The Valkyrie and the Jester

There were three on the floor, and two in the back,
for the workers of Starbucks, the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas was like a break from the busiest times of the year.
Kasey, the best if the best of the Baristas, didn't bother taking that break, for she knew what loomed just over the horizon.
With a fire in a soul and a sip of caramel brulee frapuccino snaking its way through her intestines, she worked as hard as she had on that blackest of Fridays, regardless of it being a slow, Wednesday afternoon.

Armed with a hair tie, her green apron, and the fighting spirit of a Valkyrie queen, her very calling up drink orders motivated a full-on caffeinated conquest.
The sheer number of tipped dollar bills could very well build her a castle that reaches from one coast of Florida to the next.

Her fellow-in-espresso, Yoandy the Vargas, helps to chew the fat and re-energize the spirits of all around him, each and everyday... except on sick days, where he practices his craft of mischief to the trees in his back yard.
His verbal antics both shock and astonish, delivering a Shoryuken of service to both his workers and the customers alike.

He brushes the light fixture with his barista visor, and sets off fire alarms with his white-hot wit, and when paired with his partner, the Nordic Destroyer of non-fat lattes, the day is safe from the onslaught of snappy snowbirds.

Let me tell you a tale of one such exploit;
Once upon a time... about two or three weeks ago, when the Spirit of Black Friday was making his yearly rounds, stirring up chaos in every corner of this proud country, it made a personal visit to this simple, yet lavish coffee shop in the heart of Naples, Florida. When push came to shove, and aggravated shopper after aggravated shopper filled that small space in a matter of minutes, demanding the most complicated and sugary of beverages be made when and where they wanted, the Tooth and the Nail went to work, both of them refusing to succumb to the ensuing madness that particular day brought with it when it rose out of hell's fiery chasm.

It was at this time the most locally famous of duos, Kasey the Valkyrie and Yoandy the Jester, sprung into action, leaving no ounce of milk unsteamed and no cranberry bliss bar unserved.
Low-fat, low sugar cardboard frapuccinos were served by the trayful to appease the tastebuds deadened from months of fad-dieting and artificial sweeteners alike.
All the while, the master wordsmith Yoandy served his share of drinks and jokes to keep the air fresh from the imported air of the Northeast.

The other baristas stood not a chance to be noticed, as it was these two valiant and unshakable souls that stole the spotlight on that night of darkened flight.
Venits were filled, and gift cards were depleted, all in the name of fueling caffeinated rage to be projected on the hapless storeworkers caught up in the maelstrom of Black Friday's spite.
Regardless of the fight nobody believed they would win, the dynamic duo took orders through the earliest hours of the day without breaking away from the forces that would see them sway.
The night drug on, and many of the baristas lost to Black Friday, but when the first light of dawn rose over Golden Gate Parkway and Goodlette Frank Rd, Black Friday was driven away from the masses of civilians, who were left fawning proudly over their newest consumer-goods, and dreamily returned to their vehicles, gift receipts in-hand.

Likewise, when the time came for the heroes of the night to part ways,
The Jester awarded the Valkyrie with a hug and words of fellowship,
departing the scene with a head full of pride at the victory the night left behind.
As for the Valkyrie, she knew the war over Black Friday was far from over,
and she drove her Scion xB to the gates of Valhalla for a short break of recuperation.

Black Friday Brawlers

Behind a column of people she stood,
knuckles bleached from gripping her shopping cart,
a nervous bead of sweat formed on her brow;
Cecille was a patient woman, a devout Christian, a caring mother.
When her son told Santa he wanted Modern Warfare 3,
all that she knew of the subject was that she would have it.

As quickly as he could,
He lept between women, children, and even old farts,
Their anger for him meant nothing, for he could almost see it now.
Brent was a gamer, one of rare caliber; in his life he had met not another.
Since it was first announced, he thought not of another; Modern Warfare 3,
It was Black Friday today, and on this day he would have it.

They would have never met, had fate done as it should,
but another force was at work, practicing his art,
The Spirit of Black Friday was running amok, he was having a cow.
Dancing and weaving a quilt of hate, it the consumers that he sought to smother.
He watched and he waited, and found the thread to bind all together, Modern Warfare 3
There was a day to be won, and by devil, he would have it.


There was yet another that day, his name was Cassius Wood,
he was the manager, but tonight, he was a dart,
He'd seen it all before, but up until now,
there wasn't a sight he hadn't seen. Well, tonight was like no other,
She had struck with her right, while her left clutched none other than Modern Warfare 3,
The kid hit her back, yelling, "I had it first, you decrepit old bitch!"

That's when he stepped in, and did what he could,
Cecille's cousin Jacob jumped in to break them apart.
Surprised at who stepped in, she decided to back down,
Brent, too ceased, figuring he was her brother,
Then she did the unexpected and fled, fleeing with Modern Warfare 3!
Brent took off after her, knowing that one way or another, he would have it.

And when security stopped her, along with Mr. Wood,
she was taken off to jail, Black Friday had did his part.
and if you ask of yourself, every now and again, "what's wrong with this town?"
remember the Black Friday is there, seeking to smother,
there's always an X-Factor, and when it's Modern Warfare 3,
all hell will break loose, you should have reserved it.