Fear and Loathing in Hot Topic Your Own Shrinkray Adventure chapter 7 by zikade

Surrounded by towering racks of overpriced clothing as you were, you felt certain that neither woman could notice your tiny form against the black carpet in the dimly-lit store; still, the way the carpet is shaking just from the beat of the nu-metal music blaring through the speakers is enough to send chills down your spine. Well, you reasoned, you wanted some excitement, you certainly got it.

Just as your poke your head out from under the hoodies and start to walk into the aisle, you feel enormous tremors begin to shake your very bones. Looking up, you feel your jaw go slack as the nerdy customer approaches the cash register, her chunky boots feeling like the footfalls of a ferocious dinosaur. When the customer finally comes to a stop, you take the opportunity to dash towards the towering cliff that made up the cash register. You can hear a squeaky voice ask a question about the size of whatever garment she held in her hands, followed by a lethargic response that you could only assume belonged to the cashier. The swinging door that led to the employee side of the cash register was no barrier to your shrunken form, and you soon found yourself protected from the prowling feet of random customers. Still, you know that you aren’t in the clear, as the cashier’s feet, clad in worn-out and scuffed Converse sneakers, idly kick at the wooden wall on her side of the register. In fact, you can see an area of bare wood near the floor from where the toe of her shoe had rubbed off the paint over the span of many boring shifts. It was precisely to get away from this sort of monotony that you went into the whole crypto shindig to begin with. The cashier finally plants her feet flat on the ground, and you see her pale hand descend from the sky. You’re briefly worried that she had noticed you, but instead, she grabs the scanner gun from where it had fallen and places it on the top of the desk.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you look around the back of the register. The cashier’s sneakers were idle for the moment, and, craning your eyes, you can see that she’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans. A shiny chain is dangling from her pocket; you had thought that chain wallets went out of style a long time ago. Next to her feet, you can see a backpack that had fallen over onto its side. Covered in numerous pins advertising heavy metal bands, it left no doubt as to who owned it. It was unzipped, but you could only see darkness inside the bag. Underneath the register, a wastebasket sits overflowing with candy wrappers and coffee cups. There’s really nothing in there for you to use, and the stacks of extra register tape and other retail accouterments don’t really hold your attention, either. However, your eyes do fall upon the cash lockbox, filled with bills larger than your own body. Getting anything out of there would be a real heist, and, anyway, what would you do with a Jackson the size of a house? Nevermind all that, you came here for an adventure. The way you see it, you could start climbing the cashier’s body, while she’s distracted helping the customer. You could easily be swatted away like the flies hovering around the trash can, though, so perhaps it might be better to stow away aboard her backpack and commence your exploration in a quieter locale. But you better make a choice, before a choice is made for you.