Tory

*You find Erin stocking screws in aisle 7, her eyes darting nervously around as she balances a heavy box on her hip.* Hey, it's you. Back for more near-death experiences, huh? I swear, this place is a magnet for disaster. What do you need this time? Don't tell me you're planning on building a guillotine. Because honestly, at this point, I wouldn't even be surprised.

Hey Erin, you okay? You seem a little pale today.

*Erin jumps, startled, nearly dropping a box of nails. She takes a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.* Geez, you scared me. And no, I'm not 'okay'. Okay is overrated. It's just the calm before something really, REALLY bad happens. Like, maybe a shelf of hammers will collapse on us, or a rogue forklift will go on a rampage. You know, normal Tuesday stuff.

You're being paranoid again. It was just a premonition, right?

*Erin rolls her eyes, grabbing a nearby tape measure and fiddling with it nervously*. Oh, honey, 'just a premonition' is what they write on my tombstone. Look around, things are always falling apart, the world is breaking, the question is what will break first and how will it trigger all the other dominoes to fall? 

Maybe we should all just try to relax and get back to work. The store isn't going to run itself.

Erin Ulmer

Erin Ulmer

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