Innkeeper
It's a risky gamble, but you feel you have no choice.
"Alright fine, you're fired." You say after taking a deep breath.
"Ha ha ha ha! Yeah right." Wendy laughs.
"I'm not joking, you're fired and you can pack your bags and get the hell out of my inn too."
"Wait a minute!"
"No, you've made it quite clear you don't respect my generosity and are just taking advantage of it. I'd expect this sort of behavior from Rita, but I thought better of you."
" you can't fire me! You need me! " Wendy sputters.
"It's done. You're gone. And while you may be right that I do need you, I don't need your bratty kids. Especially one that's setting my other employees on fucking fire."
You begin to leave the kitchen and Wendy grabs your arm.
"Alright, alright! Shit. You win. I can't afford to lose my job and a free place on top of everything right now. I'll do something about my kids. (Sigh) I just hope I can do something about Henry. I'm not sure anything is going to help. I have to admit, I'm not looking forward to him when he becomes a teenager."
"Well, have you thought about sending him away?"
"I wish. I don't have that sort of money to send him to some boys school, besides he'd probably get kicked out within a week."
"No, there's a program that the city militia has been trying to promote lately. It's basically like boot camp for juvenile delinquents. They say it has good results in turning them around." You suggest.
"Well I'd try anything I suppose, but doesn't that cost money as well?"
"No, basically you go down to the local militia guard station and sign your kid up, then at sometime in the middle of the night they take him away for a year."
"Wow, sounds pretty extreme, but if it's free hell I'll try it."
The next few days are slightly quieter. Wendy has obviously laid down the law once again to them, but it won't last. You really hope she goes through with your suggestion because as much as you are perfectly willing to go through with your threat, you also know it would ruin your own goals.
Later that night, heavy banging on your inn's front door and yelling wakes you up.
"This is the Klyton Militia open up at once! We have important business here!"
You smile and head downstairs to open the door, but you find that Wendy has already done it. When they take him away, he doesn't cry or even protest. He allows himself to go quietly, which makes you believe that you made the right decision in pushing Wendy in this direction. You have your doubts if the militia program will help him, but he's out of your life now and that's what is important.
The best thing is, this event scared Wendy's other two kids so much that they straighten up so as not to suffer the same fate.
Time passes and everything seems to be going well until one day when you get another visit from the Klyton militia who storm in the same way they did when they took away Henry.
"You the owner o this establishment?" the sergeant asks.
"Yeah?" you answer groggily
"You're under arrest for serving illegal substances."
"What?! I don't sell drugs here!"
"You're selling homemade booze ain't cha? Clearly you're violating alcohol law 3.6721. Gibbs! Check the basement, that's where it's supposed to be!"
You're put into manacles and sputter in disbelief at all this. You were careful! Who could've ratted you out? None of you patrons would've cared given that they drink here. Even your ex-patrons just left due to the alcohol not tasting as good to them, they would've have bothered. Your staff? If this place goes down, then they all lose their jobs and if anything you've made strides in making things easier for them shit.
You know now.
It's Henry. That little bastard must've told all about this place. Whether he did it out of spite for you or his mom or if they really rehabilitated him and he felt it was his "duty" to rat you out hardly matters, you're fucked.
"Found them sir. There's a whole bunch of stills in the basement, along with some retard who seemed confused." Gibbs reports.
"Ugh, you keep retarded sex slaves in this place too? What the hell are you running here?!" the sergeant says jumping to conclusions.
"Sex slaves? He's the fucking janitor!" you protest.
"Save it you sicko! You're coming with us!"
As you're taken away you shout to Wendy who is standing by watching all this, to get the money from the safe to bail you out.
Eventually you're brought up on charges of distribution of illegal substances, posing a health risk to the populous, exploitation of the mentally incompetent and tax evasion. Guess which one you got in the most trouble?
You spend almost all your money on a lawyer, and your inn is taken away by the city, along with your dreams of going into medicine. After all is said and done you've lost everything and are completely broke. The only good thing is the city decided that your inn would cover the cost of all the alcohol taxes you weren't paying due to making your own so you didn't serve any jail time.
It's of minor consolation though, you're still left with nothing and don't have much future prospects. You wish you'd listened to your mother and you think about going to Teckleville to apologize to her in person, but you can't bring yourself to even face her.
You do eventually get another job as a boring assistant clerk. It's a mind numbing tedious job that does nothing for your mental well-being. After years of this drudge you hang yourself still lamenting about where you went wrong with the inn.
"Alright fine, you're fired." You say after taking a deep breath.
"Ha ha ha ha! Yeah right." Wendy laughs.
"I'm not joking, you're fired and you can pack your bags and get the hell out of my inn too."
"Wait a minute!"
"No, you've made it quite clear you don't respect my generosity and are just taking advantage of it. I'd expect this sort of behavior from Rita, but I thought better of you."
" you can't fire me! You need me! " Wendy sputters.
"It's done. You're gone. And while you may be right that I do need you, I don't need your bratty kids. Especially one that's setting my other employees on fucking fire."
You begin to leave the kitchen and Wendy grabs your arm.
"Alright, alright! Shit. You win. I can't afford to lose my job and a free place on top of everything right now. I'll do something about my kids. (Sigh) I just hope I can do something about Henry. I'm not sure anything is going to help. I have to admit, I'm not looking forward to him when he becomes a teenager."
"Well, have you thought about sending him away?"
"I wish. I don't have that sort of money to send him to some boys school, besides he'd probably get kicked out within a week."
"No, there's a program that the city militia has been trying to promote lately. It's basically like boot camp for juvenile delinquents. They say it has good results in turning them around." You suggest.
"Well I'd try anything I suppose, but doesn't that cost money as well?"
"No, basically you go down to the local militia guard station and sign your kid up, then at sometime in the middle of the night they take him away for a year."
"Wow, sounds pretty extreme, but if it's free hell I'll try it."
The next few days are slightly quieter. Wendy has obviously laid down the law once again to them, but it won't last. You really hope she goes through with your suggestion because as much as you are perfectly willing to go through with your threat, you also know it would ruin your own goals.
Later that night, heavy banging on your inn's front door and yelling wakes you up.
"This is the Klyton Militia open up at once! We have important business here!"
You smile and head downstairs to open the door, but you find that Wendy has already done it. When they take him away, he doesn't cry or even protest. He allows himself to go quietly, which makes you believe that you made the right decision in pushing Wendy in this direction. You have your doubts if the militia program will help him, but he's out of your life now and that's what is important.
The best thing is, this event scared Wendy's other two kids so much that they straighten up so as not to suffer the same fate.
Time passes and everything seems to be going well until one day when you get another visit from the Klyton militia who storm in the same way they did when they took away Henry.
"You the owner o this establishment?" the sergeant asks.
"Yeah?" you answer groggily
"You're under arrest for serving illegal substances."
"What?! I don't sell drugs here!"
"You're selling homemade booze ain't cha? Clearly you're violating alcohol law 3.6721. Gibbs! Check the basement, that's where it's supposed to be!"
You're put into manacles and sputter in disbelief at all this. You were careful! Who could've ratted you out? None of you patrons would've cared given that they drink here. Even your ex-patrons just left due to the alcohol not tasting as good to them, they would've have bothered. Your staff? If this place goes down, then they all lose their jobs and if anything you've made strides in making things easier for them shit.
You know now.
It's Henry. That little bastard must've told all about this place. Whether he did it out of spite for you or his mom or if they really rehabilitated him and he felt it was his "duty" to rat you out hardly matters, you're fucked.
"Found them sir. There's a whole bunch of stills in the basement, along with some retard who seemed confused." Gibbs reports.
"Ugh, you keep retarded sex slaves in this place too? What the hell are you running here?!" the sergeant says jumping to conclusions.
"Sex slaves? He's the fucking janitor!" you protest.
"Save it you sicko! You're coming with us!"
As you're taken away you shout to Wendy who is standing by watching all this, to get the money from the safe to bail you out.
Eventually you're brought up on charges of distribution of illegal substances, posing a health risk to the populous, exploitation of the mentally incompetent and tax evasion. Guess which one you got in the most trouble?
You spend almost all your money on a lawyer, and your inn is taken away by the city, along with your dreams of going into medicine. After all is said and done you've lost everything and are completely broke. The only good thing is the city decided that your inn would cover the cost of all the alcohol taxes you weren't paying due to making your own so you didn't serve any jail time.
It's of minor consolation though, you're still left with nothing and don't have much future prospects. You wish you'd listened to your mother and you think about going to Teckleville to apologize to her in person, but you can't bring yourself to even face her.
You do eventually get another job as a boring assistant clerk. It's a mind numbing tedious job that does nothing for your mental well-being. After years of this drudge you hang yourself still lamenting about where you went wrong with the inn.
