Vriska Serket was in deep shit.
At 22 years old, Vriska was a dual major in chemistry and physics.
Her penchant for disaster and destruction as well as her fascination with the end of the world made her a fabulous and innovative student,
though at the cost of causing conflict and chaos wherever she went. One little extra credit project had destroyed Eridan Ampora’s apartment, and almost taken Equius Zahack’s with it.
Disaster even followed her to Harley’s Diner, the infamous hangover-curing eatery just off campus where Vriska waited tables.
Coffee pots were shattered, meals were spit in, and screaming matches were had. Until now, that hadn’t mattered.
The tiny family-owned diner, where everyone ate at from 10 pm to morning, had kept her on to clean up after messy parties and kick out drunken minors before the cops showed up for breakfast.
None of the other waitresses were willing to do the jobs Vriska did on the graveyard shift.
Also, no one else would be caught dead applying for a job there,
so it wasn’t as if anyone could replace her if she lost her head and threatened a customer or threw a coffee mug against the wall. That had all changed two weeks ago. Old Mr.
Harley, a firecracker if there ever was one, had been accidentally shot and would be spending the rest of his days in a nursing home, bemoaning his aching hip.
The diner was changing hands, and the new management wasn’t a fan of Vriska’s “go fuck yourself” attitude or her methods for drunk removal.
They fired her before they even saw her in action, having heard the stories of her impressive endeavors.
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