Mason North knew three things for certain:
1. If souls could physically wither and die, his had already decomposed.
2. His boss, Sharon, had to be a demon in human skin.
3. If he had to mop that floor one more time, he was going to scream.
But instead of screaming, he was wearing a giant giraffe head, slowly cooking to death inside the fuzzy costume. Somewhere along the way, his life had turned into a joke, and no one had told him the punchline.
He leaned against the faded walls of 'Pets & Gags', a store that was somehow both a pet supply shop and a prank gift store. As if animals and rubber vomit had anything to do with each other.
And worst of all? The store was owned by the mother of his ex-girlfriend. Chloe.
Mason adjusted the oversized giraffe mascot head he was being forced to wear for the day.
The store was running a "Pet Jungle" promo, and his boss thought making him stand outside in a full giraffe suit would "boost traffic."
Spoiler alert: It didn't.
Every time someone walked by, Mason gave the sad half-hearted wave of a man who knew his life had hit rock bottom.
A kid on a scooter zoomed by. "Hey, Mr. Giraffe! You suck!" the kid yelled as he sped off, cackling like a little goblin.
Mason sighed heavily, the sound muffled by the suffocating giraffe head. This was his life now. A 22-year-old college dropout, sweating under a costume, working at the worst store imaginable.
The worst part of the job wasn't even the costume. It was the people—specifically, Chloe's family.
Chloe's mom, Sharon, ran the store like a dictator. She had a sixth sense for slacking off and always caught Mason the moment he even thought about pulling out his phone.
"Mason, sweetie!" Sharon's voice called from the back. "Why don't you stop scaring the customers and mop the floor again, hm? It's looking a little grimy."
'Again?!' He had mopped the damn floor thrice already!
But what could he do? Say no? Not if he wanted to keep what little money this job offered.
He dragged himself back into the store, still wearing the giraffe head because why not? At this point, his pride was dead and buried.
He grabbed the mop, dunked it into the filthy water bucket, and swirled it around. The faint stench of wet dog food clung to everything in the store, the kind of smell that sticks to your clothes and soul.
'Just a few more hours,' he told himself. 'Just a few more miserable hours.'
As Mason shuffled around the store, the bell above the entrance jingled. He turned, and in walked Chloe, looking like she had stepped off the cover of some lifestyle magazine.
Shiny hair, expensive bag, and a phone glued to her hand like it was a natural extension of her arm. Her sleek blazer and branded shoes looked expensive enough to pay Mason's rent for four months.
She walked up to him, arms crossed and a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"Mason," she greeted, her tone laced with mock surprise. "Didn't expect to find you still here. You know, I thought by now you'd... I don't know, moved on?"
He wanted to crawl into a hole. Or at least shed the giraffe head. But no, Sharon had said the head "builds character." So here he was, standing there in full giraffe glory, while Chloe radiated success.
Mason forced a half-smile. "Yeah, well, I've been… busy." He motioned to the store around him, though they both knew it was less 'busy' and more 'stuck.'
She laughed, a bit too loudly. "Oh, right, busy in the family pet shop. You do realise there are, like, other jobs out there, don't you?"
He clenched his jaw, feeling the familiar sting of her words. Chloe had always known how to push his buttons, and she seemed to be enjoying every second of it.
"Well," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady, "Some of us have commitments, you know? Not everyone's life is a series of big breaks and promotions."
Chloe raised an eyebrow, looking around the shop like it was some relic from the past. "Commitments? Mason, this isn't a commitment. It's a cage." She laughed, shaking her head. "I mean, don't you ever think about what could have been? Look at me—I'm working with executives now, doing real work that actually matters. In fact, I just got promoted."
'Nobody f*cking asked you, you two timing b*tch!'
Mason tried to shrug it off, but her words hit hard. Before he could muster a response, the door opened, and in walked Chloe's boyfriend.
If Chloe was polished, this guy was gleaming. His suit was designer, his smile confident, and he walked like he owned the room.
He eyed Mason like he was examining a stain on his suit jacket.
"Ah, Mason," the guy sneered, "Chloe's told me all about you. The old high school flame, still hanging around her family's little shop." He chuckled, clearly entertained by the idea. "You know, it's kind of sad. Like a dog waiting for its owner to come back."
Mason's face reddened with anger, but he didn't have a chance to reply.
Chloe put a hand on her boyfriend's arm, smirking slightly as they shared a look. "C'mon, babe. Let's go somewhere a little more… refined."
They turned and walked out, laughter ringing in Mason's ears as the door shut behind them, leaving him alone with the aisles of pet food and chew toys.
He just stood there, the weight of her words pressing down, making his shoulders sag.
Boom—CRACK!
Lightning boomed overhead and bright flashes illuminated the dim store. Mason stared around in a daze. He hadn't even noticed when it had begun to rain.
Just as he was about find a seat and read some webnovels, Sharon, his boss, stuck her head out from the back room.
She clicked her tongue, giving Mason a once-over. "Mason, honey," she called out, her voice carrying that hint of sarcasm she never quite hid. "Why don't you head outside? Maybe try and pull in some customers with that charming face of yours." She made a mock attempt at a smile, snapping her gum with a loud pop.
Mason couldn't believe his ears. She wanted him to go out in the rain?! Before he could respond, Sharon waved him off and disappeared into the back.
Sighing, Mason trudged outside in his giraffe costume, and within seconds, it hit him—the rain.
Not a gentle drizzle, not even a solid downpour, but a monsoon-like flood crashing from the sky as if the universe had a personal vendetta against him.
Droplets pounded his giraffe-covered head, soaking through the plush fabric in seconds, making the bright yellow spots on his costume sag and darken like blotchy stains.
He knew the flimsy little giraffe-head hood wouldn't help him in the slightest.
He glanced around in disbelief, watching the downpour turn the pavement into a churning stream. The costume, now plastered to his skin, stuck to him like a second, soggy skin.
'What's next?' he thought miserably. 'I'm going to end up like one of those sidewalk puddles—washed away and forgotten.'
He let out a hollow laugh that quickly turned into a cough as more rain dripped into his mouth.
'Let's be real here. I could be struck by lightning right now, and the only thing left behind would be a soggy giraffe head and a memory.'
The rain intensified, pounding down harder, and Mason shivered, the damp coldness sinking through every inch of his costume.
'Is that it, huh? Lightning? Is that the grand finale? Just end it already!'
And then, as if to answer his challenge, a sudden CRACK tore through the sky, splitting the clouds with blinding light.
Before he could even register it, a lightning bolt shot down, hitting him square on the giraffe-head hood.
The world exploded in white light, and Mason's body jolted, his vision flickering, his ears buzzing like a broken speaker.
It was like his entire world was spinning. He wanted to scream, but his mouth wouldn't move. He couldn't feel his lips, couldn't hear anything over the buzzing in his head.
Gradually, the light faded, but the world around him now had a strange, shimmering blue glow. And then, as if through a crackling radio, a faint voice echoed in his head:
[Ding! Perfect Timing System Initializing…]
Mason blinked, his heart hammering, barely daring to believe it. He didn't know what was happening, but whatever it was, it felt both terrifying and… strangely promising.
[Ding! Perfect Timing System Installed!]
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