SYOL (Take 1)

Bzzt.

Orange looked down at his buzzer, surprised. Someone was already contacting him? Well, he wouldn't complain. The less downtime he had, the better! He flipped it open and gave the caller a pleasant "Hello! How can I help you?".

"Look up."

Orange furrowed his brow. Was this a prank call? Given that this dimension was essentially a clubhouse for wannabe villains, it wasn't that far-fetched of an idea. So he looked up and was suddenly up to three uteri. Another orange fellow – not quite as orange and Orange himself and definitely less friendly-looking – had somehow managed to stick himself on the ceiling. Before Orange could question him, he had dropped down and had his arm around Orange's shoulder.

"So, what've we got here? An intern, huh? Great! Needed some help." He began, grabbing the buzzer and closing it up. He slammed his fist on a seemingly random button, and Orange knew he was in for one hell of a day. His intention was to ask "What can I help you with?" in the most professional tone possible, but he wound up saying "please don't eat me" under his breath.

"What?"

"W-What can I help you with?" Orange stuttered. Close enough.

"You know, just the daily hell-raising. Nothing big, nothing special. You in?"

Orange wasn't sure if raising hell was something he was capable of, nor was he sure it was something he wanted to do. Besides, raise hell here? Sounded like something that would get him on All-Conquering Overlord Hadris Torant's bad side, and that wasn't a place he wanted to be.

"Um…I'm not sure if that's a good idea." Orange advised, trying his hardest not to shake. He wasn't sure whose bad side he should be more afraid of. "I'd imagine you'd get in trouble…"

Mysterious Ceiling Guy frowned, looking almost repulsed by Orange's concern. He leaned in closer, far closer than Orange would have ever wanted.

"Are you a pussy, kid?"

"W-What?"

"I said," Even closer. "Are you a pussy, kid?"

"I'm the biggest pussy you'll ever meet, sir." Orange answered off of the top of his head. He was being honest, at least. Mysterious Ceiling Guy snickered and backed away, but Orange didn't let himself relax just yet. He had a feeling this wasn't over.

"Come on, man, you can't be serious. Why the hell would Drew hire a piece of shit like you?" he groaned. Orange didn't think much of the insult, only concerned that this incident would somehow lead to him getting fired. Or worse.

"Maybe to make the other employees look better?" Orange offered, not entirely sure if he was being sarcastic or not. Either way, the comment seemed to improve his companion's mood.

"Heh. At least you know what a waste of space you are." Said companion grinned. Orange shifted uncomfortably. That grin was the least comforting thing ever. "But, you know what? I think I'll make you a little less shitty every day. Not like you've got a choice, intern."

"Sounds…sounds wonderful, sir." Orange lied, sounding more hopeless than sarcastic.

"'Sir'. I like that. You know how to kiss ass, kid. But if you really want to get on my good side, it's SirLausac. Got it?"

"Understood, Mr. Sir Lausac, sir." Orange confirmed with a sigh. Before either could continue, the elevator opened up. The floor before them looked like a supply closet or a vault of some sort, barely able to hold more than one person and still be comfortable. Lausac exited the elevator and Orange reluctantly followed, knowing that he was going to get dragged along either way. Such was the life of a lowly intern.

"All right, let's see here. Better start you off easy since you're so pathetic…" Lausac said mostly to himself as he started browsing through a drawer full of neatly organized and labeled keys. It didn't take long for him to pick up one with a tag that read "Flannie" in barely legible writing. Orange noted that it was one of the few with a name; as far as he could see, most of the keys were tagged with numbers. Room numbers, perhaps? Oh, this definitely wasn't going anywhere good.

"Err, Mr. Sir Lausac, sir?" he spoke up as he followed Lausac back into the elevator, "Is what you're about to do legal in the slightest?"

"What we're about to do." Lausac corrected with another disconcerting grin. "And, for fuck's sake, what don't you seem to understand? Do I look like the kind of guy who follows the law? Does 'daily hell-raising' sound legal? Goddamn, kid. You've gotta be the dullest intern yet!"

Orange let his shoulders drop. He wasn't insulted, but he was definitely concerned. "I apologize, Mr. Sir Lausac, sir…it's my first day, and I'm not sure what the culture here is like. It was an honest question."

Lausac sighed, sounding frustrated. "Listen up, intern. This place belongs to an evil overlord, but Drew still insists on keeping things 'under control' here. So do whatever the fuck you want as long as you don't get caught by Drew, go too far and make it a big deal, or do it in front of a snitch. But, really, you shouldn't even care right now because…"

He slowly turned his head toward Orange in a manner that made him feel like he was in a horror movie. "No one punishes me. Not even Drew. You got that, intern?"

Orange didn't believe a word of it, but a job was a job. He just hoped he came out of whatever this was alive. "Got it."

The elevator opened up in the basement, which only unsettled Orange further. Lausac motioned for him to be quiet and follow him as he weaved through aisles of boxes that were making questionable noises. They reached a dead end, which seemed to be Lausac's intention given his lack of concern. He stepped on the wall and started walking up it, either unaware or not caring that Orange wasn't following.

"Um, Mr. Sir Lausac, sir? I can't walk on walls." He informed him. Lausac looked down and groaned loudly and dramatically, upsetting the rows of moaning boxes below. He walked back down and grabbed Orange by the collar, practically dragging him up with him despite the fact that Orange could walk on walls as long as he was in contact with Lausac. Within a minute they were on the ceiling – Orange was trying his hardest not to look down or up or whichever direction showed him there was one hell of a fall if Lausac let go of him – and had reached some sort of panel with a lock on it. Lausac slid it open after using the key and stepped inside, forcing Orange along with him. Once they were inside – wherever they were, it was pitch black – Lausac slid the panel shut and stood up, searching for something.

"Aha! Here we go."

Click.

A light turned on, revealing that the two were in a large walk-in closet.

A girl's walk-in closet.

Full of lingerie.

Orange's face turned red instantly.

"M-Mr. Sir Lausac, sir? I really don't think we should be here and we should really probably leave…" he recommended, whispering out of the worry that whoever owned this closet was here and would hear them.

"Oh, for God's sake, don't tell me you've never gone on a panty raid before!"

"Um…no, I haven't. I'm not really into that kind of thing…"

"Are you serious? These are the basics! You've seriously never even…oh, forget it. I should stop underestimating how pathetic you are. What do you even do with your life?" Lausac asked, exasperated.

"…Not much, Mr. Sir Lausac, sir." Orange admitted. "Not much at all."

"Well, whatever. Guess there's no point in bitching about it now. Here, hold this stuff."

Much to Orange's panic and dismay, Lausac started tossing whatever he found remotely interesting back at him. He couldn't bring himself to enjoy the experience at all.

"Mr. Sir Lausac, sir, what's the point of even-"

Before Orange could finish complaining and Lausac could roll his eyes and ignore him, the door opened. Standing there was a woman with unnaturally long red hair clad in only a towel. They all stared blankly at each other for a moment before the girl's hair literally stood on end.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she yelled, causing Orange to drop all of the lingerie he forgot he was holding and Lausac to burst into laughter.

"Just breaking in the new intern, same thing as usual. He's the worst intern ever, you know." Lausac 'explained'. The girl growled, looking more annoyed than bloodthirsty. Orange figured that was better than nothing.

"Damn it all, what did I tell you about dragging people here, you sick freak?! Get out, get out, get out! Get out right this second! If I ever see your face again, I'll kill you!"

"That's what you said last time!" Lausac taunted, yanking Orange's arm out of its socket – at least, it sure felt that way – running past the girl, and bolting out of her apartment and into the hallway. He assumed they were safe there, so he opened his mouth to say something when the girl appeared just outside of the doorway. Her eyes were completely black, her teeth were as sharp as a shark's, and there was just a horribly wrong aura about here.

"Fine, then I'll keep my promise!" she hissed, her voice unnatural and in violation of everything Orange found right in the world. Lausac, on the other hand, was only encouraged by the malicious tone in her words, and grabbed Orange again. He just let Lausac drag him along in stunned silence, only speaking up once they entered an elevator.

"Why." He stated bluntly. Lausac shrugged in response, whistling along to the elevator music as the girl's unintelligible angry ramblings grew fainter and fainter. The elevator opened on the roof, which was surprisingly empty. Orange had expected the roof to be something more than a mostly blank surface floating in a white void, but he had greater concerns at the moment. Namely the monstrous, hulking thing that once was a girl that had burst forth from the stairwell. Orange jumped behind Lausac in alarm, but he naturally wasn't really much protection.

"Ehh…this is getting kind of boring now. I think I'll ditch. Good luck, intern!"

Just as Orange was about to inquire how he planned to escape, Lausac dropped right through the floor. Ceiling. Roof. Surface. Orange squeaked. He hadn't even managed to keep his job for one day. Oh well, at least he was going to die instead of get fired and live forever in purposeless shame…

Or, so he assumed. As soon as Lausac was out of the picture, the unholy being before Orange suddenly returned to its original demure form, towel and all. Before Orange could get down on his knees and apologize feverishly regardless, the girl had her hands clasped.

"Oh, I'm so sorry…Orange, is it?" she began, looking at his name tag. "Did I hurt you at all? Did thatjerk hurt you at all?"

The girl circled him, looking for any visible injuries. Orange allowed his tense muscles to relax, but couldn't get rid of the feeling that he was a fisherman in the middle of shark-infested waters.

"Um, no, I'm fine…are you okay, miss?" Orange asked in return, causing a surprisingly bubbly smile to come to the girl's face.

"Oh, no need to worry about me! This happens all the time! Lausac drags an intern or some other innocent soul over, they somehow manage to get in my closet, they end up stealing my underwear or I caught them, I threaten to kill him and sometimes chase after him…it's not really that big of a deal. I was just worry that I might accidentally eviscerate someone that isn't him!" she giggled. Orange didn't think giggling and the word "eviscerate" belonged in the same breath, but his nerves let it slide.

"Oh, well, uh…I'm pretty sure all of my organs are intact, so we're okay on that front." He laughed nervously in response. "Um, what was your name, miss?"

"Right, I should definitely introduce myself! My name is Flann Fennella. You can call me whatever you want as long as it's not Flannie!"

She offered him a handshake, then quickly remembered she was only wearing a towel and decided against it.

"Erm, sorry, I think I should probably get back to my room now." She realized, blushing as she gave Orange her own nervous laugh.

"Before you go, Miss Fennella, you should probably know that Sir Lausac has a door that leads into your closet." Orange mentioned, deciding that at this point in time he'd rather be on Lausac's bad side than Flann's. He was sure he'd regret it within the week, but Orange wasn't one to ponder the future.

"What? Seriously?! No wonder he keeps getting in even when I change the locks! Ugh, that perverted son of a…"

"Miss Fennella? Your hair is doing that thing again…" he pointed out, jotting down a mental note that Flann's hair started moving on its own whenever she got angry. As soon as he finished speaking, her hair fell limp again and another smile came to her face.

"Right, right. Well, anyway, maybe I'll see you again, Orange! Make sure you stay away from Lausac, okay? He's really the worst person to hang around." She cautioned.

"I'll certainly try." Orange promised, having no problem with the idea of avoiding Lausac. He waved as she walked away and disappeared down the stairwell, leaving Orange alone with his thoughts. He didn't dwell on them for very long, deciding it was best to just go back down to his room and pretend that this day never happened. It was awfully silly, after all. It could definitely pass for a dream.

Upon returning to his room, Orange picked the rulebook off of his nightstand and began flipping through it, finally feeling at peace again until it occurred to him that his buzzer was missing. He frantically searched through his pockets before remembering that Lausac had taken it earlier when they'd first met. Orange grimaced at the thought of either having to confront Lausac again or having to explain what happened to All-Conquering Overlord Hadris Torant in order to get another buzzer, but decided that, for now, he was too drained to bother dealing with it.

He flopped backwards back onto his bed and read – well, for the most part he just stared blankly at the pages – through the rulebook before eventually falling asleep.

Rule 19: Never trust Lausac Pardes.