The higher-ups of the company did not deem it necessary to interview the beings who quit out of the job. But, when it came to Jerald Punch, Employee of the Month six months running, they had to know why he would leave the game so young.
“Is it the pay?” asked the first, his eyeglasses covering the deep embers that should be human eyes.
“Is it the lack of travel?” asked the second, her tongue darting in between her needle teeth.
“Do you not like the environment?” asked the third, who rustled his massive black feathers in a show of uncomfortableness.
“No, it is nothing like that,” Jerald said. “I have my reasons, sirs, and madam. It has truly been an honor. I wish you to know I loved every minute of my time here.”
“Then why leave?” asked the first. “We need you Mr. Punch. You have managed to beat the last twenty who came through the door. You have a world of possibility here.”
Jerald shook his head. “I’m sorry. I really am. My wife got a new job as a brood mother, and she is really looking forward to the move. She’s been packing for the last day or two and the smile on her face…that smile alone makes me unable to stay.”
The third pecked at the table to abate his nerves, further destroying the once lovely hardwood. After taking a sliver out and chewing on it for a second, he spat it out into a wicker basket full of similar chunks. “Why not do the work remotely? We could set up a weapon cache for you to practice with? Teleporting might fit in the budget if we lay off a few lesser minions.”
Jerald held up his hands and sighed. “I know it is hard to understand for people in the business of boss battles for so long, but I can’t anymore. It’s not just my wife, I just can’t anymore. I love the work, trust me, but I got to think about job security. If I get too good at this, then no one is going to try to even break into the building, let alone go past the room with the obvious extra ammo laid out.”
“Nonsense,” the second said, drumming her fingers on the table. “There will always be stupid players, throwing away coins.”
“Hey,” Jerald said and held up a warning finger. “That’s racist. They are just as awesome as we are. Just on a different side.”
“Surely…we can find a compromise,” the horde said at once.
Jerald folded his arms and stood. Going to the door, he stopped at the handle. Three pairs of eyes held on him.
“I’m sorry. I really am. But I got to go. It’s been fun.”
The door shut, and the three hung their head in shame. They had failed. There was nothing left for them to do but find the next evil monster to guard the treasure. Because someone had to do it.
It wouldn’t be a game otherwise.