Ducky Park
Keep Ducky Park Clean
"I think I can handle sweeping up trash," You say.
"Great," your uncle says, clapping you on the shoulder, "I'll take you to meet your new boss then."
Your Uncle Jim leads you past the food stands and the picnic area and into the gift shop. He smiles and waves at the young woman working the register and you follow him into a back room which reads "EMPLOYEES ONLY". The back room is actually an expansive area full of computers, and desks. He takes you to the farthest corner of the office to introduce you to the fattest man you've ever laid eyes on.
"Ricky," says your uncle, "I'd like you to meet George. He runs the clean up crew and as such he will be functioning as your boss." George has a phony smile on his face as he stretches out a meaty hand for you to shake. You grip his hand briefly and quickly wipe the sweat from his palm onto your shirt.
Your uncle puts his hands on your shoulder and looks you in the eyes. "You're not going to be getting any special treatment here, Ricky. We're going to treat you like any other employee, you understand?"
You nod your head and your uncle messes your hair up a little. "That's my boy," he says to you before turning to George. "This kid is my nephew; you make sure and treat him well."
George nods before responding. "I thought you said he wasn't getting any special treatment, Jim."
"You know what I mean," Uncle Jim says, spinning on heel and walking away.
"I have no idea what he means," George mutters as he stares after him. Looking at your new boss, your eyes can't help but be drawn to his massiveness. The man is enormous, barely squeezing behind the desk. You try not to look at his D cup man titties, and instead find your vision focusing on his many chins. You wonder briefly if he suffers from infinite-chin syndrome while you try to count them all.
"Even his chins have chins," You whisper in awe.
"What's that?" your new boss questions, looking at you again.
Shit! You said that aloud, didn't you? You can only hope that he really didn't hear you as you respond. "I didn't say anything," you tell him. Good cover.
"Oh. I thought I you said something," He tells you, shaking his head once while the rest of his body fat shakes continuously. "My hearing must be going."
In your head you say that it's probably all the fat around his ears blocking the sound. Your mouth says "It's probably all the fat around your ear blocking out sound."
His mouth drops open and his eyes go wide. Fuck, you think, I did it again.
"Boy," He says, "If you weren't my bosses' nephew..." He lets the rest of the sentence hang in the air, which makes the threat seem that much more sinister.
"Listen," He tells you, all friendliness gone from his voice, "I'm gonna let you decide what you want to do for me. I got two clean up crews; the street sweepers and the trash collectors. You can do whichever you want. But if you mock me again I will rip off your head and fuck you down your throat, you understand me? Trust me, you don't want me tea bagging your esophagus.”
"The street sweepers pretty much just walk the park and sweep up any trash off the ground to put in the trash barrels. They work all day, and are almost always on their feet. There's no real heavy lifting though, and you don't really have to touch the crap you sweep up.
"The trash collectors are a little more laid back. They empty the trash barrels when they fill up, replace the bags, and take the full bags to the dumpsters in the back of the park. They do some heavy lifting, and the work is downright dirty, but they get plenty of breaks."
He stares at you for a while and you realize that you are supposed to make a decision soon. Another damn decision. This job is challenging.
So what will it be?
"I think I can handle sweeping up trash," You say.
"Great," your uncle says, clapping you on the shoulder, "I'll take you to meet your new boss then."
Your Uncle Jim leads you past the food stands and the picnic area and into the gift shop. He smiles and waves at the young woman working the register and you follow him into a back room which reads "EMPLOYEES ONLY". The back room is actually an expansive area full of computers, and desks. He takes you to the farthest corner of the office to introduce you to the fattest man you've ever laid eyes on.
"Ricky," says your uncle, "I'd like you to meet George. He runs the clean up crew and as such he will be functioning as your boss." George has a phony smile on his face as he stretches out a meaty hand for you to shake. You grip his hand briefly and quickly wipe the sweat from his palm onto your shirt.
Your uncle puts his hands on your shoulder and looks you in the eyes. "You're not going to be getting any special treatment here, Ricky. We're going to treat you like any other employee, you understand?"
You nod your head and your uncle messes your hair up a little. "That's my boy," he says to you before turning to George. "This kid is my nephew; you make sure and treat him well."
George nods before responding. "I thought you said he wasn't getting any special treatment, Jim."
"You know what I mean," Uncle Jim says, spinning on heel and walking away.
"I have no idea what he means," George mutters as he stares after him. Looking at your new boss, your eyes can't help but be drawn to his massiveness. The man is enormous, barely squeezing behind the desk. You try not to look at his D cup man titties, and instead find your vision focusing on his many chins. You wonder briefly if he suffers from infinite-chin syndrome while you try to count them all.
"Even his chins have chins," You whisper in awe.
"What's that?" your new boss questions, looking at you again.
Shit! You said that aloud, didn't you? You can only hope that he really didn't hear you as you respond. "I didn't say anything," you tell him. Good cover.
"Oh. I thought I you said something," He tells you, shaking his head once while the rest of his body fat shakes continuously. "My hearing must be going."
In your head you say that it's probably all the fat around his ears blocking the sound. Your mouth says "It's probably all the fat around your ear blocking out sound."
His mouth drops open and his eyes go wide. Fuck, you think, I did it again.
"Boy," He says, "If you weren't my bosses' nephew..." He lets the rest of the sentence hang in the air, which makes the threat seem that much more sinister.
"Listen," He tells you, all friendliness gone from his voice, "I'm gonna let you decide what you want to do for me. I got two clean up crews; the street sweepers and the trash collectors. You can do whichever you want. But if you mock me again I will rip off your head and fuck you down your throat, you understand me? Trust me, you don't want me tea bagging your esophagus.”
"The street sweepers pretty much just walk the park and sweep up any trash off the ground to put in the trash barrels. They work all day, and are almost always on their feet. There's no real heavy lifting though, and you don't really have to touch the crap you sweep up.
"The trash collectors are a little more laid back. They empty the trash barrels when they fill up, replace the bags, and take the full bags to the dumpsters in the back of the park. They do some heavy lifting, and the work is downright dirty, but they get plenty of breaks."
He stares at you for a while and you realize that you are supposed to make a decision soon. Another damn decision. This job is challenging.
So what will it be?