You hate it here. Deep into a double-shift. Eyes almost watering from the circus color palette, bright stupid reds, yellows, and blues. Jack of All Fruits. The most ridiculous jester-themed smoothie bar in the ugliest strip mall in town. But it's a job. Every day you come here. Every day you'd rather be anywhere else.

You struggle to get the plastic lid on the latest order. The king-sized lids don't fit the king-sized cups. Everybody always orders king-size. You squeeze too hard. Neon orange goo drips down the side of the cup. The flavor is called Mango-Carta Madness.

You feel angry.

Finally the lid clicks with a pop and drops of the orange goo fleck your court jester uniform. You grab a dirty dishrag to try and blot it out, but you already know from experience that it will stain. You tug on your shirt, too tight even though it was the largest size they had.

A snot-faced kid marches up to the counter, hands clasped behind back, shit-eating grin on his face. You look down at the name on the cup. King Jeffrey. You know exactly what comes next...