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Surviving on Short Notice
chapter 7
by
deleted_user
*By Sneakyk
Your heart pounds as the enormous convenience store worker examines your tiny body, the occasional shifts of her fingertips threatening to pulverize you into a stain, but never quite managing to crush you. After a brief, agonizing moment of uncertainty, the woman's eyes widen and her lips curl ever so slightly. "Ahhhh" her warm breath washes over you as her voice booms, the scents of mint, grape, and strawberry bubblegum washing over you in a wave of scent, heat, and sound that leaves you momentarily stunned. The world quickly fades into a nauseating blur as the woman stomps off to another part of the store, her shoes pounding massive, echoing clops as she walks. THWOP. THWOP. THWOP.
Without warning or explanation, the woman sets you down on a metal shelf, right between two warehouse-sized boxes. Before you can even attempt to discern why, the gigantic woman disappears from your field of vision. She is not gone for long. She returns with a strip of tape in hand and reaches for one of the nearby boxes. You watch as she applies the strip of tape to the box, and you're left to wonder what exactly she's doing. Did she decide to just set you down and leave you while she resumed her shift? Will she be taking you elsewhere? As you contemplate this, the woman's motions cause the box to lurch to the side, knocking you over.
Before you can get up, her fingers reach for you once more. You let out a tiny yelp and back away, only for a single finger to press down on you, and another to meet it. You find yourself brought up into the air before the woman's face once more. A wall of white immediately closes around you, and you find yourself overwhelmed by a powerful clinical aroma. You grunt as an overwhelming force is applied around your entire body, and you fear that at any moment this force might crush you into a stain. What on earth is she doing? You fear that you might get crushed at any moment.
Yet you do not get crushed. Instead, you are freed from your white prison and brought before the box...where a half-stuck strip of tape lies in wait, almost like a predator ready to strike. You let out a little squeak as you are brought over to the tape. You struggle mightily(or, rather, as best as you can) but it is not a battle you are equipped to win. In one swift, fluid motion, the woman holds you against the box and lays the strip of tape over you as if she were laying a child to bed. The strip immediately conforms around your body, pinning your arms, legs, and torso to the box. The woman mashes her finger over you in a forceful motion akin to a full-body tackle as she inspects her handiwork. She nods and walks off without another word, her footsteps echoing all around you.
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Peggy examined the little thing, her thoughts gradually shifting into place until at last something clicked. She let out a faint sigh as the truth came to her, and she felt the slightest surge of satisfaction as she came to her realization. What she was holding was indeed a toy, and it did indeed belong to the store, but it was not one that would be sold on its own.
She swiftly strode her way towards another set of shelves and came to a stop. Before her was a wall of diaper boxes of varying brands and sizes, most bearing a picture of a baby or toddler of some description wearing the garment. Many of the boxes had a tiny toy affixed to the front of it. Cheap toys, likely costing less than a dollar, that were bought in bulk at a discounted rate. She had slapped dozens of these things thoughtlessly onto the boxes, one after another, but seldom stopped to dwell on one of the cheap, insignificant toys she had handled. Though her recollection of it is vague, she knew - or at least thought she knew- that she slapped at least one of these things onto a diaper box.
The problem, as she had come to find out, is that toddlers, children, and even some mischievous teens had a tendency to rip the toys off of the boxes and claim them for their own without paying for them, a marginal loss, but an annoyance all the same. Thankfully this one didn't make it out of the door. She set the toy down on a shelf, got out a strip of tape, and laid the tape half onto the box. Knowing that there was a very significant chance that this toy would wind up inside a toddler's mouth, she got out a wet wipe and thoroughly scrubbed the toy clean. Satisfied with her cleaning effort, she carefully laid the toy against the diaper box, positioning it almost comically over the diapered backside of a picture of a crawling baby. She giggled at the sight... it almost appeared as if the baby was a gargantuan steed, one the doll had appropriated into a weapon of war. Still chuckling, she patted the toy down against the box. For a brief moment, she could swear she heard noise coming from it but chalked it up to the music she was listening to. She got up and turned away, getting back to restocking other shelves.
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And so it is that you find yourself in a most awkward position. You are now being held prisoner by the unwitting staff of a convenience store, who mistook you for a simple commodity to be bought and sold. The tape holding your body in place is more restraining than a straightjacket. You cannot so much as twitch. The best you can do is speak, turn your head, and breathe, and those breaths are labored. You are not sure what you are affixed to...but whatever it is, you are stuck here for the time being.