AA and NN 1 rephrased: AA along with NN 1.
"Here you go, it's all yours," the peculiar guy declared as he gave back the key.
The indifferent employee at the storage unit rental counter seemed perplexed. He stretched out his hand to grab the storage key and responded with a monotonous, "Thanks mate," before going back to browsing his phone.
The unusual guy didn't seem to care in the least. He vanished like he was wearing an imaginary cape. But of course, he had nothing like that draped on his robust shoulders.
The front desk employee was about to hang the key back on the wall with other keys hanging on rows and columns of hooks when his superior appeared from the back room.
"Was that... Fitcher?" The mild-mannered manager's voice had a steady tempo.
"Yep, definitely was."
"Didn't he check-out yesterday?"
"Yup, he did."
"Do you care about anything, Carl?"
"No, not really."
The manager's temper flared up a tad. His cheeks turned slightly red, and his jaw muscles suggested he was clinching his teeth.
"So, you want to clear 'em out of the storage unit?"
Carl shrugged.
The manager's face colored more as his cheeks and jaw muscles indicated he was clenching his teeth.
"Gonna save it for an auction tomorrow or something?" Carl asked, his eyes half-closed.
The manager exploded. "He had... the storage unit... FOR JUST ONE DAY. ONE DAMN DAY!!! Are you telling me you don't care about anything, Carl?" The manager shouted.
Carl remained nonchalant, "Yeah, that's right."
The manager vanished back into the backroom and Carl put the key back in its place. Unit 729.
The following day, the manager waited calmly in front of storage unit 729. A few prospects were already there, but not many. The unit had only been rented for 1 day. The agreement was for 1 month, and the idiot Fitcher had paid extra for the severance clause. The manager sported a smile, though he didn't converse with the potential buyers. He maintained a smile for optics.
Carl ambled into view along the row of outdoor storage units, "Got a phone call for you," he told the manager.
The manager clenched his teeth behind his smile and wrapped an arm around Carl, turning him away from the bystanders. "Don't bother me now, I'm dealing with this clusterf*ck because you didn't want to sort this out so we could rent it again."
"I could've cleaned it," Carl replied nonchalantly.
The manager's heart was racing. It took all his self-control to not do something he'd regret.
"Just... Take... A... Message," the manager enunciated through gritted teeth and shoved Carl away.
The manager returned to his pleasant smile, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new unit here that was occupied for 1 day. I know what you're thinking, nothing in there, right? Well, consider this, if the person who rented this unit didn't want to put anything in there, why did he pay all that money... huh? Could be he packed some old stuff in there, like antiques, what do antiques mean? Value and sentimental feelings, right?"
The manager's voice faltered. He wasn't an auctioneer, and the actual auctioneer had been absent. Even though storage unit 729 wasn't the only container available for auction that day, the establishment had a shady reputation for producing valuable items.
Then, a voice interrupted the awkward lull.
"Five. I'll do it for five bucks."
Cackles erupted among the potential buyers.
Another voice piped up, "I'll take it for five bucks."
"Ten," the first voice proclaimed. This one had blonde hair and old jeans. He even brandished a ten dollar bill.
The second guy shrugged and the blonde walked up and handed the ten dollars to the manager.
The manager was furious.
He fished the key out of his pocket and bent down to unlock the padlock on the unit.
He whipped the roller door up by the handle and, face the little group. He spread his hand out and grandly declared, "Feast your eyes on..."
His speech was disrupted as gulps escaped the listeners. The manager noticed the blonde stepping away. "What the hell are you..."
The manager swiftly turned around and his face became pale.
A fully naked woman with ginger hair was secured to a chain from the ceiling of the unit, her wrists drawn up. She was on her knees on the concrete floor of the unit. Saliva dribbled from the ballgag she wore onto her large breasts. A large dildo had been shoved into her pussy, and she was attempting to endure it by pointing her toes to achieve some height. Her ankles were chained in such a way that she couldn't rise. The floor was wet with her pussy fluid. She moaned and gazed at the sudden sunlight with her attractive hazel eyes.
Some men began recording the entire occurrence, and the manager spread his hands wide, trying to conceal the woman. But it was just shame he was attempting to hide.
The manager lowered the roller door to conceal the woman.
His mind labored in vein as he endeavored to escape from the circumstance. It was his blunder. He didn't inspect the fucking unit. This was a legal situation. He'd have to provide Figgis's details to the cops. There'd be an entire inquiry. But wait. Perhaps he could still salvage this.
However, the blond man had already reopened the unit door and had taken off the woman's ballgag.
"FUCK ME!" She shrieked.
"PLEASE! I NEED YOUR DICK I CAN'T ENDURE IT ANY LONGER!"
The manager recognized he was in deep trouble. He had to attempt to pin the blame on Carl. There was no other option. It didn't matter that the manager was the one with the duty. Carl required to buy into this. [SOLVED]