I stood there frozen. I couldn’t decide if I was offended or proud that a haircut made such a difference.

  I settled on “grateful I hadn’t magically wiped myself from their memories by entering forbidden aisles”.

  Seemed like a good compromise.

  Vaarg shrugged. “Good for you. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I spluttered.

  “Beeg, all you do is eat, work, sleep and complain. It’s been months since you started working here. You can’t really blame me,” he scoffed.

  I can blame you if I want to, I fumed.

  And had it really been that long? It felt like a few weeks. A month at most…

  “BEEG!” Stupid shrieked, jumping up and down — her ears flailing hopelessly.

  Wha—?” I flinched. Somehow, Stupid always managed to be four times louder than her size allowed.

  “Beeg! Beeg! Can you teach me Cleaning Magic today?” She begged, her eyes the size of saucers. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw It perk up as well. Heck, even Vaarg was peeking over his clipboard.

  By the Ancients, they are serious.

  “It’s…not magic, Stupid,” I began.

  Then something hit me on the side of the head. I looked down.

  Popcorn. Weaponized popcorn was the culprit.

  There could be only one aggressor. I looked around, my eyes narrowing when I spotted It with a bowl filled with the offenders and a smug smile.

  My eyes narrowed further.

  “Every other idiot foolish enough to clean this store has died Beeg. Every single one,” he monotoned. “You are doing something.”

  Did he just call me an idiot? I sighed, somehow not surprised.

  “It’s really not —“ I began again.

  “Beeeeeeg,” Stupid whined, pulling on her ears. “Pleeeease? Stupid will teach Beeg sneeze magics?” She finished on an entirely too hopeful note.

  It sounded absurd, but It and Ugly had both learned it from her — making it a perfectly valid school of magic.

  But did I really want to be a practitioner of the cannonball sneeze?

  Not really. No.

  I sighed.

  “You can watch what I do in Aisle Three today,” I finally said.

  Stupid gasped, sprinting up to me and depositing a potato in my hand.

  “Thanks Beeg! Thanks for being Stupid’s Bestest Friend!” She beamed, skipping off to Aisle Three.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ____

  I watched in bemused exasperation as Stupid sprinted down the Aisle slapping shelves with a dusting cloth, screaming “POOF! EEZ CLEAN!” Every time she swatted something off the shelf.

  A tentacle. A pot. A cursed llama saddle that yodeled if I didn’t keep a piece of string attached to it. Don’t ask.

  Nothing was safe.

  At least the intention was there. Seeing the disaster she was making, I didn’t think I needed to worry about Stupid making the store a cleaner place any time soon.

  I did take too much glee listening to the fearful whispers leaking from Aisle Two.

  Something about “Cleaning Warlock” and “Apprentice”.

  I worked in a cursed store, for a Boss that could cast magic with no effort and every denizen here was terrified of my dust mop.

  I chuckled as Stupid grabbed a bottle off the shelf, threw it on the ground — breaking it, and then tossing the cloth over it.

  “Beeg!” She gasped, looking up at me, “Look! Mess is gone! Stupid has learned the Cleany Mageek!”

  Then she turned and scampered off, leaving the equivalent of a tornado behind her.

  At least the store was happy. As I began my disaster management, it gladly opened a hole for me to dump the mess down.

  “Thanks,” I whispered, the store creaking back. It even spurted a third candle so I could almost see clearly.

  That was a first.

  Half a shift and a whole lot of grumbling later had the Aisle starting to look presentable.

  “Hey, It?” I called. I had no idea if he was nearby, but figured I would try.

  “Newt, Beeg?” He responded. I spun to find him directly behind me, a dried newt held to my face.

  I had called for him and still my heart was in my chest.

  “Uh…thanks,” I gasped, tucking the lizard away. I would begin my Mr. Mekopolis truce arc later.

  It looked pleased, which made it a win in my book. After all, he didn’t need to know I wasn’t going to be the one eating it.

  “You called?” He monotoned, looking me over.

  “Yea, uh — do you think our name tags would be enough to get me into the Library? Specifically, the one in Uptown?” I asked, trying to keep my voice indifferent.

  “Why wouldn’t they?” He responded, doing a much better job with the indifferent vibe.

  Why would they, is what I wanted to ask. Why on earth would a name tag from a goblin shop unlock special places. That was the part that didn’t make sense.

  So why was It looking at me like I was a moron for asking.

  I just…sighed. “Thanks, It.”

  “Yup,” he responded, shuffling out of the Aisle.

  I watched him go with some degree of awe. I really didn’t get that guy.

  But now I know I can get into the library, I thought. I just need to figure out where said Library is. Then I have my next day off booked.

  I drew up short. I realized something. I hadn’t had a day off since I started working here. Not a single one. Unless you counted sleeping the day after a night shift or being sick.

  Actually…there might have been one, I thought, but the memory was so distant and fuzzy I couldn’t be sure it was real.

  And yet I was happy here. My freedom came with an attached name tag and unpaid overtime.

  I blinked at the realization.

  Right, so first I need to find the Library, and then get an actual day off. That’s going to be just great, I thought to myself. At least I had some semblance of a plan going.

  That, and I had decided I wanted to take Old Jenk up on his sword lessons.

  I stood there in the Aisle, grinning goofily as I dreamt of casting runes in one hand, cutting down foes with another.

  “Yep, it’s definitely Beeg. It’s in the eyes. Even with the haircut, you can tell nothing is going on behind them,” one of the cloaks from Aisle Two brought me back to reality.

  Thats it! I fumed. I’m going to ask special permission to clean Aisle Two.

  Tomorrow.

  I’d show them just what a “Cleaning Warlock” was capable of.

  By the time my shift was over, my Aisle was back to normal. I had spent an entire shift cleaning up a pointless mess left by Stupid. When I thought about it, that seemed to be what most of us spent our days doing.

  That… was a buffet’s worth of food for thought.