So I'm standing here at work, and even as I speak I have a small army of counting drones from an inventory service here molesting my stock... and I've already had to talk to their supervisor about the language one of her drones was using on my sales floor!
I'm going to have to clean up such a mess after
I'm going to have to clean up such a mess after


-ing silly bands we keep getting in even though we have approximately 765,329,045,357,122,307,452,945,315,258,341 of the damn things in the backroom to begin with. Corporate even had another store transfer some of those goddamn things to us. Why, oh why, must the children pick such stupid things to blow their allowances on?
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