You couldn't recall the last time the video store was this packed. With the curfew set in place due to the recent murders, the citizens of Woodsboro flocked to the establishment. It wasn't all that surprising that they sought video entertainment, but it sure was sudden.

Since the store's daily crowd was sparse, the only active employees were you and Randy. Of course, there was your boss who hired you, but she was always busy with higher-up matters. With such a small town like Woodsboro, you didn't think this many people would show up all at once.

Luckily, you and Randy had shortened shifts in light of the curfew, so all you had to do was make it through this rush hour. He spent his time restocking the videos in their rightful place while you handled purchases at the register.

Customer after customer, you rang people up at a rapid pace. From time to time, you would peer over at Randy, and he would be dicking around like driving the rolling cart like a maniac. You could only continue to work with clenched teeth. You would much rather be working on the floor than being the cashier, but you weren't sure that kid even knew how to count. Not only that, but you had heard Randy getting scolded for ringing people up wrong a handful of times. Your boss trusted you substantially more than him, considering the fact he'd been fired twice. The store was dreadfully understaffed to not accept him back each time.

You began to notice that more and more customers were leaving the store empty-handed. You swore if Randy had anything to do with that you were going to pummel him. At least the rush was dying down.

Finally getting a moment of peace, you decide to confront Randy about his recklessness. You had enough of his disregard for the safety of customers after having witnessed him nearly crash the rolling cart into a couple. On top of that, his friend, who you've come to know as Stu Macher, came up behind him and knocked all the videos out of his hands. Despite that, the ginger made no attempts to reprimand his friend for his negligence.

With a deep breath in, you approach your lax co-worker, "Randall."

"Oh, boy," Stu firmly pats his friend's shoulder, silently wishing him the best of luck.

Randy mutters something incoherent, preparing himself for a scolding.

You roll your eyes, thinking to yourself, 'I don't want to have this conversation just as much as you do.'

"Listen, dude, I'm not trying to be on your back or anything. I get the store busier than usual, but you can't ride the cart around with no spatial awareness. The boss is gonna kill you if she finds out you almost hurt some of the customers, and she's gonna be riding my ass about it, asking why I'm not a better influence on you. Just get your shit together, okay?"

Wanting to avoid conflict, Randy kept his head down as he restocked the shelves and nodded along to whatever you were going on about.

Stu nudges your elbow, "Charming as always, Y/N," He winks, shooting you a grin.

"And while you're at it, could you tell your friend here not to damage the merchandise?" You jest, ignoring him.

Stu pouts, "Aw, come on. I was just messing around. You think lil' ol' me could do that?" He bats his eyelashes at you in feigned innocence.

"I don't care what you do, but you break it, you buy it, Macher," You huff.

"Uh-huh, sure. Hey, you're off early 'cause of the curfew, right? You should come to my party," The lanky teen extends an invitation to you.

You stare at him, baffled, "A party at your house? In the middle of nowhere? Where your nearest neighbor is like 10 miles away? While there's a killer on the loose? No chance, man."

Randy scoffs, "Don't be such a party-pooper. You're less likely to die in a house crowded with people. Besides, if Tatum's coming, Dewey's bound to be around somewhere."

"How comforting," You remark, deadpan.

Stu hooks his arm around your shoulders, "Don't listen to him, there's nothing to worry about. I've got your back, bro," He flexes his other arm to prove himself.

"My hero," You reply sarcastically, shrugging his arm off and making your way back to the register.

After your talk with Randy, you expected the rest of your shift to go off without a hitch. Maybe it's time you lowered your expectations when it comes to Randy because the next thing you know, he's shouting at Stu.

"His body will come popping up in the last reel somewhere. Eyes gouged out, fingers cut off, teeth knocked out!"

Stu glances at you before looking back at Randy, signaling him to quiet down. "Man!" He warns him through clenched teeth.

Randy pays him no mind, continuing his rant without caution. He frantically waves the movies in his hands, spewing nonsense. You catch the tail end of his spiel that causes the store to fall silent, "There's a formula to it, a very simple formula! Everybody's a suspect!"

The customer you're ringing up pauses, their hand hovering next to yours as you were handing them their bag.

You straighten up, clearing your throat, "Sorry about him, he's a new hire," You lie, giving your best customer service smile.

They nod, buying into your excuse, and scurry out the door.

You allow your face to relax when they exit your line of sight.

The rest of the store recovers from its sudden hush as the customers resume their chattering.

Looking over at Randy, you see him trapped between Stu and another one of his friends, Billy Loomis. Sighing, you pinch your nose bridge, "You've gotta be kidding me."

Movies clatter onto the floor following Billy's decision to slap them out of Randy's hands. "Maybe your movie-freaked mind lost its reality button. You ever think of that?" He sneers at the frightened teen, keeping a tight grip on the collar of his shirt.

Randy wishes he could take back his accusation of Billy being the killer, or at least that Billy hadn't heard him. "You're absolutely right, I'm the first to admit it. If this were a scary movie, I'd be the prime suspect," He responds, truthfully.

Stu messed with Randy's ear-lobe, "And what would be–"

"Excuse me?" You interrupt, breaking off whatever weird staring contest Stu and Billy were having. "Gentlemen," Your use of the word is quite lenient, "if you could step away and stop harassing my co-worker, that would be greatly appreciated." The grin plastered on your face is tight-knit, juxtaposed to your brash tone.

Billy unfurls his fist, letting go of Randy's shirt as Stu detaches himself from the shorter teen. Randy breathes a sigh of relief, thankful you stepped in and came to his rescue.

"And you," Your focus is entirely on the ginger," you're not off the hook yet. What did I say about damaging the merchandise?" Your foot taps impatiently next to the pile of video tapes on the ground.

"I didn't d–" Randy stops once you raise your pointer finger at him.

"Oh, I'm not done yet. Don't even get me started on your little rant that freaked everyone out. What were you thinking? Who am I kidding? Of course, you weren't thinking, because who scares away customers during our busiest day!" You laugh, bewildered at the sheer audacity of his actions.

Randy's lips purse into a straight line while he picks up the tapes. There were times when your nagging reminded him so much of his mother; This was one of those times.

You briefly look towards the cash register where a line began to form as customers waited to pay for their things. Some checked their watches, antsy to get home before the appointed curfew.

Randy goes to place the movies back on the cart when you pluck them out of his hands, "Go work the register since it takes you ten hours to put these away."

"Yes, captain," He retorts, saluting you before walking away.

With Randy out of your way, all that was left were the two misfits.

"What are you two morons staring at? Are you just gonna stand there?"

Billy shakes his head, "Nope, just admiring your hard work."

"Yeah, man, you're always so serious. Which is why you should come and chill out at the party," Stu tries to convince you.

You grab the cart full of returned movies, prepared to decline when Stu catches your hand, "What's it gonna take for you to come?"

You tap your chin in thought, "Hm, can I pick the movie we watch?"

Stu nods his head furiously, "You name it, baby, and I'll buy it."

You sigh, resigning yourself to their idea of fun, "Alright, what time does it start?"

Billy and Stu look at each other knowingly.