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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'.
Other Articles in this Series:
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Oppression Supreme'
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Armchair Club'
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Bloody Nose'
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Fresh Cream'
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Oxidation'
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Day Off'
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Heat Machine'
...'November 1979'...
...'WARNING - ADULT CONTENT'...
"From today I am the store manager", stated Mort matter of factly to his audience of one stock lad, two checkout operators, one supervisor, and thirty pissed-off customers.
"You will obey me without question..", he droned on to the mostly bored looking staff and increasing agitated trolley pushers waiting to be served.
Had he spoken for too long? The customers had been queuing up to pay for their goods, but surely they could wait just once for 15 minutes.
This day was a once in a lifetime event and they should understand that some things are more important than their stupid shopping.
Ten minutes later, Mort lazily gazed from the Kwiksave office with its one-way glass system, eyes greedily fixed on one particular heavyset checkout operator.
She was sweating profusely, having to deal with a queue of 15 angry customers, and looked extremely stressed.
A stirring arose within his nether regions; he had always had a thing for that Mandy with her luscious curves, extraordinarily wide hips, and those enormous paps.
Now was the time to exert his authority and start his fabulous morning with a bang!
Carrot was on holiday, Brent the brainless stock lad was filling up the biscuits, and the other checkouts were all so busy dealing with those fucking annoying customers.
Mort reached for the loudspeaker, ‘Mandy to the office please…, Mandy to the office', came the tinny voice via the cheap speakers.
Mandy looked around in anguish, the customers were about to riot and she was needed in the office?
“Hey what about our shopping”, cried one, “where the fuck are you going fatty”, screamed another more direct wild-looking bloke who had a huge cartful of shopping.
“Sssssorry, this is... must be an emergency”, sobbed Mandy exiting the checkout bay and making her way to the office.
Mandy knocked and Mort ushered her in after making her wait for the customary 30 seconds.
I must maintain my authority and superiority, there will be no exceptions
“Mandy”, said a relaxed Mort, “I have received a complaint from a customer that you have been rude and swore at him”
It was an accusation, not a question and the bewildered Mandy was taken back.
“It’s OK”, said Mort comfortingly, I know we have bad days and I can let this go if you can do a small favour for me.
"But… Mr. Mortenson..", she stammered, "I never di..", stammered the reddening Mandy, eyes filling with tears.
In an instant, Mort pulled his trousers down revealing a 4" pencil-dick throbbing erection.
“Mandy my darling”, he whispered, “I have waited for this moment…”, the whisper turning into a searing exulted hiss as Mort ejaculated over the office floor.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh”, screamed Mandy cutting off Mort’s romanticism with a poorly placed kick hitting him hard in the upper thigh.
The kick unbalanced Mandy who fell to the floor in a heap next to Mort now screaming in pain and clutching his leg with both hands.
The office door burst open revealing bad-toothed Sharon, the supervisor who quickly surveyed the scene with an ever-widening grin.
“Busy are we?”…
Mort, the Shit Manager is a Serial Shitposting Fiction Story inspired by Torundel the Shitposter by 
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