You’d been through this process a dozen times: get fired, go to Steve, find a new job, repeat. This newest job, night security at an old pizzaria, seemed interesting.

The first night wasn’t all too bad, just… unsettling. Today, however, you saw it. A grimy golden rabbit standing in the kitchen. It reached its large hands up and removed its head, revealing the sweat-covered face underneath.

Holy shit. Steve fucking Raglan. He grinned menacingly, the knife in his hand glimmering in the dark.