Think of the Minions


Chapter 1;

It was the night shift, and Dave was as bored as usual. Nothing much ever 
happened at the warehouse in the night. There was the occasional delivery 
to authorise to pass through the gates, and there had once been an 
intruder.

Well, there had been a drunk guy who seemed to think that it woul dbe fun 
to try to climb over the fence and use the bins as a place to sleep for 
the night, but he had been seen off by the guard dogs. It was a good thing 
that he didn't know that the dogs they had were the tamest rottweilers 
ever. The worst you could expect form them was a vigourous licking, or 
possibly them trying ot jump into your arms.

Dave checked the security camera monitors for the three hundredth time 
that night, they all showed the same well-lit areas of concrete that 
they'd been showing all night. No suspicious shadows, odd reflections or 
even passing cars. 

He sighed and went back to reading the book he'd brought with him. It was 
hard being a security guard for an outfit that no one cared about. How was 
he supposed to impress his superiors if he didn't get to thwart an armed 
gang or catch someone spying on the place?

Still, at least he got to sit inside in the warmth of the control room, 
rather than having to wait around in the cold little hut by the gates with 
the keys to let a delivery in.

The radio crackled and he heard a familiar voice, "Station one reporting 
in, no unusual activity."

"Status recorded," he replied. There was never any unusual activity. He 
noted the lack of activity in the report book; there were now 36 pages 
filled with reports of nothing happening. And even the entry on the 
preceding page was just "Unconfirmed sighting of a rat."

Dave looked tiredly at the clock, 06:52, only an hour left on this shift 
before he could hand over to Nigel, and get some sleep. Not that he'd be 
able to sleep of course, since he had plumbers coming ot replace his 
boiler today, and they would have charged an extortionate ammount to do 
the work at night when he was at work. 

They'd quoted just 3 hours, and said they'd be there at 9, but he didn't 
hold out much hope for reaching bed before 3 that afternoon.

"Oh well," he mused, "at least I'll be able to take a bath before coming 
back tonight."

The radio came to life again, "Station two reporting in, no unusual 
activity." 

"Satus recorded," he replied automaticly, and noted it in the logs.

Dave yawned as he stretched as far as he could in the small room, and went 
back to his book.

And that was as interesting as the rest of his shift was. Two more sets of 
reports to note, a fly landing on one of the cameras, and signing over to 
Nigel at 7am.

****

Opening the door to his flat he was greeted by his cat, who was sitting 
just inside the doorway wiht a smug grin, and a headless muse at his feet. 
Dave knew what this meant. It meant that Fluffy hadn't liked the food he'd 
left out as he went to work, and had decided to bring back a dead animal 
to show his displeasure. There would probablky also be a 'present' in his 
slippers.

"Hello fluffy. Aren't you a clever kitty!" He cooed to the cat as if it'd 
just managed to perform a trapeeze act using just his tail.

Fluffy turned and walked away without uttering a sound. He knew when he 
was being talked down to. Travelling into the bedroom, he decided to 
confuse his owner by leaving another present somewhere difficult to clean, 
that he wouldn't find for ages. The radiator! Fluffy immediately leapt 
onto the windowsil, and promptly deposited a furball into the fins of the 
radiator, and led down for a nap to celebrate a job well done.