Page 9 of Aim Assist

Max, my brother and one of my favorite people on this entire planet, has my phone filled with death threats for leaving him to man the store alone today, but it wasn't a busy day.

It's just that he had two huskies from a repeat client. Huskies sing. That's fine. We're used to that.

These two not only sing, but they slip out of everything. Both of them are major flight risks, common with the breed. The red one likes to eat the high-velocity dryer, and the black one is fine for everything except the bath.

He hates water, so he tends to get a little nippy for the bath phase.

Put them together, and it's a day of hell and husky songs.

I am very okay with having missed that fiasco, but I do feel bad for springing it on him last minute.

Amy:

Sorry. You're the best. I love you. I promise to give you a bonus this week.

Max:

A bonus every week for the rest of the year, you hussy. I was watching you stream. You played with that Trick guy all night, didn't you?

Amy:

Yep. Zombies. It was fun. I needed it.

Max:

Better be careful, or you'll be blowing something other than zombie heads.

Amy:

The guy probably lives in Canada. He's too polite to be from around here.

Max:

Whatever. I just think you should lay off the gaming guys. You keep holding onto losers, and you won't let me cut their dicks off when they fuck around on you.

Amy:

That's because it's ILLEGAL.

Max:

So is leaving me with two huskies. Alone.

Amy:

You're not alone. Isn't Shay there?

Max:

Shay helps dry dogs. She doesn't help groom them. YOU LEFT ME ALONE, BITCH.

Amy:

Sorry, sorry. Double bonus. I won't do that again. I just needed to blow off some steam. Wickledick really got to me this time.

Max:

It's fine. Gotta go. Owner's here for pickup.

---