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Well. You're not going to get involved. The man with the X-Acto knife is jittery as fuck. Who knows what the fuck he'll do if you confront him. Might as well go get the bouncer.
“Boss!” Lily calls out, hand waving in the air erratically. Oh god. Not right now. In attempt to dodge the problem, you avoid eye contact, instead grabbing a bottle of... something and pretend to inspect its contents. “B-Boss, I need some assistance.” She shakes your shoulder in a desperate attempt to catch your attention.
Fuck. “Uh,” you stall, giving the man a fake smile. “I overheard the situation and I think I can help. Can I speak to my associate about this? I can get back to you in a few seconds–”
“No,” the man cuts you off. He squeezes the handle of the knife, swinging the thing around shakily. This guy is out of control, holy shit. You back off immediately. “It's a now kind of problem.”
Alrighty then, you're under pressure. Don't panic. Remain calm. “Understood. Great. Uh, Caaaaaaaarl!” you shout, though it is more of a scream at this point.
The man with the knife sees the lumbering Carl enter the premises and gets overly-excited, lunging towards your position. Too bad Lily is in the way. Oh.... fuck. Slamming Lily to the ground, you trade places with her. Now if only you could get away too. You can't react fast enough to dodge, so you leave it up to fate and block with your arm. Annnnnd holy fuck, your arm hurts like shit, as if you got fucking stabbed. OH WAIT. FUCK. The blade pierces the skin and leaves a FUCKING PLEASANT JESUS CHRIST gouge on your forearm. Luckily, the wound isn't too deep because it was an X-Acto knife but it's a stab wound nonetheless.
Carl restrains the man, pinning him down on the floor. The knife clatters to the ground, sliding on the polished wood. And with that, the bar resumes its normal activities. Maybe you're a little bitter, but can't these fucking clowns show a little bit of respect to the guy who just got stabbed?
Momiji leaves the kitchen, furrowing her brow in frustration. She must have heard the ruckus. Glancing upon your wound, she snarls and narrows her eyes. “What the fuck? Who did this shit to you? Should I whip somebody's ass?”
“Chill, Cook,” you groan, exhaling in an attempt to relieve the sharp pain from the wound. You point at the man being pinned down by Carl with your other hand. “The situation's already handled. Our bouncer has the assailant detained. As much as I would like to return the favor, I'm not allowed to do anything dumb as the manager. You should get back to work..”
“What the hell? Really?” Momiji, in clear frustration, kicks at the floor near the perpetrator, glaring at the man. “I'm not satisfied until I get an eye for an eye.”
“Listen, I'm not in the fucking mood to talk,” you seethe, perfectly wary of the blood trickling down your arm. Red dribble drips down to your pant leg. “Get back to the kitchen. Now.”
“...Fine,” Momiji mumbles in dissatisfaction, walking back to the kitchen in a silent rage. Honestly, you can't really blame her for being angry. You're plenty angry right now but as the manager, you have to stop this shitfest.
Lily, cowering under one of the chairs, meekly gets up. Her first response is to dip her head and hunch forward, like she did something wrong. “Are you alright, boss?”
You attempt to gesture with your hand but instead reel over one of the tables, muttering some obscenities because you had the fucking bright idea to move your arm. “No. I just got stabbed, but that's aside the point. I need you to do some things for me, Lily. First call the cops and detain this son of a bitch. Then go get me some disinfectant from the first aid cabinet. Peroxide's fine.”
“O-Okay,” she nods her head unsteadily. Her hands are shaking like shit. You really doubt she'll be able to do anything until she calms down.
Well then. “On second thought, ask Cassie to do said things. You sit down for ten minutes.”
“But–” she protests.
“Ten minutes, Lily.”
Her face is a mix of miserable and self-loathing but she complies, silently slinking away to go find Cassie.
You rest your arm, wound facing up on the table. You got a clear slice from your forearm and a clean stab below your wrists. Hopefully, the knife didn't horrifically destroy your arteries or some shit like that. The wound itself isn't too huge, but fuck if it doesn't ache.
Cassie comes in, Lily slinking behind her. In Cassie's hand is the dull brown peroxide bottle. “How's your hand, boss? Are your dreams as an aspiring artist dead? Will you never play the drums again? Are you going to die?”
“I'm dying but only on the inside,” you sigh, grabbing the bottle with your left hand. You decide to treat your wound right here and right now until the cops detain the man. Unscrewing the cap, you dab some peroxide on your wound. It's as pleasant as you expect it to be. “Fucking shit, that stings.”
You glance over to the perpetrator. The stabber-fucker has been surprisingly docile after the assault, remaining perfectly still under Carl's grasp. Maybe it's because the assailant realizes he'll be crushed instantaneously if he does anything stupid.
The cops take their leisurely time, arriving about twenty-five minutes after the incident. They immediately cuff the X-Acto knife man and send him into custody, chucking him into the car after Carl relinquishes him.
“Sorry for the mess,” you apologize to a familiar mustached cop. You've seen him around a lot – he handled all of the cases that the Morning Spirits Pub was involved with.
“The Morning Spirits Pub always brings activity to the law enforcement, doesn't it?” He nods curtly, motioning for another man to come closer to take pictures of your wound. “Could you tell me more about what happened?”
“I was stabbed. I don't have anything else to add other than it hurts like shit.” You never know how to act towards cops. You can't help but feel like a suspicious man working in a seedy bar. Working here, it only feels like a matter of time before you have a bad run-in with the police.
The cop sighs, loosening his tie. “I'm writing that in as your statement. Do you want to receive medical care?”
“Alright then. It's your funeral.” He dips his hat to you, “We'll be in touch.”
“We'll see.” Well then. If nothing else is happening, you'll work on that incident report. Or rather. “Lily.”
Your employee looks up from her seat. “Yes?”
“Have you calmed down?”
She takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah.”
“Great. Because we have incidents to report.” The actual incident report is to be submitted to your boss, but your boss is well, nowhere to be found. Regardless, there is a procedure to this, no matter how fucking useless it is.
“...Yay,” she sulks.
Moving to the office, you look through the table cabinet until you find the appropriate file. Handing to Lily, you make a motion for her to write. “Time of incident: roughly 6:30 P.M. Perpetrator was a white male in their thirties, more or less. After a confrontation with the waitress, the man elevated conflict by assaulting the manager with an X-Acto knife. Injuries consist of one stab wound to the forearm to the manager. Are you keeping up, Lily?”
She shakes her head in exasperation. “Give me a moment, you're talking too fast!”
“No, you're writing too slow.” Despite your complaints, you give Lily a slight pause for her to catch up. A very slight one. “The bouncer handled the situation by disarming the man and pinning him down. Police came in and detained the man with the knife. Make sure to write down the date too.”
“Alright, it's done.”
“Good. Now you've learned how to make an incident report. Easy, right? I'm trusting you to make one by yourself when I inevitably die to crossfire in the pub.”
You shrug. “Anything else you'd like to add before I leave work early?”
“Actually... it's about Cook. I know it's a little sudden but I feel like you've been treating him differently than the rest of us. You seem more... I don't know, honest, with him. Is it because he is a guy?”
[ ] “Well, duh?”
[ ] “Actually, Cook is a girl.”