Chaos Follows

Create a small story where chaos follows your protagonist:

Tyler was impressed as he rounded out the moping on the floor of the shop. He had opened the front door and propped it with a cleaning bin to let the evening's air flow a bit more freely. The clouds were rolling in and he had hoped to finish his chores a bit prior to the storm's impending arrival. Besides, the open door dried the floor a bit faster then he could with the heat from the just finished kitchen.

What impressed Tyler were the three drops of water that had landed on his forearm. The parking lot was beginning to fill with the black dots of first rainfall. Three had some how found their way into his workplace and flew all the way to his blond fur on right arm. He smirked.

His smile grew as he noticed a majority of the floor was truly dry.

He wheeled the bucket to teh back of the back of kitchen and thought about what he could do with the rest of the evening.

"Ayeeeeeeeflabuuushamasssssshhhh!"

The smile did not leave his face. That scream was too fake. He rounded the doorway.

There was an arm on the counter. The rest of the arm's keeper was somewhere lower, out of view.

"Oh-my-Jesus, I'm sorry!"

The floor must not have been dry.

He curbed the edge of the counter like a pro. He had loved this job at the store, luckly to find it on such hard times and short notice. There was a young gentlemen, of similar age, tshirt horked up to a nail jutting out of the wood paneling and his shoes sideways.

"Nah, it's cool. Most people see wet floors and decide not to cross them."

"I am so, so sor..." Tyler's left leg did not clear the counter's edge and twirled him downwards, towards the first victim. He landed on top of the young man, pulling him away from the old nail and tearing his shirt into two. Tyler did not have time to stop the collison.

Tyler looked down and shook his head. The vistor did not open his eyes.

"Is it over?"

"I hope so, sir. I guess it's too late to tell you we're closed?"

The falling man popped his eyes open at Tyler. They were in kissing range and Tyler found it comfortable.

And it scared him. He stood abruptly and held out a hand.

The young man on the floor took stock with his right hand to the back of his head.

"Ah, good, no blood. This," he tried to piece his shirt back together over his torso, "however, is a goner."

"Oh no, my boss is going to kill me for not putting a sign out! Oh, no, no, no..."

"Relax, Tyler, it's Tyler right? We go to the same school, you're alright, it's alright. I have a sweatshirt out in my gym back in the car."

"OH! Okay, yeah, yeah, I've seen you! Lemme get, some, ice? Maybe? Oh! I have a shirt that might fit..." Tyler feld to the back of the store.

"Just wait..there's..."the falling victim stepped forward and put both arms on the counter to balance himself. He looked back at the floor. Not a single skidmark was there. He was impressed with his bad luck.

"Here!" Tyler jutted the tshirt into his face.

"I'm Mike. I work next door. I just wanted to say your front door," he gestured in the general direction," was open and a storm was coming in."

"Hey, hi, yeah, Mike, and I'm really sorry." Mike had removed the remanants of the shirt and begun to replace it with the new black duds the youth had handed him. It fit perfectly, if slightly tight.

"No worries. I know your boss, he's a friend of mine," Mike stated as he pulled down.

"Oh crap."

"And he's not going to find out, unless," Mike started to scratch his chest, "unless you tell him your...um, is it warm in here?"

"No, not with the door open!"

"True, but I have, oh no, you use Tide, don't you!"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm allergic!" Mike tore off the shirt.