Red with Envy

It was a rainy fall morning. There was a yellow bricked store with a green roof. On said roof was a black sign, with green neon lit letters that read "Party Pantry".

Rory Mowers sat at the store front behind a cash register. His droopy brown eyes scanned the place. The walls were bright yellow covered in florescent lights, colorful balloons in the shape of recognizable copyrighted characters, and what seemed to be party decorations fit for fall. Rory's red orange eyebrows furrow. There was a frown on his pale peach face as he dreaded the arrival of a new costumer. From bratty kids to teenagers, people of all ages went to Party Pantry for the latest trendy decorations or gifts.

Rory's ears perked up once he heard the door open. He put on a fake smile and nodded. A black man with curly blue and brown hair walked in with his little daughter.

"Hello, welcome to Party Pantry!" Rory smiled. "Whatever. You got any paw patrol birthday hats here?" The father rudely said.

Rory slowly gritted his teeth, his smile looking more forced. His right eye twitched.

"It's on isle three..." Rory said through gritted teeth. He saw the hairs on his arms rise, causing him to take deep breaths.

"Thank you!" The blue haired man said.

"Thank you, bye bye!" The black girl with beads in her hair waved. Her dad dragged her along with him.

Rory calmed himself down, causing the hair on his arms to shrink back to their normal state. He glanced up and saw 5 more customers walked in. He smiled and robotically said that same jolly greeting:

"Hello, welcome to Party Pantry!"

They ignored him. One of the customers, a teenager, tried to steal candy, only for a brunette man to stop her.

"Next time, ask your mum if she could buy it!" The brunette yelled.

He was handsome with those perfect blue eyes and rosey cheeks. He was always good at his job.

"Hey, Clinton." Rory greeted the brown haired man. Clinton towered over him. Even that got over bearing.

"Mister Mowers! Good to see you! Sure is a nasty rainy day, but boy there are a lot of customers coming in!" Clinton replied.

"Sure is a lot." Rory casually said.

"Look at that smirk. How does he even stay happy around such bitchy strangers?!" Rory thought. Clinton noticed him glaring. He pat his back in a caring manner and walked past the red head.

Rory then greeted the customers and checked out their stuff, trying not to lose his patience. A woman with pink hair and black cat eyed glasses walked up to the register.

"Hi! Is there anything you need help with?" Rory asked her. "Yeah, I need help alright. I was looking for some orange balloons but you're out of stock! You got any more? If not, I'm going to file a complaint!" The woman said in a Jewish accent.

"Yeah, sure. Let me just go check in the back."

"Better hurry the fuck up!"

Rory's arm hairs grew a little as he growled. Clinton tried to calm the woman down. The thunder crackled outside as he walked into the back of the store. Rory opened up a door with a sign that said "EMPLOYEES ONLY". Behind it, was a very industrial room full of brown boxes and grey brick walls. He found a box that said "Balloons". He grabbed a small knife from the supply closet. Rory cut open the box, only to find red orange balloons. Feeling a bit stressed, he opened 15 other boxes. Pink, yellow, green, even brown... but no orange balloons.

Those same words repeated in his head:

"Better hurry the fuck up!"

Feeling like he had no luck (or no choice) the ginger reluctantly took two red orange balloons out of the first box. The lady was probably losing her patience by now. Rory ran up front. He used the helium machine to blow up the party balloons. He then gave it to the pink haired lady, much to her displeasure.

"You call these orange?!" The woman yelled with wide blue eyes. Her black tinted lips in a frown. Other citizens glanced at her in concern.

"Yes. With lovely orange ribbons." Rory put on a pseudo smile.

Thunder boomed in time with the woman stomping her foot.

"These. Aren't. ORANGE! They're clearly RED orange! GET ME SOME ORANGE BALLOONS NOOOOOOW!" The woman practically roared, almost seeming like Bigfoot.

The hairs on Rory's arms grew.

"I'm sorry, miss, but we ran out of orange balloons. You're just going to have to-"

"HAVE TO?! This is my son's birthday we're talking about! My only little boy is turning eight years old tomorrow! I NEED THESE DAMN BALLOONS RIGHT NOW! CALL YOUR BOSS!"

Rory furiously panted as his voice deepened. The hairs on his chest sprouted and multiplied as he glared at her with slit green eyes. "PISS OFF, YOU OLD BITCH!" He roared.

"Ma'am, I am going to have to ask you to leave or I'm calling the police..." Clinton said, getting in between Rory and the woman.

Rory panted hard. He covered his head as if trying to stop the transformation from happening. Two pointy ears rose under his hair. Some people ran out of the store.

"Fine! I'll go to a WAY better party shoppe that ALWAYS has orange balloons!" The pink haired Karen said as she stormed out.

Rory took deep breaths. Clinton massaged Rory's shoulders, calming him down. He changed back into his human form before the transformation was even complete.

"That was close... are you alright, Mister Mowers?" Clinton softly said. People in the background resumed shopping. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just really stressed from today. Call up our boss Tyrel and say that the trucks need to stock up on more orange balloons. You seem to be very good at keeping track. Better than me..." Rory whispered at the end. "You got it. It's almost 1PM anyway. You need your lunch break. I'll take over your shift." Clinton kindly said. "Wouldn't that be too much for you?" Rory asked. "Not at all, Mister Mowers. I can't have you continuing the shift then letting out your secret in front of everyone."

"Right. Thank you, Clint."

"Anytime."

The two parted ways as Rory walked out of Party Pantry. He went to Parkinson's Deli and talked to a round, mustachioed looking Spanish man behind the counter.

"The usual. Doc. Cream cheese, lettuce, and ham on rye." Rory smiled a bit.

"You got it, Rory!" The man said in a thick accent. Doc went to a small sink and washed his hands. He then prepared the sandwich before flipping it on the grill. He added the cream cheese last. Rory gave Doc the money once he was finished. He calmly ate the sandwich, not even caring if his soaking wet raincoat dripped onto it. He was just happy to get some food in his stomach, and not people.

"So how's life been, senior?" Doc asked as he washed the grill. "Not too good. got a few rude customers and a really REALLY nasty Karen. Goody-two-shoes Clinton decided to take my place." Rory explained.

"Ah. Well, I hope once you return to that job, you encounter another friendly face beyond Clinton. Never understood why you envied the man. He did me a lot of favors I didn't even ask of him!" Doc said as he put the cloth back in the sink.

"That's the problem! He's so damn perfect! Unnaturally so! Dude even knows how to calmly deal with customers!" Rory said. He lastly shoved the rest of his sandwich down his throat.

"Maybe you could learn to calmly deal with customers by... Taking anger management classes, no?" The old man straightened his apron.

Rory paused. He glanced at his own dirty hands, then at Doc.

"You usually give the best advice, hell, you're the only one I could trust outside of the Party Pantry workers, but... Are you nuts?"