M.C. Kraken's: Customer Feedback (Patreon)
Content
A short little piece I just felt like doing. M.C. Kraken’s still a super fun setpiece, seeing how each of the species stand out with their goths, punks and metalheads. I think I just felt like a big summary or a review of the setting, so I did exactly that. Customer reviews are in. Again, the M.C. Kraken’s franchise isn’t about fucking customers. That’s just what this particular one full of lazy, slutty goth monstergirls does because their boss is also lazy and moody, so letting these punk kids do what they want is way easier than actually running things.
Dirge doesn’t have a lot of screentime, not that any of them really monopolize the stories. She has kids and I’m really not sure if she’s still married, but she just wants to chill all day in her office and get buzzed. So she just comes out long enough to tell people “yes, we can do that” or shut up the really whiny ones by not giving a damn or just throwing them out. She ignores a lot with her employees, but at least they’re quiet and mellow about it. Customers, she doesn’t cut as much slack. I’d almost forgotten the team calls her “mom” by now, and she does care about and protect them in her “do whatever you want” approach.
There was a certain flow that became noticeable when you worked long enough at the M.C. Kraken’s on Hunch Boulevard. The particular fast food spot ran its own hours that weren’t kept on an especially tight schedule, but they got their general hours decently down. Customers picked up on it and the mix of college kids, cheap but hungry locals, and late night drinkers made up a lot of their visitors made them fairly easy to predict.
So on the weekend afternoon, things slowed to a crawl. The manager Dirge checked the cameras and leaned out of her office.
“Skye! Close down the drive thru. Dawn, once Sam and Peggy are in, lock the doors behind them. Tell folks we’re closed if they ask.”
It was one of the few times she could find a proper lull in business, and with a few of the girls going to school weekends were the only time she could manage to schedule everyone at once. She picked up her clipboard of meeting notes and begrudgingly got off her orcish ass.
Dirge was only called on for big issues and she was happy to browse the internet and check the occasional numbers for most of her day. The massive and broadly built milf had her hair tied back in a few dread-like braids of mixed black and brown hair. She dressed in a simple white button-up over her broad chest and some wrinkled slacks to show her dubious status over the other black and gold-clad employees.
“Okay, people. Mandatory meeting time,” she declared.
A few of the employees groaned but Dirge covered their unenthusiasm with her own dismissive attitude put towards the announcement.
“We got some customer feedback from the survey things that we don’t really mention anymore, but some people found it, I guess. I officially have to review you all over it. AJ…” the orcish manager started as she flipped through her clipboard.
“Got a few reports of you eating uncooked food on the job.”
“Accurate,” the pierced and tattooed mermaid said with a nod, looking unphased by the accusation. Her species evolved to eat deep sea fish off the bone, so a frozen fish patty was nothing.
“Also that you will sometimes pretend to only speak Deep One around customers when you don’t feel like dealing with them.”
“Ruhm guu r’ryla…” AJ grumbled in a low and guttural tone that got her gills flexing.
“Uh huh. But, you’re biologically the employee with the hardest time and least interest in sleeping with the customers. Between that and your fake accent, all means you’ve got the fastest checkout times. So I say fuck it.”
AJ pursed her lips into a fraction of a smile as her boss blew off the whole thing.
Dirge pulled off her page, crumbled it up and tossed it over her shoulder.
“What else what else… uhh Peggy.”
The gruff holstaur grunted, her muscular arms folded under her boulder-like tits.
“The reviews say you refuse to clean up after customers…”
“I ain’t their mom,” Peggy snorted disdainfully.
“And consistently refuse to smile on the job.”
Dirge glanced around the room of pierced and tattooed goths. “So that’s pretty normal. Still, you can lift more than any other employee working the floor and are the only one who can replace the milkshake machine, so keep up the good work.”
That, at least, got Peggy to smirk.
“Then Ratch… and Raddle. I’m just gonna do you both at once here, because these are all for ‘goblin janitor’ and you two just do everything together anyway.”
“Hell yea! Timesaver,” Raddle laughed. She high fived the mohawked goblin next to her.
“You’ve been seen drinking cleaner chemicals, playing loud metal music in your earbuds, and doing sexual favors for leftovers.
“Yea, sounds like us,” Ratch chirped with a nod.
“Right. So basically you’re doing what you would be doing around here even if I wasn’t paying you,” Dirge smirked, taking another potent sip from her plastic cup.
“Which’s why I hired you in the first place. Keep it up. Dawn!”
The short green gorgon girl was sitting at one of the tables with her feet up on the opposite seat. She was typing away on her phone when she glanced up.
“Lot of reports of you’re always on your phone.”
“Oh,” the apathetic employee noted, looking right back at her phone to keep texting her boyfriend.
“It’s fine. I can prep food with my hair.” Her snake-like strands of hair perked up pointedly, each with a metal stud pierced through near their fronts.
“Exactly. And nobody can shut up a customer quite like a gorgon wink,” Dirge praised. Dawn smiled slightly, her red contacts gleaming a bit as she blinked.
“Ash… well you’ve refused to wear gloves while making the food.”
The gray werewolf with a shaved down sidecut perked up her canine ears at her name.
“Claws don’t go great with gloves. And it’s not like I shed.”
“Also having you around is considered a medical risk by some people since you’re technically contagious. But they’d basically have to fight you, fuck you, or spit in their food to spread any of that.”
Ash smiled nervously, her eyes darting around.
“But I know you carry meds for that. Nobody matches your energy, and you’ve done the most in the prank war we’ve got going on with Hamletburger, which I am all about. That place sucks. Doing great.”
Her tail wagged happily as Dirge ripped up another page of reviews.
“Uhhh Raven? Reports of you smoking weed on the roof,” the orc milf went on.
The black-feathered harpy blinked blankly back at her.
“Which is further away than most of you do it. And the shorter guests like someone who appreciates their size. Sammy…”
The red-skinned, cycloptic demoness looked up and grinned with her thick, braces-lined fangs. By now the lack of pressure on the review was obvious.
“You’ve been overheard gossiping about customers, sometimes right in front of them. And that’s when you’re not telling them off or insulting them to their faces.”
“Shometimesh they desherve it…”
“Hell yea they do. Always asking for shit… and having somebody who can actually magic around here is good for those hard to reach places. Good work. Annnnd Skye.
The centaur tossed her head, making her freshly dyed blue hair toss around over her pale brown fur.
“You actively tease the customers on their meal choices, you don’t work anything but the back area with drive thru, and I had to buy you time that one time with the health inspector when you were fucking some guy by the freezer.”
“Yea, but he was super cute,” she pointed out. “Actual cock on him, unlike half the guys around here.”
A few of the other girls muttered or nodded in agreement.
“Yea, well, nobody else likes working drive thru, and you can do it with a straight face even when you’re getting blasted from behind. So no worries there. I hope we all learned a little something from all this today.”
Dirge tossed her clipboard lazily onto the counter.
“That customers are whiny, needy bitches,” Peggy pointed out.
“With little dicks, apparently?” AJ added.
“Damn right,” Dirge nodded. “That’s why you’re my girls. Now let’s get paid and piss some people off by not paying that much attention.”
“Woo!”
“Nice.”
“Thanks, mom.”
“Yea, mom.”
“Yea, getting paid to listen beats actually working.”