMA.  William was 49, but he looked like he was 20.  Must be the curry.  He had a dirty Pakistani accent.  Benjamin, white, was a punk.  Nobody knew his real hair color.  He was 23, the go-to for the weirdos.  Lucas, Spanish, wanted to own a McDonald's one day.  He'd swear by it.  At 22, he had time to work towards that goal.  Good job, kid.  Henry was a smart ass, punk, white.  A 30 year old that spealized in emotional turmoil.  Then, we also had Theodore.  He was 21, Black, and he already had an MBA.  Congratulations, youngster.  If we opened another location, he was training to be the next boss.

     Tommy noticed one of his employees, Marco, 23, Spanish, wasn't his usual self lately. Marco had been with the company for two years, and he was one of the best performers. Now, his work was slipping. He missed appointments, and when he did show up, he wasn't as enthusiastic as he used to be. Tommy pulled him aside one day and asked him what was going on. "No worries," he said.

     Tommy decided to take action and have Marco followed home. He hired a private investigator to keep an eye on him and gather any useful information. After a few days of surveillance, the PI reported back to Tommy with Marco's address, which turned out to be in a sketchy part of town in some adult-only apartments on the southwest side of town. 

     Tommy took the reigns.  He used his 2017, Blacked out, Ford Mustang, GT. Inconspicuous, right.  He waited.  Marco got on schedule.  Tommy got in step.  At the apartments, he had to park illegally.  It was late, though, no issues.  Marco sat in the car for awhile, then he went home. Tommy was curious about what Marco was doing in his car for an hour before going to his apartment. He decided to send someone to keep an eye on Marco from a distance to find out what he was up to. After a few days of monitoring, the mystery was solved.  Marco was on fentanyl.  Like eight glasses of water a day.  His money wasn't suffering, though.  As a boss, Tommy knew that an influencer can lead the flock astray.  "This fentanyl shit needs to go away. Make this kid understand that he's great but that shit will destroy him", said Tommy.  "Yes sir, boss.  We got this," said the company maintenance man.

     Tommy didn't hear anymore about it.  Marco began to keep up with himself.  Then, Tommy received a call.  Marco's dad had him placed into Rehab.  He had a coworker visit him to get the details.  Tommy genuinely wanted to know if 3884 could help him.