<strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Cobb Theater </span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Cape</span></strong><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"> Merrin</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">November 10, 2010</span></strong><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Trebs’s somewhat wistful expression dropped when Reggy told her the news about his cash drawer; her features seemed to shift into a sharper focus as she listened to him, her eyes focusing on him rather than roaming over the water-stained ceiling tiles above them. She tugged absentmindedly at her stretched earlobes and sighed, sitting back in her desk chair. “Well, fuck. I don’t know Reggy—I can’t leave it unreported. Do you know the guys? Their names? We need to ban them from the theater. I need to report them to the daytime staff. And we’re going to be here late—filling out this paperwork.” </span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">She turned around and dug in one of the filing cabinets to pull out the shortage paperwork so that she could write up the missing cash and as she worked on that, filling in the amounts missing as Reggy supplied the information to her, she said to him, “I’m not really sure what Amundson (http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs25/i/2008/137/b/b/Onto_The_Streets_VIII_by_kaoru_mw.jpg) [the day manager] will say. You might not need to lose any cash—or at least that little tart</span><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"> Ashley (https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/nlvNng0WkrMZK6e4DqCgPYU996DZ2gl0pbXQjM5WeA3BAuM182re0rR-nMOIUL7H2BQF5qfnKsKLmbLklFZ9AG6uZQ=s512) </span><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>[pic @ link is NSFW]</strong> that works the early shifts didn’t when some high school kids stiffed her. But you know, she has those biggish tits, and well, you can’t play the whole Girl-in-Distress card that she could with the waterworks. I’ll put in a good word for you though.” She surrendered the paperwork over to Reggy so he could write up the encounter in the “Comments” section. As Reggy recounted the events, Trebs rocked back and forth in her chair, sighing occasionally and picking at the flaked fingernail polish with her obscenely large keychain. There were more keys on it, and not <em>just</em> theater-related keys, than on the key chains of most people who owned multiple cars. When she shifted her angle, the keys jangled and made a dissonant little protest, urging Reggy to write faster. Eventually they both signed the paperwork and Trebs closed up the safe.</span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">They walked outside together, and Trebs said good night to Reggy before she turned and trotted off into the rain without an umbrella. Her mismatched skirt and her theater shirt were soaked before she could get the ancient driver’s side lock of her VW to come open. The engine stubbornly refused to turn over for a moment or two, and then it jolted to life. Trebs pulled away from the Cobb, leaving Reggy to the darkness.</span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">As she pulled away, a largish rat darted over to Reggy, pawed at his shoe, sniffed upward and looked at the movie theater attendant with some interest. As Reggy looked down, he could see the rat was both soaking wet, and seemed to be bleeding along its right side—not gushing blood, but it was certainly hurt.  <br/><br/>Edit: to fix linkage.<br/></span>