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Fletch the Oven Master

The fluorescent glow of the Pizza Hut kitchen had never been Fletch's preferred lighting. His natural habitat, the realm of the orcs, boasted the harsh, beautiful glare of volcanic ash and the flickering torchlight of cavernous halls. Here, it was the relentless hum of fryers and the clatter of pizza trays. Fletch, an ogre-type monster whose hulking frame barely fit beneath the low-slung ceilings, had endured another shift. The final buzzer for the last delivery order echoed like a distant war drum. Fletch, whose official title was, "Oven Master & Dough Specialist", slammed a fresh Supreme into its thermal bag. "Done", he rumbled, a sound that made the teenage cashier jump. The red Pizza Hut polo, stretched taut across his broad, greenish chest, felt like a straightjacket. The smell of processed cheese and stale bread clung to him like a desperate limpet. He didn't bother with the staff locker room. The polo was ripped off with a single, powerful tug...
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The Birdie Song Unplugged



I couldn't believe it. The once-serene and dignified atmosphere of my living room was now consumed by the undignified and frenzied dance of The Birdie Song. A group of five young girls, clad in neon tutus and feather boas, were twisting and leaping around the room, their little bodies moving in sync to the cheery, infectious tune. I watched, both amused and annoyed, as they flapped their arms like wings and shook their behinds with reckless abandon.
As if on cue, the youngest of the group, a curly-haired girl no more than six years old, skipped over to me and tugged at my pant leg. "Come on, Auntie Liz! Join us!" she exclaimed, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief.
I couldn't resist her eager pleading, so with a sigh, I got up from my armchair and joined the dancing frenzy. For a few moments, I let go of my worries and just bopped along with the girls, feeling their carefree energy infuse my body. And as we reached the chorus, I couldn't help but smile and join in on the lyrics, "With a little bit of this, and a little bit of that, and a shake your bum!"
Before I knew it, the song was over and the girls were scampering off to the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room, breathless and grinning like a fool. But for those few minutes, I had forgotten all about the stress and responsibilities of adult life. I had let myself be swept away by the simple joy of a silly song and a child's innocent request. And as I sank back into my armchair, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the reminder to let loose and enjoy the little things in life.

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