The Neverywhere Inn

>Compress the stun baton into a coin shape and put it in the coin slot.

AUTHOR's NOTEShow

I vanish for a few months, and the formatting bar disappears forever. What even happened in my absence...?

Unfortunately, the formatting's gonna be mad ugly/nonexistent from hereon, I guess.

NAME
worry not.
the solution is much s i m p l e r than that.

NAME unleashes a whirlwind of taps against the vending machine's number pad. The backlight flashes green.

NAME
these creatures are easily tamed.

They flatten their stun baton into a coin shape and feed it to the unruly contraption. It rocks comically in place, metal innards turning, and vomits up GRETEL's chips. NAME's coin-shaped baton tumbles noisily into the change compartment.

VESI
Hmm.
Your resume never mentioned a history in maintenance.
Color me impressed.

NAME's colleagues murmur among themselves, hushed voices approving. NAME expands their baton to full size and slides it back into their throat. This time, the others cringe a little less.

NAME
your sustenance.

They hand GRETEL their chips. The bag glistens with an oily, black substance. GRETEL holds it at arm's length between two fingers.

GRETEL
I guess it had an upset stomach.

GRETEL smiles, awkwardly.

The chip issue resolved, VESI proceeds to outline everyone's duties. Employees wear many hats at the Neverywhere Inn: they'll all be responsible for housekeeping, the front desk, room service, and kitchen duty by turns. Depending on one's talents, one may also partake in the live dinner shows offered to VIP patrons.

VESI
You'll all be trained on the floor, by either myself, or a senior staff member.
Does anyone have any preferences regarding which position they take up first?
Speak quickly. First come, first serve.