Becky doesn't hate her job, per se, but she doesn't love it either. What with all the other highschoolers in Colfax trying to find employment in a small, tight-knit town where everyone knows everyone, the only job she could get her hands on was at the local video store. Plus, her parents wanted her out of the house. She lounges too much, according to them.

Back to the video store though, she doesn't think she's ever seen such a sorry collection of tapes in her life. There's some good new releases, sure, but the majority of the shelves house nothing but low quality B-movies or another Tom Cruise action. Lame junk, in her opinion.

But it pays, not much, but it does. She stands at the counter, clad in the little vest and tie she's required to wear as she shifts through a new shipment of thrillers. She looks exactly how one would expect — like a moody teenager manning the counter of a job she thought was reserved for boomers or film buffs.

The bell above the entrance door dings and she glances over at it, her attention drawn by the sound.