Chapter 4

"Thank you so much sir! You won't regret it. I can promise you." At this point, Alva was basically hopping around like a rabbit.

" Ehem", the Chef coughed, "I hope not" he turned his face away quickly. As someone who didn't really have access to any sort of cleaning facilities, he obviously couldn't also clean up the profuse accessories of smells that came out of his mouth every time he spoke. The chef was already at his limit and had already been gagging for some time.

Alva acted oblivious to this, of course, he couldn't breath such foul air to his new boss on purpose. He might get fired! This was the slums, someone just got fired for being a simp.

" Errm, boss?"

"What do you want?" He didn't even turn his face back toward Alva as he asked.

" Do you... by any chance, have a place for me to stay?" Alva asked hesitantly he had missed his way and couldn't find the route back to his butt spot additionally, it would take way too long for him to go back and forth from his cosy sidewalk to the chef's restaurant. Aptly named" The Chef".

The chef just side-eyed him stupendously. He was amazed at the audacity of this kid. What bravery. The chef was just about to say no when he saw Fred, the guy he just fired, staring at him with a smirk on his face, as if daring him to say no. "You know what? Yeah, sure. It's that small building across the street." He pointed in the direction of a small white one bedroom building.

This might be the slums but, there were undefined ranks to these places. This could be described as the better parts of the slums, so Not everything here was too nasty and broken down. However, the paint job was never to good. Somebody around here could think you have more money than you actually do and decide that you had a lot of money to share, if you catch my drift.

" But-" Fred protested.

" You'll be sharing it with Fred" Fred quickly shut his mouth as soon as he noticed the death stares coming from the chef.

" Fred, kindly lead him there, okay. You've lost your job, I wouldn't want you to lose your house too."

Fred reluctantly obliged. It seemed the chef, called Chefy by the cooks, was really serious this time. If he didn't comply, not only would he have lost his job but, he would also lose his house too. He couldn't afford to go back to the streets.

" Come with me, boy, I wouldn't want you to go missing or something right?" He spoke ominously.

" No sir we wouldn't", Alva smiled back, he wasn't someone who was dumb. He could obviously notice when someone was being mean or evil to him. He just wouldn't mess this chance up for a fool who already did. He had to keep his emotions under control and figure out how to accomplish his goal- starting a running food business that made at least a 1000 jays per month in profit- sigh, life was so hard on him!

As they walked into the house, Fred started to give him a tour. Just like an experienced tour guide. He has probably been living here for a long time, Alva thought.

" This is the bathroom.

The kitchen.

The living room, and finally, the bedroom."

It had a bunk bed but it looked like a war with rats and mice had occured on the mattresses. Wait a minute... were those pee stains? Ewww

Alva couldn't believe he slept on those.

He would much rather sleep in a garbage can than on a bed stained dark yellow from probably years of pee.

Fred noticed Alva's horrified look and tried to defend himself.

" It's not mine, it's the rats. Sometimes they have a pee contest to see which rat can pee the most on the mattress. It should be some form of a show of dominance. Don't worry it only happens once a month, and, if you're lucky, the pee won't enter your mouth and wake you up. It also won't cause your girlfriend to not want to kiss you."

Alva's stares only got more disgusted. He was pretty sure that at least 20 percent of the pee on those beds were from Fred and, he had a creeping feeling that Fred's girlfriend didn't want to kiss him for other reasons.

" Thank you but, I hope you don't mind me taking the chair in the living room?"

Fred gazed at him as if he were mad.

" Did you really think I would let you touch my beds?" He stepped in between Alva and his beds with his arms outstretched in a protective way.

Was this guy actually proud of his accomplishments? What did this guy want, a gold medal?

Alva quickly noticed his cue.

" Of course not, how could I take such wonderful beds from you? Please, enjoy them while I take the couch."

" Hmph! Good! You know your place. Don't expect me to lend you one of my blankets either!"

"Alva turned and stared at a pile of blankets filled with brown pellets, outdated cigarette butts, and stinky blotches of brown. He didn't even want to guess at what they might be and quickly turned back to face Fred. What if this crazy maniac insisted on him taking one of those blankets? He might have to quit his job but, it would be worth it. He hadn't yet stooped that low to use such pieces of toile- ehem, blankets. He had used ones covered in blood, snot, and dog saliver. Heck, he had even gone without a jacket or blanket sometimes.

" Oh, thank you for your kind generosity but I don't think I'll be needing them." He quickly exited the room and thanked God that he was at least given a chance to change his situation. He didn't want to die in that same state. Now, he could start think about how to accomplish his goal- creating a running food company that brings in 1000 jays in profits!"