Demon Marcus, Sunday
Sparkle had listened to the radio this morning. He'd listened to the radio and he'd spent a good twenty minutes either laughing or crying, he wasn't completely certain which it was, but whichever it was, he'd been left grinning and aching and exhausted when he was done, so he'd basically just let autopilot take over and he'd made his way to work.
So... now he was at work. And there was a new shipment of scarves in, the big fluffy warm kind that was perfect for way-too-cold weather, and if he was going to take all day just unpacking those and tagging them for sale, well, so what?
God, his head hurt. His head hurt and this island was... what this island was. So good on it for that, he supposed.
{OOC: Open, sans the OCD, because lazy.]
So... now he was at work. And there was a new shipment of scarves in, the big fluffy warm kind that was perfect for way-too-cold weather, and if he was going to take all day just unpacking those and tagging them for sale, well, so what?
God, his head hurt. His head hurt and this island was... what this island was. So good on it for that, he supposed.
{OOC: Open, sans the OCD, because lazy.]