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Mort, the Shit Manager is a spin-off fictional series of short stories based loosely on the thoughts of David Mortenson, the tyrannical Kwiksave store manager who features in my auto-biographical series 'The Horrors of Kwiksave'.
- Mort as a Stock Lad -
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Flat Arse' - (March 1974)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Mort's Interview' - (March 1974)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Armchair Club' - (May 1974)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Fresh Cream' - (November 1978)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Demise of Reginald Bulge' - (January 1979)
- Mort as a Manager -
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Oxidation' - (July 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Fart Councilling' - (July 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Mandy's Interview' - (October 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Mandy's Curves' - (November 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Bribe' - (November 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Agnus' - (December 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Agnus' Surprise Visit' - (March 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Bloody Nose' - (July 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Brent's 'Druff' - (September 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Sacking of Brent' - (September 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: Edith's Offerings - (October 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: Hector's Deal: Part One - (October 1980)
- Mort as a Manager with 
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Oppression Supreme' - (December 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Tripe & Gizzard Flavour' - (February 1981)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Gladys Shufflebottom: Part One' - (February 1981)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Heat Machine' - (March 1981)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Day Off' - (April 1981)
...'February 1981'...
...'WARNING - ADULT CONTENT'...
…
I groaned. As if unloading the crushed Jam pallet (again) was not enough.
Whoever packed these pallets was a complete fuckwit. With Jam stacked twenty packs high, it was little wonder the ones at the bottom were crushed under all the weight, complete with added oozing stickiness.
...'how Jam should be stacked, but not at Kwiksave. The bottom ones were doomed to be smashed open, and leaking everywhere. It was little wonder the Stock Lads hated unpacking the Jam pallet'...
Of course, it was up to me to clean up this mess when I reached the bottom of the pallet, which was now going to take longer than usual. I was supposed to be a shelf-filling slave, not a bloody cleaner?
Why the fuck did Kwiksave allow dogs into their stores anyway? They pissed and shit all over the store cocking their legs up at will. It was little wonder the place stank like a canine cesspit.
I blearily gazed up at the one-way windows of the office, knowing Mort would be wielding his customary sneer and looking for a reaction; anything to make my life more miserable and send my mood cascading deeper into the pit of despair.
I shuffled to the back of the store, past the frozen goods, and made my way to aisle one, but then froze in horror at the sight.
It was that old woman AGAIN. The same one that had landed Mort in hot water with Elton just days ago.
I somehow had copped the blame, and since that day, Mort's sneers and jibes at me had escalated to a new level.
...'Sharon did not talk to me so much outside the occasional snog at Christmas, but when she did, I was in heaven'... - Source
Sharon, the flirty, provocative supervisor with the rotten tooth, had shared part of the story with me.
Gladys Shufflebottom had filed an official report against Mort. The report had stated:
It was too late for a hasty escape. Gladys had seen me, the brown overall labelled with a red ‘Kwiksave’ motif, giving the game away, and I was doomed.
The sight turned my stomach. ‘Rover’ was squatting in a pool of doggy diarrhoea with an agitated Gladys beckoning me toward the ghastly scene.
...'Not that fucking horrible stuff, I could have coped with the solid regular type'... - Source
“Prrrrt!”…, Rover wagged his tail at me unapologetically, and I stalled, frozen. I had to clean this shit up, as well as be gassed by fresh dog rectal fumes?
Gladys squinted at me with a knowing look.
"Do I know you, son?" she said in a rasping croaky voice.
...'Gladys fortunately was not as sharp as she was once. A boon to my current unfortunate situation'... - Source
Deja-vu swam over me in a dizzying wave; did she say this to all the boys?
"Er.. no, you must be mistaking me for Mr Carrot, who left a week ago", I lied, face reddening. I was always a terrible liar.
Gladys looked unconvinced but did not press the matter.
“You see, dearie… my Rover had an accident. Yesterday, I was forced to buy that nasty 'Tripe & Gizzard’ flavour dog food for him, but I see there's some of his favourite flavour on the top shelf again"
She motioned to the top shelf, and sure enough, under six giant crates of Chum lay a single pack of ‘Heart with Jelly’ flavour Pedigree Chum.
...'...this stuff is heavy, you don't want to be carting 24 packs of 'Tripe & Gizzard' flavour chum about...'
...the dog has spilt its guts all over the floor, and now she wants me to get the ladders, and haul six lots of 24-pack chum to one side so Rover can eat his favourite bloody food AND then clean that watery shit up... in that order?...
Could this day get any fucking worse?
I inwardly groaned, but then had a light bulb moment. A little personal attention could take me far in this situation, as well as irritate the hell out of Mort.
"I would be glad to help Mrs Shufflebottom, but firstly I need to clean up the... err.. accident here, but if you could make your way to the office, my manager, Mr Mortenson, would be pleased and delighted to assist you.”
...'the young
Gladys visibly brightened and then frowned. What the fuck was going on in her head?
"It's Miss Shufflebottom, I will have you know, and I have never allowed a filthy man inside my vagina”
Gladys stormed off, or should I say shuffled off as old ladies do, Rover in tow, complete with doggy beige footprints leaving a trail marking the smooth black asphalt Kwiksave floor.
I stared after her in disbelief, mouth dropping to the floor, drool leaking from the edges of my mouth. What the fuck just happened?
All this and more in Part Two, the thrilling conclusion of ‘Mort the Shit Manager: Gladys Shufflebottom’ coming exclusively to the HIVE blockchain soon.
Mort, the Shit Manager is a Serial Shitposting Fiction Story inspired by Torundel the Shitposter by 
My Urban Exploration Tales can be found directly on the internet via my Website 'Tales of the Urban Explorer'.
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