Karl had barely recovered from Chillie Jean's MILF slander when his phone screen flickered again. The little animated menace was now leaning against a floating chat window, scrolling through his YoChat messages like she owned the place.
Karl's stomach dropped. "…What are you doing?"
Chillie Jean smirked, tapping the screen dramatically. "Oh, just peepin' the tragic reality of Karl's life."
Karl's face darkened. "You're reading my messages—?"
"Oh-ho, not just any messages." She waved the screen, showing a chat from some woman named Molly - Manager FFF.
Karl immediately recognized it.
It was the confirmation for his new job. He was starting work at FipFry Feast next Monday.
Chillie Jean gave him a look—the kind that said she was about to roast him into the afterlife. Then, with an exaggerated beat drop, she started rapping.
---
"Yo, yo, Karl, it's real, no cap,
That apron life? You 'bout to tap!
Stackin' trays, droppin' fries,
Flippin' grease under fluorescent skies!"
---
Karl groaned. "God damn it."
Chillie Jean spun around, pointing at him. "You're about to enter the ultimate NPC lifestyle, my guy."
Karl sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's just a part-time job. I need cash."
Chillie Jean raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. But this?" She dramatically waved the job message again. "This is the beginning. You're about to face the moment."
Karl frowned. "What moment?"
She smirked.
---
"Oh, Karl, you ain't ready, no lie,
That first shift? That first sigh?
When you stand at the counter, mind gone slack…
And hear: 'Sir, PUT THE FRIES IN THE BAG.'"
---
Karl nearly threw his phone. "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"
Chillie Jean cackled, spinning like she had just dropped the hardest diss track of the year.
Karl groaned, slumping back in his chair. "I hate you so much right now."
Chillie Jean wiped a fake tear. "Aww, Karl. You ain't even started yet, and you already sound like a fast-food veteran."
Karl shot her a glare. "I swear, if you say 'Welcome to FipFry Feast, may I take your order?', I'm factory-resetting this damn phone."
Chillie Jean leaned in, smirking.
"Oh, you know I'm saying it."
Karl exhaled, defeated.
Monday was going to be hell.
The night stretched on, the city outside Karl's window bathed in dim orange light. The occasional sound of distant cars hummed in the background, but inside Karl's cramped apartment, there was only one persistent noise:
Chillie Jean's nonstop rapping.
She had been going on and on ever since the FipFry Feast roast, dropping bars with no end in sight.
---
"Ayo, Karl, time's tickin' away,
Night creepin' in, ain't got much to say!
You could be grindin', makin' that dough,
But nah, here you sittin', movin' so slow!"
---
Karl groaned, flipping his phone face-down. "Oh, for fuck's sake, can you shut up for five minutes?!"
Chillie Jean didn't even hesitate. The moment he turned the phone over, she flipped back into frame, throwing up finger guns.
---
"Ohh, Karl, so mad, so stressed,
But let's be real, what's next?
You tryna sleep? Pfft, don't even pretend,
We both know how this night gonna end!"
---
Karl squinted. "What the hell are you even talking about?"
Chillie Jean leaned closer, her pixelated smirk widening.
---
"You gon' grab that phone, scrollin' down,
Eyes locked in, thumb goin' 'round.
Page to page, same old trap,
Till you blink and the sky turns black!"
---
Karl stared, his cigarette halfway to his lips. "Wait—are you saying I'm gonna doom scroll all night?"
Chillie Jean snapped her fingers. "Ayy, he gets it!"
Karl scoffed. "Bullshit. I have self-control."
Chillie Jean deadpanned. "My guy. You spent 47 minutes reading a comment war about pineapple pizza earlier."
Karl's eye twitched. "That was different."
---
"Nah, nah, Karl, same routine,
Late-night cycle, ain't pristine.
Doom scroll this, doom scroll that,
By the time you sleep? Brain's gone flat!"
---
Karl exhaled sharply. He hated how accurate she was. He knew he should just put his phone down and actually rest, but—
…But maybe just a quick check wouldn't hurt?
Chillie Jean immediately pointed at him like she read his mind.
---
"Ayy, see?! I knew it, caught you slippin'!
Karl can't sleep, now he back to clickin'!"
---
Karl groaned and shoved his phone under a pillow.
"I hate you."
Chillie Jean's muffled voice sang from under the pillow.
---
"Nahhh, Karl, you love me too,
Otherwise, what else you gonna do?"
---
Karl dragged his hands down his face.
This damn assistant was going to drive him insane.