This is my entry for Week #59 of the Finish The Story contest. You can find the contest here. Thanks to 
@zeldacroft“Carl, I’m not telling you again. No.” The teen shook his head emphatically as he shut his locker. John started to walk away, with Carl close behind. Most of the students had already escaped after the release of the final bell, leaving the two teens mostly alone as they exited the grimy public school halls.
“Aw c’mon, man, my first shift starts tomorrow and I promised you’d be there,” Carl begged.
“I don’t understand, why did you even take the job if you knew you needed another person?”
“Because I knew I could count on you. My oldest, most bestest friend. Buddy, Old Pal?” He nudged John in the ribs, who rolled his eyes and started walking faster out of the building. John could feel his resistance waning under the shallow arguments and incessant prodding. Saturdays were valuable, but it was almost summer and getting a job wouldn’t be so bad if he could do it with a friend. He could still make Carl work for it though.
“I don’t know, I’m not liking all this peer pressure,” he teased. “Mrs. Campbell would be very disappointed in you.”
“Peer pressure doesn’t include perks like Coaster Town has,” Carl clarified.
“What perks?” John questioned.
Carl stopped and faced him, taking a dramatic, deep breath.
“Fifteen percent off park entry!” He exclaimed, inciting an amused eyebrow raise from John and a chuckle from a passing teacher. “Plus a free pass for the Twister of Doom and free hamburgers from the café!”
“Oh, I’m sure unlimited hamburgers won’t get old fast.”
“They pay over minimum wage, too. Seriously, this could be our big opportunity for some cash before summer hits.”
They were nearly outside, the fresh late-spring air drifting in through the open door. It was a nice change from the mustiness and body spray overdoses, and it made John almost look forward to working at a theme park. He felt the call of freedom in the form of sunlight breaching through the school windows. Stepping outside, the afternoon warmth of the sidewalk between the brick institution and the emptying parking lot won him over.
“Did you say we get to work outside?” John asked. Carl’s face lit up with optimism.
“Yep, at least most of the time.” John stepped next to his bike, one of the last few chained nearby. He ignored the eager inquisitiveness emanating from Carl as he unshackled the bicycle and stood up.
“Well, I suppose I could give it a try, anyway,” he conceded. Carl did a strange sort of clapping dance motion as his grin grew its customary vastness.
“Thanks John, you won’t be sorry,” he promised as he proceeded to unhook his own bike. “And don’t worry, they provide our costume and everything.” John halted.
“Wait, our costume? Singular?” John could have sworn he heard the job description as entertainers, plural.
“Yeah, the mascot costume. I haven’t seen it yet but I’m sure we’ll fit.” Carl climbed onto his bike as John filled with horrific regret.
My Ending
“God damn it. This place sucks.” John tossed the garbage beside the trash can. The force of impact knocked more empty cans out of the bin. It was overflowing with garbage and children raced past him.
“Poopy Frog! Poopy Frog!”
I’m going to kill Carl. I swear, I’m actually going to commit murder tonight.
Carl hadn’t told him the entertainment service that John would provide involved dressing as a pile of poop with the shape and face of a frog, called Poopy Frog, that wandered around Coaster Town picking up garbage. Nor did he mention that the pay was all off-the-books, and that John would have to ensure he was paid fairly by checking his own hours.
Carl, also dressed as a Poopy Frog, appeared from the other side of the rest area. “Fuck this,” he said. “This shit’s fucking lame.”
“Why did you convince me to do this again?” John asked, tossing another bag full of litter at the trash can.
“Hey,” Carl approached. “I found these half-finished beers.”
John grabbed one, taking off his mask and chugging it down. It was lukewarm, smelled slightly rotten, but in the scorching heat of an Atlanta summer, it didn’t matter. Carl did the same.
“Fuck it,” John said. “We’re going on a ride.”
The two Poopy Frogs approached the line for Tornado of Terrror, the park’s latest and greatest roller coaster ride. Children and teens alike in the crowd called out to them. “POOPY FROG!”
A fat kid in front of John laughed at him. “Stupid fucking frog,” the kid said. The boy’s friends laughed. John told him to move out of his way. The kid threw a half-empty cup of cola at him. John’s obnoxious costume deflected much of the coke, but that didn’t stop his anger. John whacked the fatty with his broom, knocking the boy on his butt. Carl and John moved on, the bully crying behind them.
They reached the front of the ride and told the park employees they had to clean up some vomit inside. The employees let them through and they went to the loading dock.
“Excuse me,” John said to two park patrons. “There’s a mistake in the count. Would you please wait for the next cart up?”
“This is an outrage!” the man said.
“Our apologies,” Carl said. The man and his wife stepped aside, angry and bitter. The carts required riders to lock themselves up in the seats. Riders’ feet dangled in the air as the cart took off.
Carl and John began to rid themselves of Poopy Frog. A voice called out to them over the intercom.
“You two? What the hell are you doing? Get back to work.”
“Fuck you and fuck your park,” John said, snapping himself in.
“Yeah. Eat shit!” Carl shouted.
The cart began to move. The employees, eager to keep the line moving, sent them on their way. The friends laughed as the ride began.
