I probably should have taken the rest of the day off.

  Instead, I went to work.

  What can I say, I kind of wanted to see everyone.

  Which only confirmed I was, officially, losing it.

  Vaarg glanced up with one eye from behind his clipboard as I walked in.

  “You’re -“

  “Early,” I cut him off.

  He grunted and slipped back behind his clipboard, nursing his mug of goo.

  “Just get back to -“

  “Aisle Three, yea-yea I know,” I cut him off again, this time the shit-eating grin plastered on my face.

  I think he may have snorted some of the goo.

  He covered it well with a cough.

  One of the cloaks from Aisle Two drifted around the corner.

  “Oh look, he is back,” it said, voice whispering between the fabric of its folds. “And he is so snarky. Bold, to cut off the Boss. Why I bet -.“

  I raised an eyebrow and removed the dust cloth, heading towards Aisle Two with purpose.

  The cloak shrieked and fled down the aisle.

  That’s right, I smiled in satisfaction.

  From within the depths of Aisle Three I heard Stupid shriek.

  I turned to see her careening down the aisle atop a barrel, her ears flopping wildly behind her.

  “Beeg!” She shrieked, somehow managing to wave while riding the barrel and counter-balancing her giant ears.

  I waved back.

  “No Beeg! Halp! Stupid needz halp!” she screamed.

  The barrel she was riding was painted red.

  Explosive.

  Oh no.

  Evernod save us all.

  Beside me, Vaarg looked up from his clipboard in exasperation.

  “Stupid, stop yelling!” He shouted.

  I could feel my head beginning to hurt.

  “Yeth! Sorry Boss!” Stupid stage-whispered back, still careening down the aisle.

  Right towards Vaarg’s counter.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  I admit it.

  I turned and ran for the door.

  I should have stayed home.

  I did not make it.

  —-

  The explosion catapulted me the rest of the way to the door.

  Which did not hurt nearly as badly as I expected.

  I appreciated that the store went through the effort to make the door softer.

  Even though I couldn’t hear a thing, I made sure to pat the door jamb.

  Priorities.

  I groaned as I slowly slid down the wall.

  Literally slid. The store had plastered the wall with something that looked suspiciously like goblin snot.

  Just not going to think about that.

  When I turned around I saw Ugly standing there.

  Staring at me.

  Like he’d just sneezed out a personal best - and was proud of it.

  I froze.

  Goblin.

  Sneeze.

  Magic.

  I looked down at myself in horror.

  “STUPID!!!!” Vaarg bellowed.

  “Boss!” Stupid shrieked, hanging from one of the rafters, what little hair she had been growing back now singed off once more.

  “Beeg,” Ugly groaned, slowly leaning back.

  “Ugly…please…no,” I whispered.

  Ugly sneezed again, blasting me into the wall and sandwiching me between this sneeze and the last.

  I dangled there helplessly, watching the chaos unfold.

  “Stupid, what are you doing?” Vaarg exhaled in frustration, his entire front counter obliterated.

  He still had his clipboard though.

  And his mug of unspilt goo.

  Even his name tag hadn’t moved.

  Because of course it hadn’t.

  Stupid swung her feet happily. “Stupid is helping!” She chirped.

  All of us stared at her.

  “Stupid, you know you aren’t supposed to touch the red barrels,” Ugly sighed.

  I saw two eyes watching from under a shelf on Aisle Eight.

  I squinted.

  It was It.

  With a bowl of popcorn.

  He smiled at me before turning back to watch with interest.

  I continued to hang helplessly.

  “No!” She shook her head emphatically. “Stupid isn’t suppose to touch the purple barrels!”

  I had never even seen a purple barrel.

  The idea kind of terrified me.

  Like maybe spatial rifts had rent reality the last time she touched one.

  “You aren’t supposed to touch the red nor purple barrels, Stupid,” Vaarg responded, setting his clipboard down to rub between his eyebrows.

  She just looked at him in confusion.

  “Or the yellow ones,” Ugly muttered under his breath.

  I wonder what color the soul pickle barrels are?

  “Just get down here so we can get this cleaned up,” Vaarg finished, turning to inspect his counter.

  “Yeth!” Stupid giggled, dropping from the rafters.

  I watched as she grabbed her ears like a parachute and drifted down.

  Like she had done this before. Like it was normal.

  I sighed, sliding down the wall slightly.

  The goblins, as one, proceeded to turn down Aisle Twenty-Five.

  Even Vaarg.

  Leaving me alone. With a war torn front counter.

  “…Guys?”

  A single piece of the countertop clattered to the floor beside me.