Just the Coffee Boy. Promise.

Tommy's Wild Job Finding Adventure

He woke up disgruntled, courtesy of the Sun. Tommy winced from his position curled up on the floor. The Sun had decided that now was in fact the time for Tommy to wake up. It glared ever so rudely through the window and directly into his eyes.

He groaned and sat up against the probably decomposing wall. He didn’t have a blanket. He didn’t have money. He didn’t have a job. He didn’t have his frie-

He had his friends. They were just in Snowchester.

Liquid began to build up in his eyes, but he promptly told the liquid to fuck off.

Tommy popped all the joints he possibly could. His body ached, and his tail even more so after sleeping with it in his pant leg. Unfortunately, cracking his tail would leave him with a broken tail and he could not afford that right now.

That landowner rent collector person was nice enough to let a raggedy kid have an apartment, and he didn’t want to lose it because he was in severe medical debt.

Speaking of money, Tommy walked into the kitchen and observed the papers on top of the counter. 

An ad for swimming pools. (It’s the middle of winter for fucks sake-)

A newspaper that is several weeks old. (He has no idea what that’s about.)

And a bill.

A pristine looking bill that glares with numbers that are now forever burned into his skull.

$1,524.00 

Due in a month's time.

Maybe if he was lucky the Landlord (yes that's the proper term) would forget about his rent, or even better give him an extension.

His tail twitched in his pant leg, and he shook it out. 

He gently carded his fingers through the fur, which was thick from winter and coated and coated in grime. Tommy winced as his fingers got snagged on a matt.

Ouch.

Ranboo had said that he should snag a brush at one point, but Tubbo has deemed it too risky.

His ears were in better shape at least. Those were kept clean, not that there was any use since his hearing was shot to hell. The explos-

Tommy shook himself from his thoughts. Now is not trauma time, it is job time.

So he walked into the bathroom and tried to make himself look as presentable as possible. He washed his face, tried to fluff his hair, and attempted to smooth out his clothes.

It was job time.

»»———-　　———-««

Turns out that most employers do not want to hire a scrawny raccoon boy. To be honest, he wouldn’t hire him either. He was dirty, malnourished, and raccoon hybrids were notorious for stealing.

A certain man by the name of Sam apparently was not as smart as all his ex-potential-employers.

“Yeah, you know I’ve been meaning to get someone to help around the shop and you seem like the perfect fit.”

Tommy blinked at the creeper hybrid. 

“You’re joking.”

Sam quirked an eyebrow, “I’m not? I think you’re genuinely pretty cool, and if you’re worried about the whole,” he made a circle motion around Tommy, “Raccoon thing, I don’t have a problem with it. You guys are pretty cool.”

“Oh what’s your name again? I didn’t catch it the first time.”

Tommy’s hard of hearing ears must not have been working properly at all because what he was hearing was that this man had just: One, hired him on the spot. Two, wasn’t going to mistreat him for being a raccoon hybrid. And three, though that he, the TOMMYINNIT was a perfect fit for this job.

“Tommy. Tommy Innit. Nice to meet you Sam!” Tommy’s tail began a slow side to side wag as he reached out and shook the man’s hand.

His tail, despite him trying to stop it, was now swishing back and forth in the air. His efforts to prevent the swishing was fruitless however as he was far too excited about getting a job to stop.

“Really! I’ve got a job! Holy shit!” Tommy looked up at Sam. “Thank you, I won’t let you down.”

Sam waved off the thank you, like giving him a job wasn’t a big deal at ALL which it WAS, “Well if you don’t have anything going on right now you can get started with your job and I can show you around the shop.”

Now that was music to Tommy’s already singing ears! 

“Okay so if you hadn’t realized this is a vinyl record shop. I sell just about every type of music, and each genre is in a different area of the shop okay?”

Tommy nodded and looked in all the places that Sam pointed and labeled with different types of music. Sam even played a few that Tommy pointed out so that he could get an idea of what the different genres sounded like.

It was around 2:30pm when Sam went into his office to make his schedule and his salary. 

He had left Tommy at the cash register.

Tommy has no idea how to use a cash register.

The buttons were all funky and abbreviations replaced actual words on almost every button.

His frustration only grew when the little bell on the door rang and a man walked through and began to browse the vinyls.

Apparently, this man knew what he wanted because he was now holding a record in his hands in front of the register.

Henceforth came his gold sticker worthy idea.

“Hey man, do you know how to use a cash register?” 

The guy looks up at Tommy with a ‘what the fuck’ face. “Um, yeah? Why?”

“I’m having difficulties and I was wondering if you could show me how.” Tommy eloquently stated. “Bitch.” 

“I guess? Can I come around the counter?”

Tommy shrugged and the man walked behind the counter. They started talking and clicking buttons explaining each one and their functions and then having him go through with buying the record that they picked out. It took a few tries but Tommy eventually got through the whole “buying something” process and successfully checked the dude out.

He’s lucky the guy was a decent man, if someone had asked him for help with their job he probably would’ve called them a bitch baby and stole whatever he needed.

That usually worked.

The bell rang and the door snapped shut signaling that the man left. 

Moments later Sam emerged from his office.

“Okay so how does 1,470 dollars bi-weekly sound, as for money, and your schedule being 9am-4pm working everyday unless something comes up or you just need a break or something.”

Tommy stared wide-eyed at Sam for the second time today.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine big man. How much money again?”

Sam glanced at a paper in his hand, “1,470 dollars? Is that not enough, I can always boost it up-”

Tommy's eyes were now blown wide in panic and not amazement, “No no no no, it’s perfect I just wasn’t expecting that much.”

“Oh I see.” Sam’s eyes were now laced with concern, or at least he hopes it concern, the gas mask across the lower half of his face makes it hard to tell.

“I will see you tomorrow, Tommy! Sleep well.”

Tommy waved by to Sam and his record shop as he skipped onto the sidewalk.

He continued to skip his entire way to his shitty apartment, overjoyed with the idea of having a job.

Today was better than yesterday. He was happier today.

He had a home and a job. 
He cannot wait to send another letter to Tubbo and Ranboo to tell them all about Sam.