Date: Fri, 06 Jun 1997 23:30:07 -0700

From: Fox Cutter 

Subject: Employment Opportunities







                        Spells-R-Us

                  Employment Opportunities



                            By:



                         Fox Cutter





Harold wondered though the mall, not exactly looking for

anything. He was just there to be there, not having anything

better to do with his day. Not to mention everyday of the

next five months. The computer company he worked for had

laid him of temperately. They would higher him back in fifth

month, as christmas neared, but until then he had free time.



It wasn't to much of a lose of time though, he had enough in

his stocks and other things to carry him though at least a

year. Five months wasn't to much of a problem to deal with.

He just hated not have any kind of job.



His revelry was interested as he heard a loud 'THWACK' near

by, following by a string of curses.



Looking up, he noticed he was in one of the back corners of

the mall. One of those places where all the store fronts

were blocked off as there was no stores there.



This time though, there was. A small store, tucked into the

corner, no place near any of the other ships. This was, on

the whole, odd. Usual new stories set up next to older ones,

it makes sure there was a customer flow.



There came another thwack and more curses, both from inside

the store.



Harold walked over to the shops entrance and stuck his head

in. The shop was large and a bit musty, every wall was lined

with shelves and even more shelves where set up through out

the room. Most of them contained clutter of one type or

another. There was a few pieces though that seamed a bit out

of place; a large leather bound tome, a pile of polished

rocks, a rack of costumes in the back that looked a bit to

real.



Steeping back a bit, he glanced up noting that the shop was

named 'Spells-R-Us'. He gave a private chuckle, finding it a

strange name for what he took to be a thrift shop of some

kind.



Taking a few steps forward, he moved into the shop just as

another stream of curses flowed though the door in the back.

Walking around the different kinck-nacks, being careful not

to knock over anything in the process. Reaching the door, he

steeped though.



He found himself looking at the back of a well worn

bathrobe. The man who was wearing it was slightly balding,

fully grey and was in the middle of attacking a computer

with his fist. "Work damn it!" He yelled, whopping the top

of the monitor.



Harold chuckled, "all that will do is make it madder." He

commented, leaning up against the door frame.



The old man turned around giving Harold a piercing gaze. He

tenses for a second, then seamed to relax. "What do you know

about it?" he more demanded then asked.



Harold raised his hands, making a frame with his matched

thumb and index fingers, centering the old man in it.

"Author Dent," He said, with a smiled, "older and shorter."



The man frowned for a second, then slowly smiled, tugging on

his bathrobe a bit. "That is a new response, I usual get

'how do you know my name' more then anything original." He

gave a small sigh. "I suppose I should get a card printed up

with the answer, it would save so many quick explanations."



The younger man chuckled, he was starting to like this guy.

"I'm glad to have added a little entertainment to your day."



The old man nodded, then steeped to the side a bit. "You

appear to know about computers."



Harold nodded. "Mind if I take a look?"



He shrugged. "Be my guest."



Walking over to the computer, Harold gave the power button a

quick flip and found nothing happened. Moving around to the

back, he check over all the cables. Everything was in place

and in tight. As a last check before he had to open the

computer up, he gave the power cord a slight pull.



There was no resistance.



Chuckling to himself, he pulled the power cord to him,

expect to find it had been unplugged. Instead he found that

the cord had been chewed though.



Looking closely at the severed end, he sighed. "You've got

mice."



"I know," the old man said. "I've had them for ages. I can't

seem to get rid of them, there to stupid to get cough in the

traps."



Harold chuckled, moving over to the wall and very carefully

unplugged the other end of the cord. Trying not to touch the

wires, which were still live. "I would get a cat if I were

you."



"I can't," the old man said passing Harold a new cord. "They

hate all hate my wolf."



Harold snickered a bit, plugging the new cord into the wall,

then into the computer. Reaching around, he hit the power

switch, causing the computer to start up. Leaning atop the

monitor, he smiled. "Maybe you should get yourself a smarter

cat then."



The old man gave him a sharp look, then smiled. "Tell me

Harold, what's your current employment?"



* * *



Harold paused, slowly hunkering back in a dark corner, his

muscles bunching underneath his skin. A dozen or more feet

away, a small brown mouse stood on the floor. It glanced

around the room, his small paws stroking down over it's

whiskers.



Harold tensed, the dim light filtering though the windows

from the mall giving him ample light to see by. He held

himself in check though, waiting for the mouse to get

closer.



The mouse finally darted, running accost the floor. As the

mouse got closer and closer Harold lowered himself to the

ground, shifting slowly. Just as the mouse got with in four

feet of him he pounced.



Harold sleek feline formed flew through the air landing just

inches from the mouse. It tried to run but before it could

go anywhere Harold had it pined under his paws. With a quick

bite the mouse died.



Taking the dead mouse in his mouth, he walked over and

dropped it into a small pail, along with the other three he

had killed that night. The turning he moved back into his

corner and started to groom himself, waiting for the next

mouse to show it's head.

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