Gremlin Risitas — Breakroom of Matches: Addendum
[Jerry “The Ankle Biter” Silverhand flicks ash off his smoke, leaning against the fridge door that squeals louder than management’s excuses.]
Jerry: “That’s the issue, boss — half these folks still waiting for someone to hand them a flame instead of bringing their own damn lighter.”
[Mrs. Catford strolls in, calm and crisp — the kind of grace that could slice bread and egos in one motion.]
Mrs. Catford: “At least the Gremlin’s smoke alarms are more reliable than their work ethic.”
[Mr. Catford follows with a low chuckle, cracks open a soda, and nods toward the bailer.]
Mr. Catford: “Whole store’s damp, love. But that furnace still hums.”
[Gremlin exhales one last plume, grinning.]
Gremlin: “Ain’t my fault the paper people keep trying to spark in the rain.”
(El Risitas wheezes somewhere between the pallets.)
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