<This is a collaborative piece done with Sham! Major thanks to my good friend for all his help.>
<https://pastebin.com/u/Sham_>

Chapter 1: What Goes Around, Comes Around

[https://youtu.be/KCDJqz6jsmw]
>You sweat profusely as you stare down at the cards in your hand.
>Let's see. A king and a 5. Not bad. But not enough to beat the dealer; you've seen this guy hit 18 with disturbing frequency tonight.
>You sigh and tell the man to hit you. He nods solemnly and deals another card.
>...it’s a fucking queen.
>”Oooh, tough luck again, sport. Looks like I'll be taking your money one more time!”
>”Yeah yeah, whatever. Just take it and deal me in again.”
>The casino worker raises an eyebrow, but does as he was told.
>You’ve been at this blackjack table allllll night. Just like last night. And the night before.
>Hell, you've been here every night for at least a week now.
>It's not that you have a problem! You just… really could use the cash. And you swear you're starting to get a feel for all this.
>This time, you get a seven and a six. 13. Definitely not enough.
>”Hit me.”
>The man nods and slides a card over. It's an ace.
>Shit, 14 won't be enough either. Better go one more…
>”Hit me.”
>”You sure about that? Alright.”
>The next card is… 
>...motherfucker.
>It's an eight.
>”Oh, so sorry! Looks like you've busted again, sir! Better luck next time!”
>”Shut your mouth, I don't need your sarcasm right now. Just… just take my damn money and deal again.”
>The weasel (literally, the man’s a weasel; these Otherworld folks will never cease to amaze you) grins wickedly.
>”Believe me, friend, I'd love to take more of your cash, but… it seems you've just hit rock bottom.”
>”The hell are you talking ab-”
>You glance over at the stack of cash you've had sitting under your elbow and, sure enough, that was the last of what you had.
>”...oh.”
>”Yyyyeah, I think you're done here, buddy.”
>You nod vacantly as you stand up. Your blood is like ice in your veins, and you feel a distinct tightness in your chest.
>That was… the last bit of money out of your savings.
>Welp. You are now, well and truly, fucked.
>M-maybe you can swipe someone else's chips if they aren't looking. The roulette table is pretty bare. If you could just find a sucker dumb enough...
>You slowly creep up on a table run by a well-dressed fox lady. She grins as the fellow playing scratches his head, thinking hard.
>”Ehhh… I dun’t know eef I want to play again…”
>”Aw, c’mon, Mister Singlair! You're on a hot stream, why let it go to waste?”
>”But… hrm.”
>Perfect. They're both distracted.
>You've got to be quick about this. In and out. Then throw it on that damned roulette table. 
>You'll surely earn at least some of your lost savings…. Right?
>You keep yourself looking straightforward as you walk down the main aisle. The chips get closer with each and every step.
>Closer.
>C l o s e r. 
>SO CLOSE. 
>You quickly let your hand glide over the edge of the table, and snag the casino chips while both the man and woman are still surveying the felted board. 
>Perfect. Fucking suckers. 
>As you walk over to another roulette table, you let a stupid grin show on your face. 
>Now it's time to get hot again. 
>”Alright buddy. Give me a Red Snake. I'm feeling pretty good about it.”
>The man running the table doesn't even bat an eye. He does frown slightly, however.
>”Sir, I can't place that bet.”
>Your mood immediately sours. The hell is this guy talking about? He couldn't have possibly seen you jack that schmuck's chips. 
>”Hey. The fuck are you talking about buddy? I want to bet on this table… Right now!”
>Your voice raises with every word. 
>”How about you let me put a Red Snake down with my chips here and we roll that ball, damnit!”
>The casino worker looks you straight in the eyes. 
>”No. Those are not your chips, sir.”
>You feel several pairs of eyes staring straight into you as you begin to break into a cold sweat. 
>”...I don't know w-what you're talking about. These are mine, b-buddy.”
>”...right. Sir, we can do this one of two ways. You can return those to their rightful owner and leave right now, never coming back… or I can get security involved.”
>Shit shit shit shit shit.
>You drop the chips and run for it, watching for security over your shoulder…
>Only to slam into something HARD, falling flat on your ass.
>You rub the base of your spine as a sharp, feline voice speaks up from above you.
>”The hell…? Oh, a runner, huh? Get your sorry ass up!”
>You sigh and slowly stand up, expecting to be face to face with a female security guard.
>...you feel your jaw drop a little when you see who's ACTUALLY talking.
>Standing a good deal taller than you, clad in a very sharp, clearly custom-fit black suit, the cat woman gives you a very unimpressed look, her pale green eyes narrowed angrily.
>Her hair is black with reddish-brown highlights, and is combed to nearly cover one eye. It's so smooth and shiny it almost looks fake…
>Your eyes travel downward a bit, then get magnetized to an absolutely staggering bust, lovingly cradled by her custom suit. You barely register the snappy bowtie a little ways above her tits.
>The woman angrily puts a hand under your chin and makes you look up at her face.
>You shudder when you feel metal instead of the soft fur and pawpads most cat Otherworlders have.
>”Eyes up here, babe. I heard someone was stealing shit from my regulars? That wouldn't be you, now, would it~?”
>Despite the obvious anger, her voice carries a bizarrely flirtatious tone that's at odds with the death grip she has on your chin.
>”U-uhh, no ma'am.”
>”Right. So, lemme get this straight. There’s one damn human in the entire casino right now, my staff told me a human stole some chips… and somehow, it wasn't you.”
>”...th-that’s right.”
>”...”
>She puts on an extremely dangerous grin.
>”...I don’t like thieves, babe. Nor liars.”
>You don’t even register her metal hand hitting you upside the temple. Just a sharp pain and everything going black. 
>...
[https://youtu.be/aLKBGayj2N4]
>You come to in a smoky, well lit office.
>The whole room is immaculate, with more modest decor than the casino outside. The only exception is the massive, wall-to-wall aquarium on one side of the room, stuffed full of exotic tropical fish. All manner of faux treasures rest on the “seabed” of the aquarium.
>You try to rub your aching head, but your hands are tied to the wooden chair you're seated in.
>On the opposite side of the huge oak desk in front of you, a plush armchair sits, swiveled to face away from you. Smoke wafts up from the other side.
>You reflexively groan in pain, and the chair’s occupant immediately spins around to face you.
>It’s the cat woman from before. Her suit is now unbuttoned a little, giving her huge chest some breathing room. In your dazed state, you swear you see something weird just below her neck.
>...looks like a-
>”Ahem. What did I tell ya earlier, slick? Eyes. Up. Here.”
>You hastily turn your attention up to her face. The woman adjusts a pair of fashionable glasses and grins devilishly, putting a cigar out in a nearby ashtray.
>”There you go. Now. You wanna explain to me what the flying fuck you think you're doing stealing from my clients and LYING about it?”
>”L-look lady. I'm sorry. I swear to God I'll-”
>She interrupts your blubbering apologies. 
>”Jesus fuck. Does it look like I give a shit if you're sorry? Did I ask if you were sorry? NO! I ASKED WHY YOU TRIED TO BE A CROOK, THEN WERE TOO FUCKING DICKLESS TO OWN UP TO IT!”
>She snorts derisively and takes a long drink from a mug of coffee, slamming it down on the table afterwards.
>You flinch at the loud sound, and notice a smug grin flit across her face for a moment.
>”...I can wait as long as you can, babe. You ain't getting out of that chair till I get my answers.”
>”...fine. I lost every cent I had to this hellhole, and I was desperate to win SOMETHING back. You and your fucking parasite brigade out there sucked my wallet dry.”
>”And your bad decisions gave you the right to try and steal shit from a regular here? You're not just an asshole; you're an ENTITLED asshole! The worst kind, in my book.”
>She takes out a cigar and lights it, eyeing you up silently for a bit. The woman takes a long drag, then blows a cloud of smoke your way with a smile.
>”Lucky for you, I know a way we can BOTH be winners here, Mister… Say, what's your name, anyhow, slick?”
>”Uhh… um…. Jeff. Jeff Brown.”
>”Well then, Mister Brown; you work for me now, jackass. And until you pay for your crimes, you're gonna KEEP working here, capisce?”
>”I-I won't step foot in here again… I swear to God and everything holy, just let me go…”
>The woman slams her mug onto her desk again. 
>”I SAID: You're gonna keep working here until I think you've satisfied the debt that you owe me and my clients. UNDERSTOOD?”
>You shakily nod in understanding. 
>As you try not to piss yourself from sheer fear, an employee walks through the door behind you, looking nervous.
>”M-Miss Penny… Mister Singlair s-said he's not coming b-back here if we're gonna have th-thieves running around.”
>Your captor, apparently named Penny, goes silent, staring at her worker with cold fury.
>”Did you tell him the situation is under control?”
>”Y-yes ma'am, but he said he's still lea-”
>Before you can even react, Penny produces a pistol with a silencer on the end of the barrel. You hear a soft “pfft” and a heavy thud behind you. 
>She glares at you coldly.
>”Did you hear that, babe? You lost me a regular. Looks like that debt of yours just got even bigger. You start your new career now. Effective. Immediately.”
>You crane your neck around and see the crumpled heap of what was just one of her employees. Penny clears her throat dangerously.
>”Whatcha looking at?”
>”N-nothing, nothing.”
>You turn back to her quickly. Your new boss nods curtly.
>”Damn right, “nothing”.”
>She stands up, pulls out a butterfly knife, and wordlessly cuts the ropes holding your hands and feet, then sits back down. You're too shocked by all this to speak.
>”Now then. Any questions?”
>...
>”Good. Now clean this shit up. The bastard’s gonna fucking stain my floor.”
>You swallow nervously and nod, shakily rising and getting ready to “clean up”...

Chapter 2: New Faces, New Places

>Your new boss doesn't even look back to you as she walks over to the door and steps past the body. As she exits the office, a burly bodyguard of some sort steps in, nodding stoically. He appears to be a fox anthro, but has two tails rather than just one. 
>”Uhhh… you heard the boss. Get to, uh, cleanin’, bud.”
>His voice is deep and intimidating, but he seems… oddly unsure of himself, tone-wise. That said, he's more than big enough to snap you in half if you don't listen.
>You sigh and get out of the chair, wincing and rubbing your aching temple.
>The dead employee lays right in the middle of the carpeted floor, a clean hole right in his forehead. You shudder reflexively.
>How fucking cold do you have to be to murder your own staff just for bringing bad news…?
>Even though you know you may lose your lunch, you've got to know what your dealing with. You need to flip the body over and make sure there's no stain on the floor, or you're gonna be the second unfortunate fucker dead in her office today. 
>After some careful maneuvering, It seems that there isn't an exit wound. At least the floor is safe. 
>You look around the room and find a hidden door in the wall to the far side of the room. There's a good bit of janitorial equipment and body bags in here.
>.....................................
>This crazy bitch is probably a serial killer. 
>You quickly drag the carcass into a spare body bag and zip it up. All the while the bodyguard looks at you with a cold stare; he occasionally breaks eye contact to glance down at the body with an unreadable expression, but quickly returns to watching you.
>Once the deed is done, you sigh and turn to the big guy.
>”Alright… now what?”
>”...uhhh… take that down to the, uh, maintenance room.”
>”Fine. Where is it?”
>His expression quickly becomes one of intense concentration.
>”Uhhh… y-you take a left, then a, uhhh, a right… oh, uh, screw it. I'll just, uh, walk you there.”
>...clearly he didn't get this job by being the best and brightest.
>But, whatever. You reluctantly grab the bag and drag it along behind you as you follow the bodyguard down some winding hallways.
>Conveniently, none of them seem to be visible from the casino floor.
>As you walk, your escort occasionally looks over his shoulder to make sure you're still following. He seems to know where he's going, at least…
>...until you hit a fork in the road. The big fella looks alarmed as he looks back and forth between the two hallways.
>”....u-uhhh. Hang on, uh, one sec.”
>He puts a hand to his chin and thinks hard for a moment, then nods, grinning.
>”Alright, let's, uh, get goin’.”
>He leads you down the right hallway, nodding.
>”What was that all about, big guy?”
>”Uhh… I don't have to, uh, go to the maintenance room much. I kinda, uh… forgot which way it was from the Boss’s office…”
>”You're about as bright as you look, huh.”
>He looks outraged, but more shocked than angry.
>”Uhhh…! M-my wife says, uh, I'm plenty bright for her, so you can, u-uhh, you can shove it up your ass!”
>”You’re MARRIED?”
>”Sure am.”
>”Well, color me impressed. Who's the lucky lady, and how long has she been blind?”
>Now he looks pissed. The fox snarls and lifts you bodily with one hand.
>”YOU DON’T TALK SHIT ABOUT MY WIFE! YOU HEAR ME?! SHE IS AN ANGEL!”
>”OKAY, OKAY, SORRY!”
>He drops you roughly, breathing heavily as he simmers down.
>”...let’s, uh. Let’s just get this, uh, stiff down to where it needs to be.”
>You nod sheepishly and follow him silently the rest of the way.
[https://youtu.be/BJcCvPCJFNI]
>The maintenance room is dark, dirty, and full of all kinds of tools and parts. It feels remarkably claustrophobic despite the room being huge.
>The bodyguard looks nervous.
>”Just, uh. Just drop him, uh, there, I guess…”
>You gently set the bag down.
>”...poor bastard didn't deserve that.”
>”...y-yeah… I, uh, I guess he didn't. It'll be, uh, okay, though. The Boss, uh… she has a guy for this.”
>He audibly swallows and adjusts his tie.
>”H-hey, uhhh, Frankie… we got, uh, we got another-”
>He cuts himself off with a high pitched yelp as a pair of huge glowing eyes appear in the darkness.
>They flit back and forth from you, to the bodyguard, to the body bag.
>A low, hissing voice speaks from the darkness.
>”...jusssssst leave him heeeeere. I'll get to him…. sssssssooooon enough.”
>”Y-yeah, okay, uh, th-thanks, F-Frankie.”
>The fox turns to you with a smile that's very poorly hiding sheer panic.
>”(L-let's get the hell out of here, man…!)”
>One look at the wide, glowing eyes has you agreeing immediately. You and the bodyguard quickly dash out of the room, stopping for a breather after running down several hallways.
>”Huff… phew. Uhh… I hate, uh, goin’ in there…”
>”Wh-who was...that, exactly…?”
>”That’s, uh, that's Frankie… she takes care of, uhhh, maintenance.”
>”...what kind of maintenance, throwing out unlucky bastards like that guy?”
>”Y-yeah. ...uhh, and I think she, uh, actually does fix the slot machines and, uhhhhh… shit like that.”
>”Damn. Well, at least that's done. ...what'll Frankie do with that guy?”
>A look of genuine fear crosses the big fox’s face.
>”...bud, I can't t-talk about that. Alright? Y-you’ll have to, uh, ask the Boss…”
>”You really think that bitch will tell me anything?”
>”Uhh…..”
>”Yeah, I didn't think so. I don't know what the fuck her problem is, but-”
>You immediately cut yourself off when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.
>You pivot on your heels and find yourself face to chest with a very unimpressed Penny.
>”But WHAT, sweetheart? I'm DYIN’ to hear the end of this sentence.”
>Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.
>You start to bullshit something, but the bodyguard interrupts.
>”He, uhh, he wasn't talkin’ about you, B-Boss.”
>”Oh yeah? Well who the hell was he talkin’ about?”
>”U-Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…. F-Frankie.”
>Penny raises an eyebrow, staring at her employee, then sighs and nods.
>”Yeah, sure. Whatever. I believe it; that bitch has more loose screws than a fucking hardware store after a tornado. But I'll be damned if she ain't the best in the business.”
>”Best at what?”
>Your “boss” sneers and rolls her eyes.
>”FIXIN’ SHIT, dumbass. She's the maintenance tech. Ain't you listening to anything?”
>”Well yeah, b-but… why did I take a corpse down to her?”
>The cat rolls her eyes again, taking a puff on her cigar before answering.
>”That bastard you hauled down? An android, like me. Frankie’ll patch him up, wipe that gunshot outta his memory, and get him back on the floor by Tuesday.”
>”Wait, he wasn't-”
>”Nah, he wasn't flesh-n-blood. Hell, 90% of the folks here ain't. Androids, eh, we're cheaper. Heheh.”
>She smiles more dangerously.
>”...plus, I can shoot a motherfucker and get him fixed if he's a droid. Can't do that with everybody...”
>You swallow nervously as Penny shows off her sharp teeth. 
>”...not even you. Heheh. At least, not a headshot.”
>She laughs harshly, and the big fella chuckles nervously. Penny eventually stops laughing and gives the bodyguard a slap on the back.
>”Thanks for taking this schmuck to Frankie, Dub. You mind givin’ him the rookie tour? I got some… business… to attend to in my office. And I don't wanna be disturbed, got that?”
>”Y-yes ma'am.”
>”Attaboy.”
>She slaps the fox’s back again and marches off towards her office. He breathes a sigh of relief when she's out of earshot.
>”Hey, thanks for bailing me out, uh, Dub.”
>”Uhh… no worries. Just, uhhh, watch whatcha say, pal. The Boss don't, uhh, don't play around. She'll kill ya. She'll, uhh, she'll kill ya with a smile on ‘er face.”
>”...thanks for the heads up. Let's get this tour over with, I guess…”
>”Yeah, alright. Not like I'm, uh, doin’ anything else…”
>Dub leads you out to the casino floor. 
>”You, uh, you probably won't be working any of the tables, but it doesn't hurt you to show the layout of the place. The roulette tables are, uh, here at the back, with the card tables on either side of the main walkways, with the slot machines more, uh… to the front.”
>Dub motions to the receptionist at the front of the casino. 
>”If anything… I'd, uh, think that the boss would stick you up there. When not being her errand-boy you'll, uh, be making sure no underage punk tries to weasel their way in. You of all people know that we are a, uh, mostly classy establishment…”
>The two of you now head into the back of the casino, where the lounge is. Seems to be after hours, as the only people out here are staff.
[https://youtu.be/GPuBHf32uGg]
>Some of the garish lights are off now, with the remaining ones casting an almost lonesome glow over the casino floor.
>It’s infinitely quieter, but somehow smokier than it was before. A few dealers lean against the bar, shooting the shit and sharing some drinks.
>The moment Dub steps out, a woman calls out and runs up to him, jumping and wrapping her arms and legs around him.
>”THERE’S my big man! Heheheh.”
>The curvy fox woman plants countless kisses on her husband's face, her three tails waving happily. Dub chuckles, embarrassed, but hugs his wife.
>She climbs off him, then turns to you. Her eyes search your face, and she seems to recognize you.
>Without a word, the woman slaps the everloving fuck out of you.
>”SHIT! What the hell’s your problem, lady?”
>”YOU’RE the dirtbag that stole chips right off my table! Don't you play dumb with me, you jackass! I've got half a mind to beat your ass till you can't even fucking-”
>”Uhh, simmer down, honey…”
>Dub gently puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder, and she snorts, but ends her tirade.
>”...anyway. I heard the Boss has you workin’ for her now. Serves you right. Stealing from a man like Uno… you oughta be ashamed.”
>”Look, I don't really give a damn what you think about me. I'm only doing this shit so your boss doesn't kill me.”
>The fox woman rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh.
>”Whatever. Just don't fuck with me, alright? You just do your time and get out. Some of us actually LIKE this job, and don't want assholes like YOU ruining it for us.”
>”Yeah, yeah.”
>Dub adjusts his tie nervously and clears his throat.
>”Uhhh, anyway. I'm gonna, uh, finish givin’ the rookie his tour, Trip. I'll see ya after work, hon.”
>The two share a kiss, then part ways. Dub sighs happily as Trip walks away.
>”...God, I love that woman… Uhh, anyway. You may have to play, uh, bartender in the lounge some. Don't get shitfaced, alright? Last guy that did that, uh… well, even Frankie couldn't fix ‘im… (I… I didn't even know droids COULD get drunk…)”
>You nod in affirmation. You're not about to drink your sorrows away. You're too scared of the repercussions…
>”And, uh. That's really about it, I, uh, I guess. If ya need to ask me somethin’ my office is right, uh, here. I'm usually in there all day unless somethin’ goes, uhhh…… screwy. If ya can't find me, ask Trip. Boss says you start, uh, first thing tomorrow, so see ya then.”
>”Alright. ...thanks, Dub.”
>”Don't mention it. ...hey, uh. I didn't actually get your, uh, name…”
>You shake the man's hand.
>”Jeff. Jeff Brown.”
>”I, uh, I don't forget names, Jeff. Good to meetcha, I guess… I'm Dub DuBois.”
>He grins a little sympathetically.
>”...hey. Just, uh. Just hang in there, alright? I'm sure, uh, this'll all blow over just fine.”
>”...I hope so, man. I hope so…”

Chapter 3: Day One in Hell

>You wake up to the buzzing of your alarm clock. 
>Fuck this. 
>You toss the cheap plastic thing across the room, silencing it with a solid “thunk” against the wall. 
>As you recollect the events that occurred yesterday, you wonder: shouldn't you just call the cops?
>You skip putting on pants for now and trudge into the bathroom to relieve yourself, then the kitchen for some hopefully-not-quite-expired milk and cereal. 
>As you cross over the living room, you hear someone clear their throat; you freeze in your tracks and turn towards your armchair.
>In your favorite old chair sits your new boss, Penny. She lounges comfortably, a bottle of whiskey from your pantry in one hand, and her gun in the other. 
>She tracks your gaze to the broken landline phone that sits on a side table. 
>”Morning, babe~ You better hurry up and get ready! We've got a full day ahead of ourselves!”
>You immediately slink back into your room and slip into a relatively clean pair of slacks and a button-up shirt. When you return, you find Penny taking a long pull from the bottle; she places it on the end table next to your chair with a satisfied sigh.
>”Thanks for the free drink, slick. You sure know how to butter up your new boss, huh~?”
>”I… how did you even get in here? There's a doorman, and there's no way you guessed which apartment was mine!”
>She smirks and chuckles mysteriously.
>”It's amazin’ what a man will tell ya for the low, low price of giving him a peek at the puppies~ Your landlord oughta invest in a better doorman.”
>”...”
>”Aaaaanyway. I'm gonna guess you were plannin’ on calling the cops? Tough luck, you missed your old phone’s funeral about, oh, two hours ago?”
>”Two hours- how long have you been in my apartment?!”
>”Long enough. Heheheh.”
>”...fine. What do you want?”
>”Um. Hello? You work for me now? I was just trying to be a good boss and escort you to work, so you're not late. Fuck, you're not very bright, are ya.”
>”I'm not a damn child, I don't need you babysitting me.”
>Penny’s eyes quite literally flash green as she brandishes her pistol, smirking.
>”I don't think I ASKED if you needed me, babe. I SAID, I'm escorting you. Do we have an understanding here?”
>You nervously swallow and try not to walk into a bullet hole in your head. 
>”Y-yes Ma'am. I understand.”
>Jesus Christ, this is humiliating. What is her deal?
>Penny interrupts your thoughts. 
>”If you're just going to stand there, we might as well leave. I don't have all day to wait on your ass.”
>”Fine, let's just go, I guess.”
>She stands, stretches, and grabs the whiskey bottle as the two of you leave.
>”It sure was nice of you to give your favorite boss such a generous gift, Mister Brown~”
>”Yeah, yeah… I didn't even think you droids got anything out of drinking booze.”
>”Oh, I get plenty out of it, hun. Heheh, sometimes a good drink even makes my nice suit’s little buttons get a bit... loose~”
>Penny abruptly stops walking and stretches, arching her back. As if on cue, the top button on her suit pops open, affording you a glance at some more of her cleavage.
>She smirks at the sight of your eyes dipping down to look at her chest.
>”...lookin’ for something~?”
>You stammer as you try to pry your gaze away from her boobs.
>”I, uh, n-no ma'am. No- wait a minute, what's that?”
>With her top few buttons open, you see that Penny has a set of slot machine reels embedded into her collarbone, just above her breasts.
>She narrows her eyes.
>”What’s what?”
>”The… the reels?”
>She unconsciously puts a hand to the slots, frowning.
>”Yeah, so I’m a slot machine. What about it?”
>You look up to see her eyes alight with fire. Almost as if she’s expecting some sort of rude quip or remark. 
>I, uh, j-just didn't notice them earlier. Th-they're not bad or anything. I just never expected you to be a gambling machine as well as the owner of a casino…”
>She blinks a few times, but seems to cool down.
>”...yeah, well. Everyone starts somewhere. ...but enough of that; you don't need to know my personal life, alright? We aren't gonna be friends, neighbors, or fuckbuddies. I'm your boss, and you're my employee, got that? We keep this shit professional.”
>”I don't know, boss. A professional doesn't break into her newest employee's home and cut his phone line. That's more yandere, if anything.”
>”The fuck is a ‘yan-deer’?”
>”I think somewhere under your shell of being a cold, hard bitch… you like me.”
>The fire returns to her eyes as she bares metal teeth.
>”You shut your fucking mouth right now. If I liked your sorry ass, we wouldn't be in this situation right now. If I liked you, I would've banned you from the casino and called it a day. If I LIKED you, I wouldn't be walking your ass to work, because I wouldn't have to FORCE you to work off a debt! Do you hear me, you goddamn moron?”
>”...then what's that blush all about?”
>Her pupils widen a bit; Penny seems to almost deflate slightly.
>”...j-just shut up. Giving me a fucking migraine.”
>”But you're an android. Can you even feel pain?”
>”......”
>Penny walks a little faster to the casino. 
>It doesn't take long for the both of you to reach the business. Dub lets you both in through the front doors and you immediately follow Penny to the back room. 
>Once there, she nods and sighs before taking a seat behind her desk.
>”Alright, babe. Day one…”
>You roll up your sleeves and ask what your new boss wants you to do. 
>”Okay, Penny. Now that I'm here, what do you want me to do? I could stand at the front with Dub, help man the cashier's booth, man one of the blackjack tables…”
>She smiles wickedly.
>”How about you be the casino's bitch. You were so good at taking out the garbage yesterday that you've shown me that you really want that position.”
>Is this bitch serious? A fucking janitor job?
>”Of course, if that's too lowly for someone like you, I can probably get you in as Frankie’s assistant; she'd probably enjoy the company~”
>”Fuck that, I'll take the damn janitor job.”
>”Yeah, that's what I thought. Heh. Go get your shit from the closet down the hall. I shouldn't have to explain how to operate a broom, but if you can't figure it out… don't ask me, I'm not your fucking kindergarten teacher.”
>”Yeah, yeah…”
>You shuffle over to the janitorial closet and find a small basic checklist taped to a clipboard. It looks like the lobby, bathroom, balcony, and offices all require some sort of cleaning on a daily basis. 
>At least you don't have to clean up the maintenance room… you don't want to know what the fuck that room has going on anymore.
>May as well get started, or you're never gonna get done…
>You head up to the balcony first, since it's farthest from the broom closet. Doesn't seem too dirty, luckily.
>Maybe this job will be easy, anyway…
>As you sweep the place up, you look out over the rest of the casino. People are already filing in, even though the place JUST opened. You'd say it's sad, but you've spent whole days here before, so you don't have a hell of a lot of room to joke.
>You've never really been up here, though. This place is generally just for the high rollers. That's also probably why it's pretty clean.
>As you sweep, a casino worker ambles past, looking confused. You recognize him with a shudder as the poor bastard Penny shot yesterday.
>He turns to you with a pitifully lost expression.
>”...hey, uhh… you don't happen to know where I'm supposed to be working today, do you? I'm… kind of afraid to ask Miss Penny. She can be kind of intense.”
>”Well, do you remember where you worked yesterday?”
>He seems to think about it, but gets an alarmed face after a moment.
>”...I don't… I don't remember yesterday at all, actually…”
>...poor guy.
>”...hey, buddy, it's okay. I think I remember seeing ya running a roulette table. You looked pretty tired, maybe you just forgot because of exhaustion.”
>His fear seems to slowly melt away as he processes, and apparently accepts, this explanation.
>”Ohh. Yeah, I was kind of tired yesterday. Thanks, pal. Good luck with the cleanup.”
>”Yeah, no problem.”
>Smiling, the droid walks away.
>With a sigh, you quickly finish cleaning the balcony, then head back downstairs.
>You go grab some refills on cleaning products, but freeze when you see a post-it stuck to the bottom of your checklist.
>”I'm gonna need you to take another stiff down to the maintenance room; employee eval gone wrong. Don't forget the rest of your duties! -Penny”
>Shit. Is this gonna be a daily thing? Hauling droid corpses down to the cellar so some fucked up mechanic can play with em and send em back to work tomorrow?
>...not like you have much of a choice but to play along, though…
>You sigh and head off to Penny’s office. There's a bag already waiting outside, and a huge DO NOT DISTURB sign hangs on her door.
>You carefully drag the bag down the hallway, making sure nobody can see you. When you reach the maintenance room, you hesitate for several minutes before finally going in.
>When you step in, you hear quiet, heavy breathing in the darkness. You swallow nervously and clear your throat, immediately cutting the breathing off.
>Those huge glowing eyes appear again, looking more irritated than yesterday.
>”What do YOU want? I'm… in the middle of ssssomething.”
>”Sorry. J-just bringing in another droid.”
>”Another one?! The bossssss neeeedsss to give meee a break…”
>”Yeah, I figure she keeps you busy.”
>”You have no ideeeea… jusssst leave him heeere, I guesssss.”
>”O-okay.”
>You drop the bag and start to leave, only for that slow, hissing voice to speak up again.
>”Ssssay… you're playing janitor, right? Why don't you clean thisssss room for meeee? The bosssss would probably appreciate you putting in extra work.”
>You REALLY don't want to be around this creep any longer than you need to be… but fuck, she has a point. Penny probably WOULD like you doing extra shit. And hell, maybe if you impress her, you can move up to a better job…
>”I don't know. I've already got a list of rooms I need to get cleaned before Penny makes her afternoon rounds.”
>”But… sssss, FINE, whatever. Maybeeee you could do it later…?”
>”Tell you what, if I get my other shit done before Penny’s rounds, I'll come back and clean up here.”
>”It’sssss a deeeal. I'll even TELL her you did extra work, so sheeee will definitely notice.”
>”...thanks.”
>Without another word, Frankie vanishes back into the darkness. What a freakshow…
>You head back to the broom closet and plan out your route…
>Hm. Lobby, offices, then bathrooms would probably be the fastest order. But then again, do you really WANT to get done fast, now that you're obligated to go back into the damn robo-morgue? Any excuse is a good excuse to stay away from that creepy woman downstairs. 
>But… then again, she said she'd put in a good word with the boss.
>Dammit. Decisions, decisions. You've never been good with em.
>...Fuck it. You won't hurry, but you won't procrastinate either. If you make it to Frankie's repair room, you'll tidy the place up. If not, oh well. 
>Mind made up, you head off to the lobby, hoping it won't be too much of a headache to clean…
>More patrons have filed in at this point; the casino is actually starting to get crowded in some places. Greeeeeat. You sigh and get to cleaning…

>...after a couple hours’ work, you finally make your way to the last stop on your to-do list: the bathrooms. Fuck, why did you save these for last…
>You just hope that the casino guests can keep themselves somewhat orderly and that the stalls aren't complete messes…
>Maybe since this is a remotely classy joint, it won't be so bad?
>You hold your breath and step inside… and are pleasantly surprised to see that there's very little cleaning needed. Huh.
>It only takes about ten minutes, and you're done. Easy as pie.
>As you replace the old trash can liners, you note with satisfaction that the bathrooms are near spotless. 
>You've still got an hour left before it's quitting time… Should you REALLY test your luck with Frankie's nightmare-room?
>.....Fuck it. It's not like you've got anything better to do besides report in to the head bitch…
>You grab a flashlight and some gloves, then head down to the maintenance room once more, steeling yourself for the inevitable fucked up shit you're about to have to clean up.
>As you open the door with an ominous creak, you mutter out and see if she's still at work. 
>”H-h-hey, Frankie… You still here? I, uh, finished my other rooms. Do you… Need any help?”
>You nearly shit yourself when her massive eyes appear only feet from your face.
>”I'm alwayssssss heeeere. And yesss, I've beeeen waiting for you all day. Thanksssss for coming baaack.”
>”Uh, y-yeah... n-no problem… what needs to be cleaned up?”
>She blinks slowly, one eye at a time.
>”...sssstart with the oil sssstainsss on the floor, pleeeeassse.”
>”Uh, okay. Mind if I cut a light on? It's dark as fuck in here.”
>Her pupils instantly narrow to slits.
>”Nnnnnooooo. No lightssss.”
>”...how do you expect me to clean without being able to see?”
>”Usssse your flashlight. Jussssst keeeep it away from meeee.”
>You wordlessly comply and switch a flashlight you got from the cleaning closet on. 
>It looks and feels like the entire room's floor has been coated in mechanical fluids of some sort. Every step you take feels like your shoes are going to stick or slip on the coated concrete ground…
>Not helping matters is the thought that this shit isn't just mechanical fluid; it's basically blood from the poor bastards Penny has shot. This room is a fucking gorefest for robots.
>As you sigh and start mopping, you vaguely wonder why the creepy bitch is so anal about lights… but quickly snuff the thought out. You ain't paid to wonder about shit. Hell, you're not paid to CLEAN either.
>You idly shine your light around the room as you clean, checking out the myriad of scattered android parts. It really is a damn horror show.
>Something like a cross between an operating table and one of those lifts they use in garages sits in the middle of the room, and you shudder when you see a very lifelike, and very dead android resting on it.
>The poor bastard’s cut open from neck to navel, with all manner of wires and devices jutting out. Must’ve caught Frankie in the middle of a repair…
>Your light also falls on something long, thin, and pale grey. It almost looks like a tail…?
>You focus the beam on it and step forward, only to hear an alarmed Frankie speak up.
>”SSSSSSTOP! Weeee had a deeeal!”
>”...okay, okay, jeez. You don't have to be such a fucking drama queen. It's just a tail.”
>”MY tail, thank you. Take your light off meeee.”
>You roll your eyes, but comply anyway. Not worth the fight.
>”Jeez. Sorry.”
>You half-heartedly apologize and continue cleaning her messy shop. Jesus, has she ever cleaned this place?
>If it weren't for your vigorous scrubbing and mopping, you could easily be convinced that the floors were painted black on purpose with all the shit she's let sit and stain the place. 
>”H-have you ever thought about re-organizing the place? It seems… Kind of messy?”
>”I know wheeere everything isss. I don't NEEEED to reee-organize.”
>”Uh-huh. I bet.”
>You detect a hint of smugness creep into her slow, hissing speech.
>”I know enough to ssssay you're about to walk into-”
>Your face slams against something very soft, wet, and squishy. It feels like an honest to god internal organ or some shit. You immediately gag and step back.
>”WHAT THE FUCK?!”
>”...into theeee bag of oily ragssss I hung up earlier.”
>”Why the fuck do you have a soaking wet bag of rags hanging around???”
>”Reeeeassssonsss.”
>You can just HEAR the shit-eating grin in her voice.
>”Oh yeah, real funny. Well guess what, bitch?”
>You turn the flashlight beam towards those huge, luminous eyes.
>”JESUS CHRIST!”
>...
>She looks like one of those fucked up frilled lizards you've seen on TV, but… wrong. She's clearly a droid, because several parts of her have exposed metal or wiring.
>She's clad in a really tattered black mechanic’s uniform, one that seems way too small.
>She's also fucking huge, towering over you by a considerable margin. ...and seems pretty jacked; she could probably take that Dub guy in a fight.
>Her scales are a really dull grey… like she needs to shed her skin or something.
>As you look closer, you realize: some of the parts making her up don't even MATCH.
>She's got patches of mismatched scales, patches of faux fur… hell, even her arms and legs seem to be from different droids.
>...wait. Is this bitch cobbled together from the employees Penny has shot?
>Dear god, and you thought she was just a creeper.
>Frankie hisses loudly, showing off WAY too many sharp fangs.
>”Turn it off, NOW.”
>You immediately turn the beam of light away from her and begin to slowly back away. Her voice now picks up a quieter tone.
>”...Well, now you know how hideousssss I am. Thankssss a lot for reeeeminding meese of how fucked up I am.”
>You hear her shifting around in the darkness, keeping her eyes focused on you intently.
>”You're lucky you're not a droid. I'd have fucking killed you by now…”
>”For what, LOOKING at you?”
>She hisses loudly again.
>”Sssssshut your goddamn mouth! I don't neeeeed your sssshit!”
>”...alright, sorry. I'll just… finish cleaning and leave.”
>”Yeah, you do that.”
>She sighs quietly as you silently finish mopping up.
>”...I'm ssssstill going to teeeell the bossss you helped meee. I'm an abomination, but I'm no liar.”
>”...thanks. I'm, uh... sorry, Frankie.”
>”....”
>The mechanic never responds. You eventually just awkwardly leave. 
>As the door closes behind you, you swear you hear one last, almost tearful sigh.

Chapter 4: Shot Glasses

>It's been about a week since you began your involuntary employment at the Lucky Cat Casino. 
>For better or worse, Penny keeps the vast majority of your pay as a sort of “installment plan” to repay the debts you owe her. 
>You know the layout of the facility pretty well now, so you can almost clean the entire casino with your daily regimen and have an hour or so to spare. 
>That doesn't mean that it's an hour of free time. 
>Whether it's standing around with Dub or learning how to mix drinks, that last little bit of your shift is anything but a break. 
>Today is no different. You're at the casino's bar, learning how to make a French 75. 
>The master bartender, a cat woman with ridiculously voluminous fur, runs through the proper drink procedure with you once more. Her voice is smooth and sultry, almost as though she's purring every word.
>”....And then you shake it all up, pour it in the chilled glass, and top it off with a little bit of champagne! See. Not so hard, eh?”
>You nod and hammer the recipe into memory. 
>”Just remember one thing though, Jeff…”
>The bartender leans in close, making sure that nobody overhears. 
>”If you mess up any of the Boss’ drinks, she'll gut you like a fish- whether you're an android or not. Trust me. Ms. Penny takes pride in having an excellently-staffed bar.”
>You nod once more, swallowing nervously.
>”Think you've got it down?”
>”...y-yeah, I think so.”
>”Alright. Make one, then. Let's see it.”
>You nod and get to work, solemnly making the drink to the exact specifications the master bartender gave you. When you're done, she nonchalantly takes a sip, then nods.
>”...Perfect! Try adding a little lemon twist next time, it really enhances the flavor. Plus, it just looks good.”
>You continue to study some more drinks as you ponder over who exactly is and isn't a robot here. 
>Obviously Dub and Trip are living anthros, but you're not sure who else is… 
>”Say, Alyssa… Y-you don't wear a fur-catcher or anything… are you-”
>The fluffy feline looks over at you with an airy chuckle.
>”Am I… an android? Oh, heavens, no. My fur's all natural, sweetie; I just don't shed. You can admire this fluff all you want, but no touching~! I'm a taken woman.”
>You laugh at her teasing. Alyssa seems like a great coworker. You're extremely surprised that her hair never gets in any of her drinks. Her insanely voluminous fur is perfectly smoothed with a rebellious floofy poof around her neck. 
>The two of you are interrupted by a clattering of glass and metal as you both look over and see the casino’s other bartender flailing around and trying to not spill a drink on himself. 
>Alyssa sighs in disappointment. 
>”You can only pop someone in the head so many times... I swear, after the last four times that Ms. Penny has shot Jerry, it's really started affecting his performance. Poor fellow used to be pretty good at his job.”
>You double take as her words hit you.
>”Wait, you know she shoots the droids?”
>”Mhm. It's common knowledge… thing is, since Frankie wipes their memory, none of them remember being shot even once, and it's policy not to tell them.”
>Alyssa looks over at Jerry sadly.
>”...it's not an easy rule to follow, but… it's there.”
>Jerry eventually finishes the drink he's been working on, setting the glass down with a shaking hand. Alyssa smiles encouragingly.
>”Good job, sweetie.”
>”Th-th-thanks, Miss Alyssa… I-I dunno what's w-wrong with me today… feeling kinda s-s-shaky.”
>”Oh, well… it happens to the best of us, Jerry. Give me just a moment and I'll come test the drink.”
>Your heart sinks when you hear an unwelcome voice pipe up: Penny.
>”Don't worry about it, Alyssa, I'll give it the ol’ taste test.”
>Jerry shakes gently as Penny tosses back the drink in one swoop. She swallows the whole thing, putting on a calm smile.
>She gently swirls the empty glass around before setting it down carefully.
>”Jerry, I just wanted to let you know… That this is the best drink you've ever made… and it tastes like horse piss.”
>Jerry's eyes go wide as Penny pulls out her signature handgun, sans suppressor. 
>”Oh, dear Christ. P-p-please, Miss Penny… oh, D-d-dear Lord h-h-have mercy on-”
>BANG
>The bartender once known as Jerry crumples like a box of rocks. Alyssa winces, clutching her ears.
>The casino continues to run as if nothing happened: slots jingle, roulette wheels turn, and chips get tossed on felt boards. 
>Your boss coldly turns on her heels and walks back towards her office.
>”Worthless. I won't even hassle Frankie with repairing this one.”
>Your ears ring for minutes after the shot is fired. You think you're going to be sick. 
>Alyssa looks down at her ex-coworker, sadness evident in her eyes.
>”...I'll take him down to Frankie later, maybe see if she can fix him one last time. Then I'm gonna help him retire. Bless him, he deserves a break.”
>”Will Penny approve that?”
>”Well, he won't get any retirement pay, but… at least he'll be out of here.”
>She sighs deeply, turning to you with a frown.
>”...Jeff, I know this is short notice, but… I'm gonna need you to fill in for Jerry. Until the end of the shift, anyway. I can't run this bar alone.”
>”You think I'm ready?”
>”...well, as ready as you need to be.”
>You nod and carefully step over the ruined droid, trying not to look at his face, then get to work.
>As you mix up drinks, you can't help but wonder…
>...did ANYONE notice that gunshot? It wasn't even silenced, but nobody seemed to give a fuck. Must be Bystander Syndrome or some shit.
>Or maybe everyone's so damn wrapped up in the idea of making easy money they stopped giving a rat’s ass about what's going on around them.
>Either way… it's fucked up.

>Eventually, your shift finally starts to wind down. You and Alyssa start closing and cleaning up the bar.
>The fluffy cat smiles warmly.
>”You did a good job. Thanks for helping on such short notice. ...I can see if I can convince Penny to make you bartender permanently, if you're interested. It has to be better than playing janitor, right?”
>You glance down at Jerry’s “corpse”, Alyssa’s warning from earlier ringing in your ears.
>”Ehhhhh… I don't know. Let me get back to you on that.”
>”Well, okay. It's on the table, sweetie. Just let me know. For now… could you help me drag him down to maintenance?”
>”Yeah, sure.”
>You and Alyssa each grab one of the dead man’s legs, then start off towards Frankie’s morgue.
>Alyssa quietly hums a tune as you walk, looking a bit nervous.
>”Something wrong?”
>”Oh, I just… I'm not a big fan of Frankie’s maintenance room. She scares me, a little.”
>”I getcha. I saw her fugly mug last week.”
>Alyssa narrows her eyes at you.
>”Hey now. That's not really fair to judge her looks. Frankie’s been through a lot, from what I understand.”
>”Eh? What's she been through, escaping a freakshow?”
>Alyssa’s purring tone melts away in favor of a more cold, stern one.
>”Actually, from what I've heard, she's from a line that uses proprietary parts… and her patent company went under, so she can't find parts for herself anymore.”
>”...so she staples shit from other droids to herself to compensate for not being able to get certain parts? Why the hell can’t she just buy generic parts?”
>”It doesn't work like that for all androids. If I were to guess, I’d say Frankie must be falling apart at the seams, and so she’s trying to hold together with whatever scrap she can get ahold of.”
>”Falling apart, huh. Well, machines can be fixed, so I don't see the big deal.”
>Alyssa slaps the fuck out of you.
>”Do you HEAR yourself? Androids aren't just machines, they're people too. Do you have any idea how messed up it is that a woman is in poor health, and your reaction is a shrug? What the hell is the matter with you?”
>”...yeah, yeah. Sorry. I, uh… I should've thought before I spoke.”
>”Seems that's a running problem you have, Jeff.”
>”Yeah, I guess…”
>The rest of the walk to maintenance is silent. When you enter the dark room, Frankie's glowing eyes focus on the fluffy cat.
>”Oh, hi, Alysssssa. What'sssss up?”
>”It's Jerry again.”
>”...but, thissss isss the fifth time this month.”
>”Yeah… I know.”
>”...you know it getssss harder and harder to fickssss him every time, riiiight?”
>”Yes, I… I know. He's already shaking really badly. I'm going to get him retired after this repair.”
>”That’sssss probably for the beeeeesssssst. Poor Jerry.”
>You and Alyssa drag the android closer to Frankie; her eyes abruptly snap over to you, and you hear her hiss quietly.
>”...what's your problem, Frankie?”
>There's a long pause before she speaks, a noticeable waver in her voice.
>”....nothing. Jussssst leave him heeere… with the monssssster.”
>Alyssa looks over at you quizzically as the two of you leave the room.
>”...what was that?”
>”What?”
>”Don't play dumb, Jeff. What was that about a monster?”
>”Oh, that. I got freaked out by Frankie and she got all dramatic about it last week.”
>”What did you do?”
>”I screamed CHRIST when I saw her face. It was just a natural reaction, for fuck’s sake, LOOK at her.”
>”...”
>Alyssa shoves you against the wall with surprising strength given that she's only a little taller than you, and slender.
>”Let me tell you something. You need to learn to get your head out of your ass before someone takes care of you the old-fashioned way. You're a snarky, rude, self-centered asshole who does nothing but piss off people who are just trying to do their jobs and get through the day.”
>”But-”
>”Shut up. I'm talking. I've known Frankie since I started working here, and I can't tell you how many nights she's come and ordered a drink from me. Do you have any idea what kind of life she lives, Jeff?”
>”...no, but-”
>”Let me spell it out for you. She lives HERE. In this casino. She used to work for an auto company, and they went under, so she lost a job, a home, and a place to get spare parts for herself. She's fucking homeless and can't even get proper replacements for anything that breaks on her.”
>”Okay, b-”
>”WILL YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH FOR ONE FUCKING MINUTE? Fuck me, you love to hear yourself talk. Frankie sleeps in that butcher shop of hers every night. She stays in there all day because everyone tells her what a freak she is. Her self esteem is below zero at this point. I try complimenting her, she tears herself down to the point of tears.”
>Alyssa bares her teeth and pushes you against the wall even harder.
>”It's because of jackasses like YOU that my friend is ashamed of herself. People like YOU have made her hate herself so much she won't even step out into public for a minute. I hope you're proud of yourself.”
>The cat releases you and shakes her head, walking away.
>”And until you can get your act together, I don't want to see you near my bar counter.”
>Well, that's swell. You've made yourself look like an asshole in front of your boss and your own coworkers. 
>...maybe she's right. 
>You leave Frankie's chop shop without a word and wait by the casino entrance for your time to clock out. 
>As you stroll down the dark streets, you spot a small convenience store still open. 
>Jackpot. 
>After five minutes, you continue heading home, bottle in hand. 
>You don't bother closing the door to your apartment as you sit down in your favorite chair and take a long pull from the liquor bottle. 
>Maybe you should call out? 
>..........
>Wait, that's right. Your land-line is dead. 
>And you sold your cell phone for some, uh, extra “play-time funds”.
>You sigh and continue to nurse the bottle of liquid gold. 
>Before you even know it, everything goes black. 
>”....-ing drunk. Wake up…. WAKE UP!”
>You sigh and rub your temples. You feel still a little bit intoxicated, so it couldn't have been that long. 
>Penny stands over you with a disappointed look on her face. 
>”Fucking finally. Get up, Sleeping Beauty, we have a problem.”
>”A whuh…?”
>She rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers irritatedly.
>”We have a PROBLEM, moron. Someone ratted me out to the authorities, reported that gunshot. Knew I shoulda used my silencer, but I figured nobody would bother reporting it…”
>Groggy still, you blink slowly a few times.
>”Wait, so?”
>”So we're gonna get investigated today, numbnuts. They're sending an inspector in, so I need you to get to work an hour early. The more people there to back me up, the better.”
>She grins, throwing an arm around you.
>”After all, nothing happened, RIGHT?”
>”Uhhhh…”
>Her eyes glint as she squeezes you somewhat painfully.
>”RIGHT, Jeff? There's absolutely nothing you'd need to tell an investigator.”
>”...r-right.”
>”Good boy. Now get dressed. I'll see you at work.”
>With that, your boss leaves your apartment, whistling happily to herself.
>Bitch.

>After getting ready (and downing a few aspirin for your alcohol-induced headache), you arrive at work, where Penny and a few other casino workers are already waiting. 
>The boss smiles at you and nods.
>”Attaboy. I knew I could count on you being here on time. The inspector ain't even here yet.”
>”Who is the inspector, anyway?”
>”Eh, a broad from a local detective agency or some shit. I'm not too worried.”
>You nod and turn to face the door, just in time to see someone step inside.
>Two someones, even.
>The guy is a totally unremarkable human dude, probably your age, by the look of him.
>The woman, however, is a towering white she-wolf with an awe-inspiring mane of white hair flowing down her back. A lion-like tail swishes around behind her long, slender legs.
>A tight white trenchcoat hugs her curves well, and is unbuttoned to show off some very deep cleavage that rivals even Penny's sizable bust.
>She wears a dark grey, wide-brimmed hat that clashes with her all-white coloration; beneath it, you can make out some long, rabbitish ears. The hat’s pulled down so far you can't see her eyes at all…
>The wolf clears her throat and speaks in a level, professional tone.
>”Good morning. I'm Inspector Connie Lopine, and this is my husb- err, ahem, COLLEAGUE, Anon Lopine.”
>The man nods, smiling.
>”I understand there were reports of a gunshot in here yesterday evening? That must have been a shock to you all.”
>Everyone at the casino looks bewildered. 
>After a few minutes, Penny speaks up. 
>”Hello, Mrs. Lopine. My name is Penny. I run this casino's day-to-day operations. I have no idea what you're talking about. There wasn't any gunshot yesterday? I can understand some folks getting a little rowdy and making a public nuisance after a few too many drinks, but gunshots? Nobody here is armed at my casino. Not even the security guards.”
>”Be that as it may, Miss Penny, my employer takes these sort of reports seriously. You understand, surely. I have to investigate anyway.”
>”Well, if you insist. I certainly hope this won't take too long… we have a lot to do today, unfortunately.”
>The inspector sighs quietly, but puts on a patient smile.
>”I can't promise it'll be fast, but I'll try not to hold you folks up for too long. I'll just need to talk to everyone who was working yesterday evening, and to inspect the bar where the shot was reported.”
>You swallow nervously as the white wolf smiles a little wider, showing off fangs that put even Penny’s metal teeth to shame. Your boss, however, remains perfectly cool and levelheaded.
>”Very well, Inspector. Please, take all the time you need. I'll be in my office if you need me.”
>With that, Penny pivots on her heels and marches off to the back room, silent fury evident on her face. The inspector nods, then turns to you.
>”Well, I suppose you're as good a place to start as any, sir.  As I said, I'm Connie Lopine. And you are?”
>”Uhh… Jeff Brown. Pleasure to meet you, I guess.”
>It's a bit concerning that her eyes are totally obscured… but hey, maybe that means she won't notice you staring at her jugs.
>She shakes your hand, then nods once again.
>”Mister Brown, I don't suppose you mind answering a few questions? We can sit at the bar if you'd like.”
>”Sure, sure… fire away.”
>The two of you take a seat as the Inspector’s assistant heads off into the casino floor. Your eyes nearly fall out of your head when Connie casually pulls a notebook from between her tits.
>She opens it up and pulls a pen out, staring down at the pages.
>”Now then. How long have you worked at the Lucky Cat, Mister Brown?”
>”About a week?”
>”Wow, only a week and you've already experienced a reported gunshot…”
>She scribbles down your response, expression unreadable.
>”O… kay. So, what do you do here?”
>”I'm a custodian, but I'm in training to tend the bar as well.”
>”Mm. Where you at the bar around 10 PM last night?”
>”Y-yes ma'am. The master bartender was showing me how to make one of our signature drinks.”
>”Who else was working the bar?”
>”My coworker, Alyssa.”
>She pauses for a moment, then continues writing.
>”I see. Anyone else? It seems odd that a bar would only be staffed by the master bartender and a trainee.”
>”Well… there was the other tender, but he, uh… had a medical emergency come up and had to leave early.”
>Inspector Lopine’s long ears perk up at this, lifting her hat slightly. You can just BARELY make out intense silver eyes under the brim.
>”...a medical emergency? Of what sort?”
>”Uh….. M-maybe a minor stroke. Or dehydration. I don't really know… He was fumbling with the glasses and seemed pretty out of it. I'm not a doctor. If you find him you can ask him yourself.”
>Connie continues to furiously scribble notes in her notebook. 
>”And the name of said ill bartender?”
>”Uh, Jerry… something. Never got his last name.”
>”Hmm. Do you know anything else about this Jerry fellow?”
>”Not much. I've only been training at the bar for a couple days. I've seen him maybe twice? Including last night.”
>”Mm.”
>She reaches up and adjusts her hat, covering what little bit of her eyes you could see, then falls silent, writing at a blistering pace. Just when you think the interview is over, she fires off another question, this time with a surprisingly cold tone that actually gets you sweating.
>”..Mister Brown, have you considered the possibility that Jerry may have been shot, perhaps in the head or spine, given his behavior?”
>”........”
>She abruptly stops scribbling, raising her head to look at you.
>”...Mister Brown?”
>”I… I, uh… well, y’see…”
>She stares silently for what feels like an hour. You swear you hear the big bitch… g-growling?
>Eventually, though, she nods and continues talking in her even, professional voice as if nothing happened.
>”I understand. That's not an easy thing to think about. Even if you didn't know him well, it's scary to think that someone you work with could've been slowly dying while on shift with you. The thought that he could've been going through something like that, while you didn't think to call 911… why, that kind of thinking could haunt someone for the rest of their life.”
>As she talks, the inspector’s voice takes on a more and more noticeable air of cold fury. You get the sensation that she'd bite your throat out if the opportunity arose.
>”Can you imagine, Mister Brown, being in his shoes? Going through something like that, surrounded by coworkers, but being ignorant of the situation and unable to ask for help? And then, on top of that, there's the fact that one coworker NOTICED unusual behavior and didn't attempt to call for help. Why, it's the stuff of nightmares…”
>Inspector Lopine abruptly slams her notebook shut and drops it back into her vast cleavage, looking down at you with what you assume is a glare.
>”Thank you for your time, Mister Brown. I hope your “friend” Jerry feels better soon, wherever he is. Hopefully I'm wrong. Maybe he was only dehydrated… or even drunk on the job. Who can say?”
>You nervously swallow. 
>”Y-yea. Maybe he'll show up tomorrow. I'll, uh, let him know that he should speak with you as soon as possible.”
>”Thank you, Mister Jeff. It would be greatly appreciated.”
>The amazonian detective stands up and moves over to interview Alyssa
>You breathe a sigh of relief and see that Penny is staring right at you from her personal office entrance. 
>You quickly walk across the casino floor and into your boss’s office. She closes the door behind you and flops into her huge armchair with a sigh.
>”How’d it go? You didn't rat me out, didja?”
>”No, but-”
>”But nothin’. I don't give a shit about the rest of the interview. So long as you didn't sing like a canary, I don't care.”
>”...whatever.”
>Penny sighs and downs a mug of coffee in one long chug, slamming her cup down and shaking her head.
>”That Lopine… she's a tough bitch, Jeffie-boy. They say that she and that limp noodle husband of hers took down an entire fucking mob a handful of years ago.”
>”...you mean to tell me you're SCARED of her?”
>”HEY. I ain't scared of NOTHING. ...but I have a healthy respect for a she-wolf that's got a good foot or so on me and teeth big enough to rip my fucking CPU out.”
>”Riiiight. So you're scared.”
>Penny smiles a little in spite of herself, but quickly brushes it off with a huff.
>”Big talk from you; I saw you quaking in your boots back there!”
>”Hey, in my defense, she was fucking GROWLING at me!”
>Your boss chuckles.
>”Anyway, better get back out there. Never know if she might have more shit to ask later. We can't open up till that bitch leaves, but don't forget about your cleanup duties. Can't sit on yer ass all day just because Busty McWolfTits is here.”
>You snicker a little at Penny’s colorful nickname for the inspector. She laughs a bit too, then re-adopts her stoic attitude.
>”Alright, get outta my office. I ain't paying you to shoot the shit.”
>You nod and step outside… only to run into something and fall flat on your ass.
>You rub the base of your spine, then look up, ready to tear someone a new one for knocking you down.
>Your blood runs cold when you realize you walked right into Frankie. The frilled lizard looks down at you, alarmed.
>”Uhh… eckssscusssse me, I have to tell the bosssssss sssomething important.”
>You nod and open the door, following the mechanic inside out of curiosity.
>Penny immediately stands from her chair, concerned, when she sees Frankie’s face.
>”...Frankie, you look like you've seen a fucking ghost. What’samatter?”
>She cringes, but answers quietly.
>”...I fickssssed Jerry… but… I-I losssssst him.”
>Son of a bitch.


Chapter 5: Jeff Brown: Canary Hunter


>”What the hell do you mean ‘you lost him'?”
>”I mean: I repaired him, aaaaand now I can't find him.”
>”...did you at least wipe his memory, so he doesn't fucking squeal if he finds Miss Wolftits out there?”
>Frankie looks legitimately terrified, even shaking, as she responds quietly.
>”.....n-n-no…”
>Penny’s normally green eyes slowly adopt a red glow as she snarls, baring sharp steel teeth.
>”ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! WE HAVE A GODDAMN RED ALERT SITUATION OUT THERE, AND NOW WE HAVE A DEAD MAN WALKIN’, READY TO SING LIKE A CANARY?”
>A few oily tears drip down Frankie’s snout.
>”I-I’m ssssssorry, Bossss…”
>”YOU BET YOUR ASS YOU’RE SORRY, YOU… you…”
>Your heart skips a beat when Penny unholsters her pistol, now properly silenced, and points it at the towering mechanic. Frankie bursts into tears proper now as Penny’s hand shakes violently.
>”.......”
>The cat’s eye twitches as she pivots on her heels and unloads her gun into the massive fish tank on the wall. Saltwater sprays everywhere as the aquarium drains.
>Your boss turns back around with a somewhat calmer, but still grim expression.
>”...Well. Looks like we're going canary hunting. Frankie. Jeff. You two and I are gonna find Jerry and get his head wiped. If the Inspector finds him, we are all fucked. He could be anywhere in the casino, so spread out. ...but don't do anything too suspicious. That wolf bitch will definitely be keeping an eye out…”
>Penny walks over and wipes a few tears from Frankie’s eyes.
>”Hey. Look at me. This ain't your fault. Sorry I blew the fuck up on ya. I need you at 100%, alright? We good?”
>”.....w-weeee’re… good.”
>”Attagirl. Now AMSCRAY!”
>You, Penny, and Frankie head off in different directions. 
>The hunt is on.
>Frankie bolts down to her despair room while you and Penny walk swiftly onto the casino's main floor. 
>”I'm gonna go check out the security cameras. Comb this entire lobby and see if you can find any traces of that bucket of bolts.”
>You nod and slowly start to make your way to the front, making sure to check every table, chair, and machine. 
>You even check the cashier's box and the time punch station. 
>By the time you've made it to the front of the casino, you're in a cold sweat. Where the fuck could be have gone?!
>Dub and Trip are conversing with that Lopine lady about Jerry.
>”.... Are you guys sure you haven't seen him anywhere today? Come on guys, we go way back!”
>Dub and Trip look at each other warily before answering. 
>”Sorry, Connie. Sorry, Anon. We haven't seen him at all today. I think he really is out sick today.”
>Their gazes flick to you and back over to the Inspector as you take a quick peek to see if the missing droid is hanging around the business’s entrance. 
>The Inspector also glances your way, you think. Hard to tell with that fucking hat.
>”...Well, okay, guys. What about yesterday? Did either of you see him then?”
>Trip shakes her head.
>”I was off yesterday, Con.”
>”Yeah, uhh… she took a vacation day. I was here, but, uh… but I didn't come near the bar. Some old fart was, uh, stirring trouble at the slots, so I was there all day.”
>”Okay. Thanks, you two… have a good day, guys.”
>The wolf turns towards you and starts approaching fast. You try to play it casual and get the fuck back on the floor and away from her.
>Her voice call out from behind you.
> ”Mister Brown.”
>You walk a little faster, and so does she, judging by the tap of claws on the tile floor.
>”Mister Brown, come here.”
>You break into a full-on run now. Unfortunately for you, turns out, a human can't exactly outrun a wolf. Who woulda guessed.
>The Inspector all but tackles you, knocking you flat on your ass. She calmly helps you up and nods, acting as if she didn't just fucking sprint after you.
>”I only have one more question. Can you corroborate that Mister and Mrs. DuBois were nowhere around the bar yesterday?”
>You breathe a little sigh of relief.
>”Yeah. Trip was off work, and Dub was trying to keep some old geezer from beating folks with his cane.”
>Connie nods and jots down something.
>”Alright. Thank you.”
>You start to walk away, but she clamps a clawed hand on your shoulder.
>”Hold it. Now, do you want to explain why you were running from me?”
>Fuck. Think fast. 
>”I, uh… I don't do too well under pressure when singled out… P-please, Inspector. My, uh, Crohn's flares up w-when I'm nervous……”
>The amazonian she-wolf looks genuinely disgusted. 
>”Okay. Don't let me stop you.”
>You quickly walk back to the employee rooms and think. 
>Where could Jerry have gone? 
>”Pssst! Jeff! Over here!”
>Penny is peeking at you over by one of the stairwells. 
>”That dumbass got himself trapped on the roof! Let's go get him down before he hurts himself or anyone else.”
>You both book it up the stairs, taking them two at a time. 
>After a couple exhausting flights, you make it to the roof access door. It's still open. 
>Penny bursts through and onto the hot rooftop. The cloudless morning sky beats down overhead mercilessly. 
>Penny puts on an unconvincing smile and speaks through gritted teeth. 
>”Come on out, Jerr. We know you're here. Let's get you fixed up, right as rain. You'll be back making cocktails before the day is even over!”
>Jerry pops up from behind a large A/C unit and hovers over to the rooftop edge. His twitching seems even worse, but he doesn't seem to show any kind of fear…
>Rather, he just looks exhausted.
>”C-come on n-n-now, P-penny… Y-y-y-you know I'm not j-just going to sign my life away again… How many times has it been…? H-how many times h-h-h-have you s-snuffed out my life, j-j-just to bring me b-back as s-some sort of s-s-slave… A-am I just some sort of s-sick j-joke to you? Ju-just like you, P-penny, I have f-feelings… Emotions… I-I had DREAMS, Penny. I w-wanted to make something of myself, one day…”
>Penny's eyes widen as Jerry's heels hang off the building. 
>”Come on, Jerr. Let's not do anything drastic, now…”
>Jerry looks at you with something you can only describe as total defeat. 
>”I'm s-sorry, P-p-penny. Y-you either shoot me and I f-f-fall off this building, or I w-walk off myself. Either w-way, I'm n-not going t-t-to be a pawn in y-your game a-a-anymore…”
>He puts on a half-smile and nods at you.
>”...h-hey, Jeff. Tell… tell A-A-Alyssa that she's a d-damn good coworker.”
>Without another moment’s hesitation, Jerry steps backwards and plummets off the roof. 
>Penny gasps and runs to the edge just as a deafening metallic BANG, nearly an explosion, rings out. She falls to her knees and looks over the roof’s lip silently.
>”...he’s…”
>You slowly walk over, a pit forming in your stomach, and look down yourself.
>Jerry's mangled shell of a body lies near the front walk of the business. He must have hit the ground completely parallel, because there are bits and pieces of him over ten feet away from his point of impact. 
>One thing is immediately clear: he's well beyond repair. Hell, he's probably beyond being sold for scrap, at this point.
>Penny stares down silently, expression unreadable. A very, very faint full-body tremble is all that betrays her thoughts.
>She eventually gulps loudly, speaking in an uncharacteristically meek voice.
>”...G-go home, Jeff…”
>”...but-”
>”JUST… just… go.”
>After a long period of silence, you do just that, taking the back door out of the casino and walking back to your apartment.

Chapter 6: Picking Up The Pieces 

>You can't believe it….
>Your whole body trembles. You can't take any more of this shit right now. 
>”JUST… just… go.”
>You order your newest employee to go back home; after a few minutes of silent contemplation he does just that, leaving you alone on the rooftop.
>...you can't tear your eyes away from the smoking wreck that used to be Jerry. It's fucking gruesome, even considering some of the things you've seen in your line of work.
>He may have not been flesh and blood, but he was a living being. Just like you: circuit boards, wires, codes, electronic signals… all coming together to make a…
>A person.
>If you could, you'd be crying right now, you can feel it. 
>You feel a sort of overwhelming tightness building in your chest. Your head feels like a vice is squeezing down on it.  
>Is this sadness? Some weird form of anger? Mourning?
>...It's scary how little you really understand your own feelings sometimes. Such is the curse of being such an old model of android…
>Jerry’s speech echoes in your head.
>The man had dreams for his future…
>...did you ever have those? You don't remember them, if you did.
>All you can think about right now is that someone who worked for you is dead now, and it's all your fault.
>You cough and choke, feeling the urge to do SOMETHING, even if you can't shed a tear. Your shaking intensifies even farther.
>You feel like the scum of the Earth.
>After a long time of lying on the edge, staring down, you sigh and shakily stand up.
>There’s no way in hell that Inspector Lopine didn't hear him hit the ground. May as well go downstairs and talk to her…
>You straighten your suit up and open the door, hanging your head as you walk. The white wolf is already waiting at the base of the staircase, a concerned frown on her face.
>”Miss Penny, is something the matter? You seem upset.”
>”H-huh? I'm fine… r-really.”
>...damn, is that YOUR voice? All your usual confidence is gone. You sound thoroughly miserable. Fitting.
>Connie’s frown deepens, and she puts a hand on your shoulder.
>”...Miss Penny. I heard… and saw… someone fall from the roof just now. Did…”
>Oh hell. Deny, deny, deny...
>”...did I see it? Yeah… it… it was Jerry.”
>Why the fuck did you say that?
>”Did you push him off?”
>”No, ma’am, he… he…… he walked off himself.”
>You shudder and… sob. You feel your eyes go, uh, blue? They've never done that before...
>The wolf now wraps her arms around you gently.
>”I’m… sorry you had to see that, Miss Penny.”
>You shudder at the mental image of Jerry's broken body. 
>Why can't you get it out of your head?
>”I've seen… things… Inspector… terrible, awful things… B-but us androids… We're supposed to be fixable… but nothing can fix Jerry being gone.”
>You shake even harder. W-why do you feel so cold?
>”...I'll need to close up for the day, I guess. Let the pigs crawl around and do their thing.”
>The Inspector keeps you in a hug. 
>”Would you like to come back with me to my office?”
>You shake your head and pry yourself away. 
>”No, thanks. I.. I just need a fucking drink.”
>As the wolf follows, you walk over to the bar, staring down at the floor. When you arrive, you don't even look up; you just order.
>”Yeah, just get me the usual, Je-”
>A choking sob ends your sentence before you can finish accidentally talking to the dead man.
>Alyssa, bless her, looks legitimately concerned.
>”...you okay, Boss? You don't look good at all.”
>”I-I’m fine. Really.”
>”You're shaking like a leaf, your eyes are blue, and you're fighting back sobs. You are not fine, sweetie.”
>You slam a fist on the bar, attempting to muster up any of your intimidation factor.
>”JUST! ...g-give me my drink, please.”
>Rather than comply, your employee steps out from behind the counter and wraps her arms around you. God, she's soft.
>”Boss, I heard what happened. I'm real sorry about it, too. I, uh… wasn't expecting the stress to get to you this bad, though.”
>”Ha… me neither, fluffy. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I've never felt this way before.”
>”What way?”
>”Like I wanna cry.”
>Alyssa continues to console you. 
>”How about you go home, boss. Let me and Dub finish up here. You've been through a lot.”
>”N-nah… I've got a lot of work to do.”
>”Boss. You need to take better care of yourself than that. You're so stressed that you're shaking… you can barely get a sentence out without wheezing or sobbing… and you look so miserable it's heartbreaking. Please take the day off. Work can wait; your feelings can't.”
>”Alyssa, babe, I can't just take off because I'm feeling a little off.”
>The fluffy cat actually narrows her eyes at you a little. Great; Alyssa’s hard to handle when she gets feisty... 
>You really don't feel like arguing right now.
>”...fine, fine. I'll go home, if that makes you happy.”
>She smiles and nods.
>”Thank you. Have a good rest of your day, Boss.”
>”Yeah, yeah… thank you, Alyssa. You h-have a good one too.”
>You slowly trudge out of your casino and down the street. 
>Fuck the limo. You need to make a stop before you arrive at your destination. 
>The bells on the door ring as you enter the small liquor store. 
>You'd never be caught dead in a place like this: where the common drunkard and lowlifes get their shit. But at this point you need some strong stuff ASAP.
>Especially since being a droid means the weaker shit doesn't do anything for you.
>You slam the butt of the bottle onto the checkout counter. 
>”One bottle of Turkey and a pack of Newports… NOW...
>The cashier, a black fox woman, stares at you with sad eyes.
>”...heh. You look like you're having a hell of a day.”
>”Yeah, whatever. Just ring me up.”
>”Alright, alright… just saying. I've had my fair share of bad days too.”
>She winces as her tail thrashes around somewhat painfully, but returns to speaking as if nothing happened.
>”...say, don't I know you from somewhere? You're… Penny, right? From the Lucky Cat?”
>Shit. You oughta have known better than to make yourself the mascot all those years ago. You may have changed the signs, but some people apparently don't forget that kinda shit.
>”Yeah… that's me.”
>”Ha. Well, your situation can't be ALL that bad, can it? You've got a pretty good job for yourself.”
>”Yeah, well I watched a man fucking kill himself today, so shut your damn mouth.”
>Without missing a beat, the fox lets off a hollow laugh.
>”I've got you beat there, I KILLED a man, ages ago.”
>”...”
>”And I'll do you even better. He was my fucking fiancée.”
>”...shit, lady. I didn't know. Sorry.”
>”It’s fine. Just… it bugs the hell out of me to see someone that won't talk about their problems. That doesn't accomplish jack shit. I've found that people will share their feelings if I go first. Or, in your case, challenge them to one-up me.”
 >...well damn. Looks like you're dealing with a regular Sigmund Freud here.
>”Anyway. Let me just ring you out, ma’am.”
>She does just that, then stops you as you go to walk off.
>”Hey. Life isn't easy, Miss Penny. If you ever need someone to just talk to, give me a call.”
>She hands over a black business card with a phone number on it in white. There's no name or anything.
>”Uh… thanks.”
>She nods, then turns to the next customer as if nothing unusual happened.
>You continue down the street and tear open the pack of cigarettes. 
>It's a damn good thing you never took out that little homemade lighter you put into your middle finger. 
>You quickly light a cig and take a deep hit. God, it's been ages since you've last smoked anything but those phony cigars in your office. The menthol rolls down into your synthetic lungs and you hate yourself just a little less. 
>You know you are just going to get yelled at even more if you keep going this way. Why the fuck are you at his front porch? You don't really even know each other that well. 
>Why the fuck are you knocking on his front door? Why are you standing there, a shivering mess of a person...
>As he opens the door, you take another long pull and pop open the bottle of bourbon. He stares at you as you audibly gulp down a few mouthfuls of the offensive liquid. 
>”Hey, Jeff. Uh, here's a bottle. For the one I took.”
>He stares through you with a gaze full of both pure awe and hatred. 
>”What in the hell are you doing here?”
>Despite your artificial stomach's protests, you take another sip of the bourbon. 
>”I have… no one to… talk to… and you were the only one th-”
>Jeff interrupts your babble. 
>”You literally called him worthless, Penny. After SHOOTING HIM IN THE FUCKING HEAD.”
>He's shouting right in your face. 
>”You literally said that you didn't care if he could be repaired! You're a fucking lunatic! Someone should put you down like the damn monster you are!”
>You stare at him silently. You expect your anger to flare up any second now.
>What you don't expect is to literally fall flat on your face into a sobbing heap.
>”Do it then!”
>Still lying on your face, you shakily whip out your trademark H&K and put it next to your temple. 
>”You're right, Jeff! I'm a psychotic m-monster! So fucking end it. END MY MISERABLE LIFE!”
>He takes the gun from your hand and tosses it into the living room. 
>”You’re a fucking nut-job, Penny. And I know I'm an asshole. I've been an asshole all my life. But I'm no killer.”
>You can't muster up any response, nor the will to peel your face from the ground. You just tremble pathetically.
>”...”
>You hear him sigh and walk away. He eventually returns and sits next to you, cupping a hand under your chin and making you look up.
>”Hey. Drink this.”
>You take a sip from the shot glass he holds up to your mouth, then collapse again. You feel warm all over, and stop shaking.
>”Th-thanks.”
>”Whatever. So why did you come to me anyway? Surely you've got people that actually LIKE you.”
>”Yeah, well you're fucking wrong there. Even I don't like me. You just happened to be close. So like it or not, I'm here.”
>”You think I'm gonna just let you stay here? After all the hell you've put me through?”
>”For free? Hell no. That's why I brought this.”
>You fish out a couple hundred dollar bills and toss them at him, again not looking up.
>”There. Consider that your fucking bonus.”
>”...”
>He takes the money, and you keep talking.
>”Rather you know it or not, Jeff, you don't HAVE to be an asshole. Alyssa told me that you felt bad about hurting Frankie’s feelings. I also know you told Bill he had the day off so he didn't freak out about getting shot. Under all that jackassery, I think you could be a half-decent son of a bitch. If you would just pull your head out of your ass, that is. You work hard, and that's a damn good quality to have.”
>You inhale deeply, then breathe a long, heavy sigh. Why the hell are you venting all this shit on him?
>More importantly, why can't you stop?
>”I just want you to change, dammit. There's no sense in someone like you being such a bastard. Dammit, I like you, Jeff.”
>”.......”
>”You like me?”
>You try to keep yourself from blushing too badly, but your face feels pretty damn warm, and it's definitely not just the alcohol. 
>”That's between you and me, numbnuts. Now pass me the bottle. My mom didn't raise a bitch.”
>You as the day wears on, you both get increasingly intoxicated. The cigarette butts lie in a small pile on Jeff's living room table. 
>You tell Jeff everything you know about Jerry. From his first days on the job to how great he was actually at bartending. He really did have a knack at mixing drinks. 
>He didn't really start going downhill until after the third time you shot him. Frankie said… some shit you don't even remember. You ain't good with all that techno speak. But whatever, basically he ended up with a hell of a lot of shakes and twitches. Almost as if you gave him Parkinson's. 
>After that, even his slightest mistakes would set you off. They weren't even his fault really. Hell, they're basically your fault.
>But for some reason, you always got mad at him. Even knowing that he was a damn good bartender before you started playing with his life.
>You don't really know why that is, yourself. Not like he was a dick or anything. Jerry was always a real nice guy.
>You suppose that's why his speech hit so fucking hard.
>You know you'll never find an android as nice or as good of a bartender like he was. 
>As you've shared your experiences with Jerry and his time at the casino, Jeff has been next to you the whole time. It's actually pretty nice having him listen to your stories you've had with Jer.
>Seems that booze mellows him out a bit too. 
>”It's a shame it's come down to this. I'm not going to tell anyone about this still, because I'm not a rat. But I think that this is a good wake-up call. Maybe you can turn the casino around from this.”
>”...you really think some bitch like me can change?”
>”Well hey. You said I can change. If that's true, I don't see why you can't.” 
>You stare down into the glass in your hand, looking at your warped reflection in the booze. You finally feel a smile coming on.
>”....thanks, sweetheart.”
>”Don't mention it, Boss…. Oh, and Penny?”
>”Yea?”
>”It's okay. I REALLY like Otherworlders. You know.”
>You swear you're not blushing. 
>”Oh, shut the fuck up, you. Lemme use your bed for the night. I'm too drunk to walk home.”
>”I didn't think droids GOT drunk.”
>”Well, we do, wiseass. Just takes stronger stuff.”
>He laughs and slaps you on the back with a metallic CLANG.
>”Alright, fine. Go sleep it off.” 
>You fall into his bed and hear the springs creak under your heavy steel frame. God, you hope this thing doesn't break. That'd be the cherry on top of this shit sundae.

Chapter 7: Lucky Break

>Shortly after you close your bedroom door, you hear a loud CRACK, then a deafening, room-shaking THUD. You swear and throw the door open, seeing Penny fast asleep on your now-ruined bed.
>...thinking on it, you really wouldn't mind sharing the bed with her… She is a pretty attractive woman. 
>Buuuut, you'd rather not run the risk of her cutting your balls off if she wakes up and sees you in bed with her. 
>Guess it's the couch tonight.
>And you were really looking forward to a good night's rest. Oh well, hopefully Penny won't be too hard on you tomorrow. 
>Especially since you'll both probably be nursing a hell of a hangover.
>You grumble and get ready for bed, then settle in on your shitty couch. You've always hated this thing… you luckily manage to fall asleep quickly, anyway.

>...and wake up almost as quickly, it feels like. How the hell is it already 10 AM?
>Wasn't it like, 11 when you went to bed?
>You creep into your bedroom to find that Penny is still out cold. 
>Fuck. You should really wake her up so you can both get to the casino. 
>You creep over into the bathroom and swallow a couple aspirin dry. As you peek back at your boss you notice something kind of funny. 
>Her left arm is bent almost in an L shape. It's almost as if it's the pull-down bar on those old-timey slot machines. 
>...you glance at the reels embedded in her “collarbone.”
>You wonder if moving her arm would wake her up. You’d rather not wake her up by shouting at her or shaking her…
>”Pssst! Penny! I-It's time to wake up! We're both late for work!”
>Damnit. Whispering isn't helping. Looks like you're going to have to do this the old fashioned way... 
>Fortunately, you also take the time to move her pistol out of reach as you gently grab her hand and pull it down…..
>There's a loud ratcheting sound, then those reels on her chest begin spinning. She's still asleep, though.
>Eventually, each one stops with a sharp CLICK.
>7-7…
>Wait, what actually happens if you hit-
>7!
>There's a loud, peppy jingle as the slots flash brightly. Penny’s eyes fly wide open instantly.
>”W-what the… Jeff? Wha-”
>Then another sound……… Something you'd never thought you'd ever imagine hearing.
>Penny wails in ecstasy as she begins to squirm in bed. 
>What the hell?
>....Oh….. OH……
>You just gave your boss an orgasm by running her slots. 
>You try to not notice the growing wet spot on her slacks…
>And are those casino coins running down and out of her pants legs? 
>You try and fail to avert your gaze as she pants and moans loudly, drowning out the jackpot sounds of her slots.
>Eventually, she seems to catch her breath.
>It's several minutes after that before you even move. You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding. 
>”Uhhhhhhh…… G-good mornin’, boss?”
>Your employer glares at you with both a mix of anger and hunger. 
>”Jeff Brown… What in the FUCK are you doing!?”
>Spaghetti flies out of your pockets at the speed of sound while you try to salvage the situation. 
>”I was… I was just trying to wake you up, Penny! I swear! I didn't know that your slots got your rocks off too!”
>She looks pissed, but… eventually breaks into laughter.
>”I guess I can't really STAY mad at you for, uh, givin’ me a little relief~ ...just WARN a gal next time, wouldja?”
>”R-right. Sorry.”
>”Heh, it's fine. Lemme go clean up, and we'll head to work.”
>She slowly, shakily rises from bed, coins falling from her pantlegs.
>You lend her an extra towel and let her go into the bathroom to sort herself out. You'll probably have to swing by her place so she can change into a fresh set of clothes... 
>She didn't actually pick any of the coins up that, uh…. Fell out (?) of her…..
>Curiosity burns at you like a kerosene-fueled flame…
>You pick one of the coins off your bedsheets….
>It's wet….
>Are you seriously about to go there?
>.......
>Fuck it. Yes, you are. 
>You give it a lick…
>...... Yup. Tastes like pussy. 
>You turn around to see your boss eyeing you from a little crack in the doorway. You can feel her smug, shit-eating grin from where you stand. 
>”Don't worry, Jeff. I'll let you keep that one as a souvenir~”
>You dart out of your bedroom with your face burning madly. Penny’s laugh chases you into the living room. She eventually emerges, bearing her usual grin.
>”Alright, let’s go hit my place first. I'm gonna need a fresh suit since SOMEBODY got this one all… wet~”
>You nod and sheepishly follow her out of your apartment, still blushing madly.
>Surprisingly, it's not a very far walk to a very swanky building. Once you step inside, you're taken aback by how fancy the decor in the lobby is.
>The receptionist smiles at your boss, but keeps darting her eyes over to you, looking concerned.
>”Good morning, Miss Penny!”
>”Mornin’. How you doing?”
>”Fine, fine. I see you have a… guest.”
>The woman glances at you pointedly. Penny looks over at you, specifically at your work getup. It's okay for your work at the casino, but not remotely snazzy enough for a place like this.
>The android narrows her eyes and looks back to the receptionist.
>”Yeah? So what.”
>”Well…”
>She leans in and “whispers”, clearly intending for you to hear it.
>”...are you sure this is the type of company you want to bring around here?”
>Penny bares her steel teeth almost instantly. Her tone stays polite, but barely hides venom.
>”Well, Karen, I don't think it's any of your fucking BUSINESS what company I keep. Jeff happens to be an employee of mine, and he's accompanying me to get some errands done. Isn't that right, Mr. Brown?”
>”....uh, y-yeah.”
>”Yeah. So, uh, butt out.”
>”Well… y-you see… I just…”
>”Yeah, yeah, save it. Have a good day, Karen.”
>Penny leads you to the elevators, grinning the moment her back is to the still-stammering receptionist.
>”I hate that bitch so much. Thanks for giving me an excuse to go off on her.”
>”...no problem?”
>With that, neither of you say another word until the elevator stops…
>...at the top floor.
>”What the fuck, you live in the penthouse?!”
>”Yeah? I'm good with money, numb-nuts. It's what I was built to be good with.”
[https://youtu.be/JwhwTM0yMtA]
>You step out of the elevator and into the absolute swankiest apartment you've ever seen.
>Penny’s got this place decorated in a really stylish, modern fashion. You'd never guess this apartment belonged to a foul-mouthed, snarky slot machine.
>Looks more like the kinda place you'd expect some millionaire investor to have.
>A huge window shows off the entire city of Elsewhere. It's bustling today, with countless cars and people everywhere.
>She's even got a bunch of those shitty abstract paintings hanging up. 
>Penny strolls past a flatscreen TV hanging over a fireplace, looking over her shoulder at you.
>”Make yourself comfy; I shouldn't be long.”
>Without much else to do, you wander over to the kitchen and grab yourself a glass from the cupboard. 
>What do androids drink out of the fridge…?
>You open the refrigerator doors and, for some reason, are surprised. 
>No 5W-20 oil here. Just some orange juice, champagne, and an assortment of red wines. 
>You pour a small amount of O.J. out for yourself and take a seat in her living room. 
>The couch is amazingly soft and comfortable, especially compared to the piece of shit you have at home. You could sit here allll day.
>You lazily watch the cars go by outside and drain your glass, only for Penny’s voice to chime in from behind you.
>”W-well, uh. Turns out that suit was my last clean one. I haven't been to the dry cleaners’ in a bit. So, uh… how does this look?”
>You turn around and immediately drop the glass. It thankfully lands on the couch safely.
>Penny is standing there, blushing, in a VERY tight red dress with a ridiculously low neckline.
>She fidgets with her bowtie a little and clears her throat.
>”I-is it too much? I haven't worn this thing in years.”
>You swallow audibly. 
>”U-uh, I, uh…”
>Your boss sighs. 
>”I knew I wouldn't be able to pull this off again. I feel so ridiculous wearing this stupid thing…”
>You quickly stand up. 
>”N-no! It looks great!... Y-you look…. Great…. But there's one thing…”
>You shuffle over to her and gently lay your hands on her shoulders. 
>”Let me fix this one thing for you.”
>You untie her bowtie and set it on a glass end table next to you. Her small slots are now on complete display. The lights inside her give them a faint incandescent glow. 
>”There.”
>She stands silently, staring down at you with an unreadable face.
>”...do you know how long it's been since I went without that?”
>”...well-”
>”It's been twenty fuckin’ years. For two damn decades, I've worn that bowtie every single day, all day. I've always felt like I needed it.”
>A little smile crosses her face, with none of the usual smug, snarky nature behind it.
>”But, y’know something, Jeff? I think you’re onto something here. Thanks.”
>Without another word, she takes your hand and leads you back down into the elevator and to the lobby. 
>Karen’s eyes bug out at the sight of Penny’s dress, but she doesn't dare say a word. Your boss grins even more smugly than usual as you pass.
>From there, it's off to the casino for the both of you.

>When you arrive at work, everyone’s waiting in the lobby. Dub, Trip, Alyssa, and the other various employees are all nervously standing or sitting around.
>The fluffy bartender immediately runs up, only to stop dead at the sight of Penny.
>”Oh, uh, h-hi, Boss. We were starting to worry about you guys! We haven't even opened for the day yet.”
>”You fellas waited on little ol’ me and Jeff?”
>”Y-yes ma'am.”
>Penny smiles and pulls Alyssa into a hug, much to the cat’s surprise.
>”Thanks, sweetheart. You guys take it easy, we'll open up in a bit, alright? Shit’s been rough these last few days.”
>Dub meanders over, scratching his head.
>”You, uh… you feelin’ alright, Boss?”
>”Yeah. Yeah I am, big guy. Hell, I feel better than I have in a while, actually.”
>”That’s, uh… good. ...that's a nice, uh, dress, too-”
>He cuts himself off with a “YIP!” as Trip grabs an ear and leads him away.
>The rest of the staff calmly scatter.
>Penny turns to you now.
>”Hey Jeff. Don't forget, you still gotta clean up here.”
>”No problem. I'll have it done in no time.”
>”You sure about that? Frankie asked to have you take another look at her shop.”
>..fuck.
>You begin to walk to one of the supply closets to gather your usual cleaning supplies when you feel a metallic hand on your back.
>”If you do find yourself with some free time, you should come into my office so we can… find you a more suitable position in this organization~ If you steal my heart, I just might have to keep you here for good! That's one BIG debt to pay off, honey.”
>You're really not sure if she's jerking your chain or being serious about it, but you wouldn't mind getting a promotion… Or at least hammering out a deal for an actual form of employment. 
>She winks and grins.
>”...of course, FIRST, you gotta go clean up Frankie’s place. She told me she had to ransack the shop looking for… well, you know who.”
>”Yeah… I'm going.”
>She pats you on the back.
>”That’s the spirit. ...and hey. Last time I talked to Frankie, she said she was gonna try something new. I'd really appreciate it if you could uh, I dunno… give the ol’ gal a compliment. She really needs it.”
>”But-”
>”But nothin’. I don't care if she looks so bad you wanna fucking puke. Tell her she looks nice.”
>”...okay.”
>”Attaboy! Get in there, tiger.”
>With that, your boss heads off to her office, whistling.
>You swallow nervously and set off to the pit of misery that is Frankie’s chop shop…
>...as usual, it's pitch black in here. You can hear the mechanic’s usual raspy breathing in the darkness.
>”Uh, hey, Frankie! How ya doing?”
>Her huge eyes open up in front of you.
>”...oh, it’ssssss you.”
>”Yeah, it's me.”
>You think back to what Alyssa told you…
>...shit, there's only one thing you can do to make up for hurting her feelings.
>”Hey Frankie. I'm sorry about what I said before. You ain't a monster. If anyone here is, it's me. You're a damn good mechanic, and I'm glad to be working with ya.”
>Her eyes widen.
>”R-reeeeally?”
>”Yeah. Really.”
>She looks away, then rolls her eyes back towards you.
>”...Jeff, can you, uh… sssssshine your flassssshlight on meeee? I want to ssssshow you sssssomething.”
>”Sure?”
>You comply with the lizard’s demand.
>Instead of her usual grease-stained, tattered jumpsuit, the huge mechanic is clad in a surprisingly immaculate dress shirt and slacks.
>She actually looks… pretty good.
>”Th-the Bossssss bought me a new outfit or two… a couple yearssss ago. Thought I'd finally try one on.”
>She faintly blushes.
>”D-do I look… pretty?”
>When Penny told you to compliment Frankie, you expected to be lying through your teeth. But, you're completely honest when you say:
>”Absolutely.”
>Her jaw drops.
>”D-do you reeeeally mean it?!”
>”Yep, I really do. You clean up really nicely, Frankie.”
>”E-eheheheh… thanksssss.”
>You turn your light away from her and get back to cleaning up. It doesn't take long at all. Seems that she did a lot of the work before you got here.
>When you finish up, you tell Frankie goodbye and return to the casino floor.
>Penny is sitting at the bar, looking frustrated with an employee, apparently Jerry’s replacement. You rush over.
>”No, you dumbass, you mix ‘em EVENLY!”
>”I-I don't understand what that means!”
>She snarls and reaches for her holster, but you clap a hand on her shoulder.
>”Hey, Pen…. Everything okay?”
>With her teeth still bared, she takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. She repeats the process a few times, then takes her hand away from the gun.
>”Yeah… Everything's okay. Just a new hire that's having some trouble learning how to mix drinks.”
>You step behind the counter and gently take the mixers away from the new employee. 
>”So, bud. What'cha making?”
>His eyes widen in fear. 
>”Uh. To be honest? No idea.”
>You sigh in exasperation. 
>”Look, dude. Do you even drink?”
>He looks around nervously, obviously debating whether to answer truthfully or not. Penny gently nods, looking much calmer.
>”N-not really?”
>”Well that's your problem. You can't know if your mixes are right if you don't even know what you're doing. Look. I'll show you a simple drink.”
>You toss some gin and ginger beer together with a slightly generous spritz of lime juice. 
>It all goes in a copper cup you keep chilled in the freezer and stir it together with a tiny plastic stirring rod. 
>You do the same to a second cup and slide it over to Penny. 
>”London Mule. Very easy to make and very delicious I might add. Very easy going on your palate and won't distract your tastebuds from your meal.”
>Penny looks at you with keen interest as she takes a sip from the cup you gave her. An approving smile crosses her face.
>”Very good, Mister Brown. Keep this up and I just might keep you in my private bar to mix me some of your favorites~”
>She glances over at the new hire. 
>”If you don't figure this shit out by the end of this week, I'm putting you on guard duty with Dub. He'll make a man out of you.”
>The rookie nods somewhat nervously, but you throw a reassuring arm around him.
>”Hey man, Dub may be tough looking, but I think you'll get along with him fine if it comes to that. Hang in there, newbie.”
>”O-okay. Thanks.”
>”No problem.”
>Penny drains the rest of the Mule, then stands and stretches.
>”Keep at it, Tommy. I gotta good feeling you'll surprise me later.”
>She heads off towards her office, beckoning you along. As you follow, she whispers.
>”Hey. Thanks for that.”
>”For what, the drink?”
>”No, dummy. Keeping me from makin’ another mistake.”
>”Don't mention it. You got me to go in there and apologize to Frankie, after all.”
>”Awwww, you did? That's good. I just expected ya to choke out a fake compliment.”
>”No, I didn't even have to do that. She actually looked nice.”
>”I knew she would; that's why I bought the shit. Now come on… I think we're gonna have to discuss that promotion a bit sooner than planned…”