CHARACTER INFO

MY CHARACTERS AND PLACES

Young man:
He sets off on a late night shopping expedition. Has large pimple on his forehead that he insists on letting heal by its self. Stubble is continuously growing from his chin, which he intermittently shaves off. Was forced to go by his housemates, who are consumer witches, (witches who make their spells and potions from everyday consumer items) to buy ingredients for their cauldron/ potion. He is an unfortunate victim to enchanted ‘Housemate Wanted’ signs. Although forced into being their sex slave and lackey, he is still able, and allowed to pursue his ambition of being a freelance warrior poet. Times like these, when he is sent to buy innumerable, obscure items, brings him to the creepiest black supermarket in town. Resigned to his fate, and terminally melancholy, he continuously ponders what life throws at him. Continuously distracted by something just as he is coming to some sort of revelation within his mind.


Cleaner (the freak):
He was hired out of pity as a cleaner after recently being released from a rehabilitation centre. He is obsessive and compulsive about many things. Doesn’t understand how to be subtle, but under the illusion that he is very witty and sneaky. Has no concept of the implications of his actions. Is Prone to be unreasonably violent. Actually quite friendly and dumb, but wouldn’t think twice to rip you apart if you stood in the way of something he wanted. Not that he would be killing you out of malice, but he just treats everything apart from what he is currently focussing on, as an inanimate object. But if you were to try to scare him, he might be reduced to a quivering heap… Acts like a cute kitten when he has got what he wanted. Very loving, caring and protective to whatever he is currently interested in. Not sickened or put off by the sight of gore. Tunnel vision. Consults dead puppies and vagrant bums as his chief advisors and mentors in all his life’s challenges.


Shelf packer boy:
Tall Skinny…. Zombie. Vomit stains on apron. Sick looking. Has come to work with no sleep after massive binge drinking party. (Bong in pocket?) Still cleansing stomach of all food so his body can focus on processing the alcohol. He mindlessly stacks the shelves, while occasionally pausing to dry reach. Eventually starts vomiting into the boxes he has been pulling the products from.


Deli woman:
Beehive haircut. Large frame. One of her arms is big and muscly from over using meat-slicing lever. Wears too much makeup, rubber ducky earrings, big, green plastic gloves and flirty smile. Beady eyes. Flamingo? Clam dip anyone?


Check out chick:
Indy, rockabilly disco, prissy, teenager. Small polka dots and tight jeans. Totally self absorbed, bored, vain. She is used to being offered drinks by entranced boys and free coffees at the exclusive underground bar she frequents. Preys on people’s good will with nothing in return. She sits back in her chair at the counter and grooms herself. Applying makeup and filing her nails, she practices making devastating hateful scowls to use on customers and people she wishes to not associate with. Won’t give you the time of day. Makes you feel bad for forcing her to actually do her job.

Black Super Market:
This is a one-stop shop for every stupid obscure and contrived article known to man, along with the usual supermarket goods. Many of the items for sale are pieces of junk that the store manager pulls out of industrial waste compactors. Originally one of the pristine ‘Stream Line’ super markets owned by the conglomerate corporation ‘Wash Corp’ it has slipped under their broad corporate radar. The manager of this store still maintains an efficient workforce and functioning business, but due to his eccentric ideals of what a true supermarket should sell, it is easy to get confused and lost with what you are trying to find. The shelves are stacked and compacted neatly with thousands of products that make no sense. This creates a unique niche market for consumers of specific goods that can’t be obtained anywhere else. Especially for consumer witches who are concocting ULTIMATE WASHING LIQUID!!!! Inside one can hear the drone of elevator music, buzzing fluoro lights, and air conditioners. Squeaky floors? Even though it is open 24 hours, there are usually no customers at night. The manager keeps it open “just in case”

Employees in general:
Uniform: Apron, name tag, little sailor hat?