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You are tempted to go through the front entrance and see how the business operates or, hell, to eat the food. A part of you tells you that maybe it would be wise to cut to the chase. You slowly sneak over to the dumpster where you last saw the backdoor. Last time you checked, doors don't disappear. You pass by Benjamin who's still surrounded by half rotten burgers. "Oh, hey!" He waves at you.
You simply nod in response before kneeling in front of the backdoor. You pull out the lockpick set Alexis gives you. It's impressive what kind of stuff she can get you, this looks way better than making a lockpick out of a bobbypin and hope to god that it works. You were hoping it was unlocked so you could just sneak in but sadly this joint cared enough to lock it.
>22
Not that it matters. It's not the first lock you forced open before. What's the old saying? Locks only keep honest people away? With elegant and quick movements, your picks force the door open without so much as a hint of resistance. You don't think you made any noise. Good, no point letting THEM hear you coming. Silent, Nicole, silent. You place your finger on your ear piece.
"Door opened. Sneaking inside. Stay close." You open the door and shuffle inside. You hear the door open as Benjamin follows right behind you. You wait a bit to see if Alexis comes with. You hear her voice over the earpiece. "I rather stay outside in case anything WEIRD is going on there. Thanks." You can hear an obvious nervousness in her tone.
[UNSTABLE] SHE THINKS SHE'S CLEVER, HUH? OKAY. LET HER FEEL 'SAFE' OUT THERE. WE DON'T FUCKING NEED HER.
Currently, you two are in a small hallway with a walk in freezer, a cleaning closet, and the exit door. Besides that, there's a small path forwards.
You usher Benjamin forward as the two of you sneak your way deeper into the kitchen of the fast food joint. You turn a corner to peer into the kitchen. The first thing you notice is the sheer chaos going on here. About a dozen people in fast food uniforms are trying their best to make food in the kitchen. You can't exactly blame them since the place is a mess of grease, old machinery, and randomly labeled boxes. You're as lost as they are trying to find what's what.
"I FUCKING TOLD YOU THAT WE NEEDED KEBABS MADE BEFORE THE SHIFT STARTED!" A young man screeches over the hectic noise of the kitchen. You two peer around the corner to get a better look. There's a brown haired man in his early 20s wearing a short white toque and a buttoned up double breast jacket. A look of utter <span class="mu-r">fury</span> rests on his face. "AM I THE ONLY ONE HERE WHO KNOWS HOW TO COOK A FUCKING MEAL?! I HAVE TWO DIPSHIT BEGGING FOR A KEBAB FOR TWELVE MINUTES AND IF I DON'T GET ONE SOON, I'LL FUCKING STAB SOMEONE!"
A man in his 30s exits an office that's right next to the kitchen. He has bright red hair and wears a decidedly not chef-like outfit of a black collared dress shirt, dress pants, and dress shoes. "Benedict, what did I tell you?"
