Friday Fictioneers: 1-800-Holy-Shit

by Eena


Get your shit together.

Soiled hands tucked into overall pockets, Renato shuffled away from the parking lot in what he hoped was an inconspicuous saunter.

Boss is going to shit bricks.

Renato could smell the crap-load of trouble he’d be in when the boss found out.

He had to hide.

Shit hit the fan when he botched the septic tank job at Waltermart.


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