A Strange New World

Scrubs, The City Of Clarity

Cox Janitorial Company, Backyard Investigation Department

Scrubs, The City Of Clarity. Originally an ordinary town in Texas, Scrubs became a revolutionary city with the largest company, Cox Janitorial Company. Also known as Cox Janitorial Co. or CJC, it had helped Scrubs see the light of day. Its business sounded strange, but upon further examination, it provided sanitary help. The performance came from its latest department, the backyard investigation section.

The department checks on suburbs across Scrubs, looking for vacant backyards or front yards. Each employee reports their discovery to the section manager, then he shares it to the founder, Mason Cox. Afterwards, a group of elites go to that vacant area to sanitize the backyard with a special serum.

Recently, the department had gotten praise for its hard work and efficient staff. But what laid beneath the cheery smiles and excellent work load was stressful. Most importantly, a new member, who enrolled there three months ago, had it rough.

His name was Weston Muller, twenty-five-years-old.

“Weston!”

An ultramarine blue-haired man jumped in his seat from that thunderous voice. He turned around, a shade of blue flushed his face. In front of him was a tall and threatening man in his late thirties. Maxim Brown was the section manager in the backyard investigation section. He took his work seriously and pushed his coworkers to their limit, even the newbies had a rough time completing their documents. In Maxim’s hand was a thick packet of documents, stapled together.

“Yes, sir?”

“I have these documents for you. And I see you haven’t finished yours. Pathetic. You’ve been here for three damn months and your efficiency is slow. Too slow for our standards.”

Maxim threw the packet at Weston’s face. “Get these done before your shift ends. Start working overtime, if you must.”

While Maxim left, brushing his medium brown hair back, Weston sighed. He stared at his mountain-sized load around his monitor. Maxim wasn’t kidding about his work efficiency. Weston was fresh off of college, getting his degree and wanting to start a job. The job he picked wasn’t his preferred choice, but his parents encouraged him to go for it. He now regretted ever agreeing to their advice.

He went to work on Maxim’s and his document checkups. Two hours later, Weston exited his cubicle. His eyes were tired, red-rimmed and bags growing saggier. ‘I can’t take it anymore. Maxim’s piling more work than usual. He should know I’m a newbie. I should complain, but that’ll cause a demotion. And I’ll become a laughingstock again.’

Before becoming an employee at Cox Janitorial Company, Weston had a stressful life. He wasn’t attractive, and he lacked social skills. Because of those traits, Weston became a target for bullies and harsh teachers. He became a pushover, not wanting to defend his emotions. He knew he was worthless.

At least his family cared for his well-being and cheered him up through the hardships.

Weston followed a simple path, believing it’ll give him hope. It all ended in flames after he enrolled to CJ Co. He arrived at a lounge room, where a muscular young man conversed with a narrow-shaped blonde-haired woman. A smile lifted his damaged spirits as he approached them. “Hi, Justice and Lucille.”

“Bonjour, Weston,” Lucille said with a small nod. She sipped a warm portion of tea, eyes closed.

“Howdy there, buddy.” Justice slapped a hand on Weston’s shoulder. The force nearly tipped Weston backwards. “Got somethin’ to share?”

“No, other than Maxim—”

“Ugh, don’t even finish that sentence.” Lucille placed her mug of tea on a counter, her disgusted expression facing Weston and Justice. Whenever Weston looked into Lucille’s emerald green eyes, his heart fluttered. He’d always had a crush on her since day one, but his shy demeanor made it hard for him to confess. “That bastard piled his work on us, too.”

“Yeah, a bit annoyin’ but I’m doin’ this for my family’s sake. My brother is still fightin’ in a court case against his crazy-ass girlfriend.” Justice leaned against the counter, his firm forearms folded over his chest. Everyone wore simple office clothes, such as white collar shirts and brown dress pants. The difference was a logo of a flask with overflowing bubbles on their breast pocket.

“I wish we can get him fired, but he’s good at hiding that awful behavior around Mason. I swear, how Mason hired him will forever be a mystery.”

Weston chuckled nervously at Lucille’s comment. “I get you, but there’s no chance of us winning. Maxim is our boss and we need to take responsibility.”

“You mean we should take his responsibilities?” Justice arched an eyebrow at Weston. Compared to him, Justice was go-lucky. Add his height of six feet and six inches, Justice was a cutie among the coworkers. Lucille was no exception when appearances came up. Her blonde hair, emerald eyes, and curvy hips made any male drool. Swoon was a word they used to describe their lust towards Lucille. Unfortunately for them, she wasn’t interested in dating.

“It’s not like that, Justice.” Weston lowered his head, a sad realization overcoming his thoughts.

As the pushover to Maxim, Weston’s mentality thought taking responsibilities for others was his purpose. With a scrawny body, uninteresting appeal, and zero social skills, Weston took those beliefs to heart. Justice, instead of feeling upset, laughed. His bombastic voice echoed across the lounge room. He hugged Weston with one arm around his narrow shoulder. “Don’t start saggin’ on me, Westie. Me and Luci understand your troubles. But take my words seriously, man. Maxim doesn’t control you. You control yourself.”

Those words meant encouragement, but Weston doesn’t believe them. He wanted to, but his self-esteem wouldn’t. Not as long as Maxim was around to remind his worthlessness. After catching a break with Justice and Lucille, Weston returned to work. He completed the documents before his shift ended.

He departed the company building, his mind conjuring Justice’s quotes from earlier. It bounced in his mind for three minutes until Weston called a taxi. He got in, back aching from hunching over his desk for hours. Justice had a point; Maxim doesn’t control every action Weston made. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t doubt myself. What I need is fulfillment. A path that’ll present my true purpose. But the chances of that will never happen.’

A Month Later

Cox Janitorial Co., Backyard Investigation Department (7:30pm)

Weston got up early, rushed to work, and began doing work on behalf of his boss. Justice’s cubicle sat besides Weston’s, so their conversations were casual, despite the walls muffling their voices. He asked if Weston slept alright and the response was...

“I couldn’t stop thinking about the next piles of work Maxim had.”

Justice froze, not speaking a word from Weston’s reply. Lucille’s cubicle was far away from theirs, so she doesn’t hear their discussion. If she was, she would agree with Justice’s reaction. Maxim was harming Weston’s mental health, and he doesn’t give a damn. Speaking of their terrible boss, Maxim marched into the department. Unlike the coworkers, Maxim’s uniform had a black polo shirt, symbolizing his section manager role. He held a clipboard in his hands, which worried Weston.

That clipboard meant Maxim was picking candidates to join a group of elites. The group specialized in cleaning backyards, the ones the department examined before reporting Mason. Maxim stood straight in the middle and coughed into his fist. “Can I have everyone’s attention?”

Everyone stopped working. They landed their gaze on Maxim, who hid a satisfied smirk. Justice and Weston saw it regardless and exhaled. “I have important news. Mason Cox has chosen three employees from this department to join the elite janitors on a prominent mission.”

Mumbles vibrated the empty air. They weren’t sure who Maxim or Mason partook in manual labor.

“In my hands is the official list of participants. Stand up if I call your name. Ahem, joining Chad O’Neal, Bella Chambers, and Avery Harvey will be...”

Expectations and excitement filled their chest. Weston, however, felt worrisome fill his chest. The beats pounded and plugged his ears. He can’t hear.

“Justice Barlett, Lucille Charbonnier, and...”

Maxim momentarily stared at Weston, a bigger smirk spread. “Weston Muller.”

As ordered, Justice and Lucille stood up. Weston, although he heard his name, refused to stand. Why him, he thought while rocking in his chair.

“I said Weston Muller. Where are you?”

Silence filled the department office. Weston kept his head low, more sweat dripping on the carpet floor. Justice looked over his wall, noticing Weston’s panic attack. He should have intervened, but Maxim was present. He could only watch in horror.

“If you don’t stand up, I’ll fire you! Now stand!”

The threat of losing his only job frightened him. He reluctantly stood up, head still hung low, letting his short blue hair flow past his hairline. Maxim snickered. He knew that threat would get to Weston. “Alright, I present you these three participants. Mr. Barlett, Ms. Charbonnier, and Mr. Muller? Meet me in my office.”

Justice hid a frustrated frown by tilting his cowboy hat while tucking his chin in. Lucille wanted to express disdain to Maxim, but held that thought to herself. Weston’s knees buckled as he walked out of his cubicle. He can’t believe Maxim approved of him going on a dangerous mission. Sure, there were elites, but they had bigger egos than Maxim. They loved doing missions that were life-threatening.

Once in Maxim’s office, he smirked hard at them. Correction; he was smirking at Weston who still hung his head below his shoulders.

“Excuse me, Mr. Brown. May I ask why you chose us?” Lucille raised her hand, a deadpan stare locking on Maxim’s face.

“The choices weren’t mine. Mason specifically chose you three to aid the elites. You already know what those three do.”

Weston didn’t need to nod. He knew what those elites did, basically. Sanitation in backyards sounded mundane, but there was more to it. Twenty years ago, from Weston’s knowledge, a previous janitorial company created a product that’d clean anything. It was strong enough to kill insects, becoming a two-in-one product. A bug repellent and a revolutionary cleaning item.

The idea was perfect, but it had drawbacks. Horrific drawbacks. Months passed and customers realized a terrifying discovery. Although the product cleaned their household to perfection, its formula mutated the insects. Those insects became hostile, attacking anything that came close to them.

Despite the complaints, the owner refused to recall the product. Instead, the scientists behind the product’s creation restructured its formula, hoping it would kill the mutated insects. However, it didn’t and caused another outbreak. Customers who inhaled the formula’s potent fumes suffered a side effect. Their bodies shrunk gradually until they were the size of ants.

The company still refused to take responsibility for mutilating their clients and manifesting hazardous creatures. Mason and a handful of his friends stepped in to stop the company’s actions. They first crafted a cure for the effects caused by the product. It restored the customer’s sizes, but it didn’t eradicate the mutated insects. The demonstration proved of a solution to the company’s wrongdoings.

Afterwards, the janitorial company went bankrupt alongside the scientific business it partnered with. Mason and his friends founded Cox Janitorial Company to repair the damages the previous company spread across Scrubs. The formula they used to cure the customers had improved to eliminate mutated insects. And that was how the company’s backyard investigation department began.

Going with the elite employees ruffled Weston’s nerves. He hyperventilated, which caught Maxim’s attention. As his boss, he should feel concerned about Weston’s feelings. But he snickered and grinned at the pathetic excuse of Weston Muller. “There’s no excuse that’ll get you out of this. If you do, I’ll not only cut your salaries, but demote you to the sales department. Continue to perform poorly and I’ll demote you further down the chain.”

The threats were more selfish and nerve-wrecking. Weston’s chest pounded harder as Maxim made his situation harder to manage. Lucille grunted and raised a hand. “Yes, Ms. Charbonnier?”

“To be honest, sir, this mission isn’t suitable for Weston. Can you talk with Mr. Cox about changing the lineup?”

“Yeah, Weston shouldn’t join those people. I’ve heard rumors of their smug behavior botherin’ the employees after completin’ missions.”

“Does it matter? It’ll be extra credit for him and you two.” Maxim crossed his firm arms, leaned against the chair, and eyes squinted. “My threat applies to you, Charbonnier and Barlett. Refuse to comply and I’ll demote you to the lowest department we have.”

Justice growled under his breath. Lucille remained silent, hands folded on her lap. Maxim chuckled to himself. He knew his superiority outclassed their simple employee roles.

He dismissed them from his office and immediately called Mason.

“Hi, Maxim. Did you announce the arrangements?”

“Yes, sir. I’d notified the arrangements to the backyard investigation department and went in-detail with the chosen applicants.”

When Mason came to mind, Maxim dropped his selfish attitude and acted submissive. “By tomorrow morning, they’ll team up with the elites and head off to...”

For a man who graduated from a top-tier university, Maxim was quite forgetful. He looked at the documents towards tomorrow’s important mission. “Bubble Drive?”

“Yes, that’s where Bayside Suburbs is.”

“May I ask? Why specifically Bayside Suburbs?”

Mason grew quiet. His hums bothered Maxim, urging him to keep questioning. Then his manly, deep voice vibrated the phone line. “Because the house’s backyard hadn’t been sanitized in years. We never added it, so I’m starting a three-month cleansing period.”

“Oh.”

“Have the elites prepare everything. Make sure the huts in that house’s backyard are secure and operational.”

The huts were the elite’s camping sites, in case they needed breaks from cleansing backyards. Two huts and a laboratory for visiting scientists. Maxim was unfamiliar with the elite’s activities. He only gave them orders. The image of him joining that team shuttered his spine. He grimaced before returning to listen to Mason.

“And Mr. Brown?”

“Yes?”

“About Weston Muller.”

Maxim hid a grunt but rolled his eyes. “What about Mr. Muller?”

“I don’t want him to stress. Can you also notify the elites about Mr. Muller’s conditions? Please?”

“Of course, sir.”

Maxim hung up with an exhausted sigh. Like he’ll notify accommodations to elites. Weston can take care of himself, despite showing a weak body, Maxim thought.

To Be Continued...