Before I was FIRED from Top Shelf (the supermarket from hell that caused me to create Manic Mart), I dreamed of handing in the following resignation:

It is after much labored considerations and the tiresome reflections of the dark and sad soul that is my haul, that I hereby resign my odious and most undesirable position as produce lackey under your care. I demand to be handed my walking papers.

As of this time, your position as my employer has been terminated. Please do not use me for a reference.

Debbie "Cuntface" Skaler

Dear Diary: I have left Top Shelf. My departure, however, is not an attempt at bringing any happiness into my life. My sudden exodus is merely the next phase in the higher evolution of my ever-changing life. I am leaving because I will not and cannot tolerate that store or those customers any longer. Higher responsibility beckons me. My tour of duty in that hell is at the scheduled end. I am finished, yet I do not trade in my madness for stupidity and easily slip back into the population of customers. I do not hand over my pricing gun and return to that chaotic world, as a police officer would give up his badge and become a normal citizen. I am not customer, nor clerk, but some third higher mix of a being, as an Angel with its glorious wings is a mix of animal and man. Or perhaps, with my hooves and horns, something somewhat more sinister.