FSE

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If there was one thing that Zack hated doing, it was training new people to work under him, especially when those same people might end up stealing his job away from him someday.

Zack wasn't the type of doberman to let his work get the better of him, and he had a great work ethic, all told, but he preferred to dedicate his passion and energy to other things in his life, and he could only give 100% to the bar...nothing more, nothing less.

He gave about half of that same effort, to Goku, who was following him around like a lost puppy, refusing to stray too far from its mother.

"Okay...you've got most of the drinks down, you know when the bathroom cleaning rotation takes effect, you're plenty good at greeting customers...I think you'll definitely be ready to start tomorrow," Zack carried on, his voice sounding entirely droll. He was the manager of a small, hole-in-the-wall bar that was legendary for being the best dive that you could ever hope to drink at, but they put as much emphasis on being a dive as they could get away with.

The drinks were cheap, but were made with cheap alcohol to justify the same. The chairs and stools were all well past their prime, and setting a drink on a table was almost a surefire way to end up having it spilled, as all of the tables sat on rickety and uneven legs. The bathrooms were a mess, and cleaning them meant little more than running through a can of air freshener and giving a quick spritz.

It was a pit, and Zack only kept his job there as a manager because he was paid well above what he deserved, and the work was too easy for him to complain about.

"The last thing we need to train you on is food service...y'know, if this stuff can even be called food. We're kind of a junk food bar, so if it isn't pizza, we don't serve it, unless it can be deep fried somehow."

Goku gave a quick nod. He tried to seem attentive to the doberman who would soon be his boss, and it didn't hurt that Zack was literally the vision of balanced perfection. He had a body that spoke to years of effort in the gym, padded on with tight, lean muscle, but he managed to keep it all in a slim frame. He was the kind of guy who looked strong enough to pin you down, and at the end of the day, he could actually do it, too.

His dreamy physicality made it hard for Goku to focus properly, but he did the best that he could with it. He ended up seeming overly eager, and Zack rolled his eyes as he led the fox back into the kitchen.

"We've got a large pizza oven back here. You just toss the pizza into the oven and close the door, keep an eye on it, it'll be done within ten minutes. The rest of the stuff sits in the freezer until we need it, and whatever it is, you drop it in the deep fryer and let it sit for as long as it says on the little spreadsheet."

Guidelines hung above the vats of oil with how long the food should be cooked, and at what temperature. It really was the kind of job that Goku was sure that he couldn't mess up, but Zack would be looking for any crack in the vulpine's armor, hoping to find some kind of a weakness that he could exploit for his own twisted desires.

After all, Zack was enjoying looking at Goku as much as the opposite was true, and the only thing more important than making sure that Goku was properly trained was for Zack to establish his dominance; his authority in the bar was not to be questioned.

"Basically, if you don't screw up too many times, you won't get fired. The boss doesn't care if you drink during your shift as long as you don't get drunk, and personally, I don't really care if you do either, so long as you can do your job and fill orders accurately. If that isn't too much for you, then welcome aboard."

Goku wasn't so desperate for work that he was going to seem too grateful, but he put on a bright, wide smile and offered a paw to Zack all the same. His Mohawk gave a gentle bounce as he nodded again, acting a bit too eager for his own good.

In the back of his mind, Zack was already thinking of ways to knock the fox down a peg.

"Do I have to stay until close tonight?" Goku asked, as he looked back out from the kitchen. The bar was mostly empty, save for a few regulars, and those who were present were barely conscious, having consumed their way into oblivion.

The question played right into Zack's paws, as he gave a quick and sharp nod. "Oh, definitely. You always need to have at least two employees present in the building when you close. You never know what kind of stragglers might be hanging around, looking to rob the place and make a quick buck."

Goku tried to ignore his nerves at the thought, but Zack was grinning the whole time that he spoke, taking away from the sincerity of his statement, just slightly. "Has that ever happened to you?"

"No, but I don't think it's worth the risk," he suggested. "Besides, I'll cut you in on the tips tonight if you stay here and help me shut the place down. I know you're only supposed to get paid the base rate for these few hours, but I'm damn tired of cleaning all of these dirty drink and snack machines...think you could give me a hand?"

Somehow, despite the fact that the bar was always somewhat empty, the tip jar always seemed to be full, something that Goku took notice of even before he applied to work there. It was a hard phenomenon to explain, but if he was going to get cut in on the profits, he wasn't going to question it.

"Y-yeah, sure. I suppose I can do that," Goku replied, figuring that he didn't have any other plans for the evening, and though he'd wanted to be home a little bit earlier, there was a good chunk of money to be had for what he figured to be a very short amount of work.

He didn't realize that he'd have to clean off all of the soda dispensers in the kitchen, and clean up the machine that dispensed the bright, fluorescent yellow cheese mix that siphoned out of a machine and was put on everything from pretzels to nachos.

"...On second thought," he paused, as he looked over the machine, "Do you really need the help? I mean, I think you've got this covered, and-

"You want the job or not?" Zack cut him off. The doberman was intelligent enough to track Goku's eyes to the cheese dispenser, and he made the quick connection, all revealed by a telltale smirk. "I'll take care of the bar and wipe down all the counters and tables out there, but if you want this job, you'd better get to work on that dispenser."

It was a bleak offer, at best, but it was one that Goku was having a hard time turning down. He wasn't so desperate for the money that he was selling himself on the streets, but there was something plenty degrading about being forced to clean a machine that he already detested, and he didn't relish in the thought of explaining to Zack his dislike of the substance.

That didn't mean that Zack wasn't already picking up on the same, however, and it was hard for the devious canine to keep his grin hidden when Goku finally nodded.

"And this thing isn't that difficult to clean?"

"Nah, it's easy. You remove the front panel, the bag of nasty cheese comes out easily, and you detach the hose. You just have to make sure to hold it upright, or else the excess will spill from the detached end, and you'll have to wipe up the floor and the counters, too."

Zack was already making his way out of the kitchen with a rag as Goku stared down the machine. The front panel was easy enough to open, and it came undone with a satisfying click, but the bag was fairly intimidating to Goku; he was expecting it to be empty, for the most part.

Instead, it was bulging with unused excess from the day, and the idea of walking it over to the large, industrial fridge wasn't a pleasant thought.

"S-so...I just pull this..." he murmured to himself, as his paws cradled the heavy, heated plastic of the bag, "And lift the hose out of the dispenser..."

It wasn't entirely clear what kind of a person Zack was. He seemed gruff, but honest, at the very least. It left Goku trusting in the doberman, that his task really would be as easy as it sounded.

Zack tried to put on a frustrated face, but he knew exactly what was coming, as processed cheese poured from the hose at the end of the bag and began to spray all across Goku's chest, soaking his shirt in the mess and leaving greasy stains behind as it quickly traveled down his body.

"Awwww, sonofabitch!" he yelled out, finding that even as he tipped the hose up, the mess continued to pour out and trickle over his paw. He tried to make a tight fist and constrict the flow, but until he set the bag on the counter, below the hose, there was no stopping the mess. Globs of the thick, orange food product spilled across the counter and down the front of his jeans as Zack came rushing back in, trying to look even a little surprised by what he saw.

Crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head, Zack wasn't in any kind of hurry to help Goku, who was struggling to keep a grip on the bag with his pawtips covered in tasty, greasy cheese. "I guess you have a problem listening to direct orders," Zack suggested, as he watched the hose continuing to slip. He was just praying that the bag would slip down to the floor and give him an excuse to close the kitchen off for the rest of the night.

Goku was doing everything that he could to avoid such a fate, believing that this could be a fantastic job for him to hold down, but one of his claws was already pressing into the side of the heavy, stuffed bag.

It was only a matter of moments, and Zack was quietly hoping for it, as Goku trembled with frustration and fear at the same.

"I told you that you have to keep the hose up," Zack reminded him, knowing that Goku likely followed the order in the first place. "But, it seems that you didn't want to listen, and now, I've gotta shut the kitchen down...can't have customers eating this stuff if you end up getting your fur in it."

Rolling his eyes and flushing with warmth under his cheeks, Goku tried to ignore the nearly burning sensation upon his forearms as he cradled the bag, wishing that he had another place to put it. "Is it really that big of a deal?"

"Pretty big, I'm afraid," Zack replied casually. His next move was anything but, as he marched out of the kitchen and yelled out to the few patrons, "The kitchen's closed! If you want food tonight, go get it somewhere else!"

Tall, long ears went flat against Goku's head as he tried to shrink down behind the counter. The moment was already humiliating, and Zack was only making it worse as he returned and towered over the poor, embarrassed fox.

"You just cost the bar a good amount of money, Goku. You got any idea how many tips I just lost because of you?"

"I...I d-don't think t-that many," Goku tried to keep his composure as he replied and forced a nervous smile.

Zack narrowed his eyes and brandished the claws on one paw, but he didn't seem to consider Goku the target.

"More than you can know, trainee. That's strike one...and we don't do three strikes around here."