Chalupa Gangsta

It was a large barrel. That was he thought has he stared down the gun. He wasn't sure, how longit would be, but not this big. The pimply kid behind the counter looked less than 16 years old. The kid was stoned faced, as if this wasn’t his first rodeo but Matt doubted that. This kid had almost a marine level of control under his belt.

"Whatever is in the till. Now." He said, gesturing to the gun to the till. The kid didn’t move at first, it wasn’t until Matt popped a warning shot off to the side of it. "Every single bill." He tried to sound tough. He knew he didn’t look it. Age had not been kind to him. After all, he was gen xer and this was a fucking Taco bell.

A taco bell in the middle of nowhere. He figured it gave him the best chance to make a clean getaway. After all, they were at least ten miles from the nearest town and if anyone really cared, this would have been part of a truck stop.

The kid opened the tilt and stepped back. "Take what you want."

Matt was taken back. This kid didn’t seem to care. "What do you mean?"

The Kid just walked away, heading to the door. "Look we are close to clsoing, take what you want." The door locked with an auditable click.

"wha-You aren't scared?" Matt felt any sense of control leave him at this point. What was happening?

"If you were going to shoot me, you would have done it by now. Take what you want out of the till, its not my money."

"But-"

"But what? Taco bell makes how much per year? "The Kid keep working on his closing task. "Taco bell has insurance. If I don't get my closing shit done, they are going to give me another fucking write up and Honestly Im helping my mom out with rent, I don’t give a fuck." Matt was stunned. After all, why won't this kid want to protect this company's property.

The boy got impatient. "Look are you going to take the money or not? I really don't have time for this." The kid was already pulling out the mop and bucket from the closet.

"Why aren't you?"

"Look I get it, you are the chalupa Gangsta," The boy stopped to put his hands up to make a quotation market in the air before starting to prep the mop bucket. "I read about it in the newsletter last week and like I said, I don’t-"

"How are you so calm?"

"Because you old fucks have already ruined the world for me." The kid had venom in his voice. "What is there left for me?"

Matt brought the gun down and reached to run his hand through his hair that was no longer there. "Kid you are…"

"Just take the money man. Shit clearly isn't going your way either." The kid went back into the closest and began to run some water into the bucket. "This isn't some pulp fiction. I ain't gonna stop you."

"Kid-"

"Look, bottom line is they want me alive to make tacos, you stealing a Tuesday till is worth way less than what they will have to pay out to my parents if you kill me and you get less jail time. Now take the money or fuck off."

Matt finally slipped the gun back into his pocket. "You have taken the fun out of this."

"Sir, I mean this with all due respect, I don’t give a fuck and will most likely be pulling shit out of a urinal tonight. Either take the money or fuck off."

Matt decide to fuck off.