by Shouji Gatou
“Hey, you! Slack-jawed bleach boy! Get your measly ass up here, fumo!” Moffle shouted, singling out the slacker. With an annoyed roll of his eyes, the man did as he was told, but he kept his posture slumped 45 degrees in an aggressive act of defiance.
“Looks like we’re dealing with a real shitheel, fumo. Where were you born, fumo?”
“...Hokkaido.”
“Hokkaido? Only cows and crabs come from Hokkaido. Which are you, fumo?”
It was a bizarre question, I thought. Naturally, the slacker also scowled in confusion. “Huh? What’re you talkin’ about?”
“Are you a cow? Or a crab?” Moffle demanded. “Answer me! Right now!”
“Uh, I mean... what? What are you talking a—blugh!”
A body blow from Moffle sent the slacker doubling over in pain. “I’m asking the questions here, fumo! Are you a cow! Are you a crab! Answer! This! Instant!”
“Uh... guh, I... I...”
“You want another one, fumo?!”
“I’m... c-crab... no, c-cow? I’m a cow!” the man moaned.
“If you’re a cow, then act like it, fumo! Let’s hear you moo! Moo, moo!”
“M-Moo...”
“That’s one hell of a limp-dick cow! I’ve seen five-year-olds that could do better! Try again, and put your whole ass into it, fumo! Moo, moo!”
“Moo! Moo! Moooooo!”
“Still lacking conviction. Practice it, fumo.”
The slacker man was relieved. Tiramii walked him to a corner of the room, where he stood looking on the verge of tears. I was on the verge of tears, too.
“Listen up, nuggets! I’m not taking any shit from you, fumo. From now on, the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be ‘Sir!’ You got that, fumo?!”
“S-Sir, okay, sir...” the group answered, out of sync.
“That’s ‘Sir, yes, sir!’ ron! Again!”
“S-Sir... yes, sir...”
“Can’t hear you, mii! One more time!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” we all shouted out desperately.
Still, Moffle didn’t seem pleased. “I still can’t hear you, fumo! Is this how you plan to act around our guests?! I can hear them already! ‘Amagi Brilliant Park is a park of gutless crybabies!’ Now our reputation’s in the toilet, and it’s all your fault, fumo!”
I had no idea what he was talking about. Was being gutless really so bad? Were the customers terrorists? Were they Communists?
From there, Moffle and the others went on and on about how we were know-nothing weaklings, how they were going to turn us into emotionless killing machines, and how we’d start with a twenty kilometer run carrying twenty kilograms on our backs.
I wanted to run away. Everyone else seemed to be looking for a way out, too.
It was just then that Kanie Seiya-senpai and Sento Isuzu-senpai arrived.
“What the hell are you doing, you rat?!” Kanie-senpai bellowed.
“Fumo?!”
Kanie-senpai kicked Moffle in the butt.
“This is no way to treat an educator, fumo!”
“Shut up! Educator, my ass!”
They both looked furious. They didn’t seem to get along at all.
“Moffu... well, I’m glad you’re here, fumo. I have to build something out of all this human refuse, and watching me beat you to death might just scare ’em rigid!”
A paw whipped through the air. Senpai dodged. A thrilling back-and-forth commenced: folding chairs went flying, tables toppled, and the new hires ran everywhere in panic.
Ah, I wondered, dazed. What is happening here? I was just trying to get a part-time job at an amusement park. Why am I forced to cower into a corner while mascots fight to the death nearby? I want to go home.
“That’s enough of that,” Sento-senpai declared. Then, she pulled out a musket and fired shots into Kanie-senpai, Moffle, and the others. Her gun must have had some kind of special bullets, because they didn’t seem to die. They just writhed around on the ground, clearly in a lot of pain. At this point, though, I had already lost my ability to be surprised by anything.
At last, the commotion died down.
“...Is everybody calmed down now?” she asked. “Then, please continue.”
Kanie-senpai and the others spent some time doubled over, but at Sento-senpai’s urging, they finally stood up on unsteady legs. Their shoulders were heaving. Moffle caught my attention in particular: a costume character, heaving for breath? That was very strange.
Kanie-senpai spoke. “Hahh... hahh... You told me to trust you with the newcomer training, so I did... but what’s with this boot camp crap?!”
“Whew... whew... ...It’s cutting edge, fumo,” Moffle insisted. “Look... you see a lot of part-timers screwing around on Twitter these days, fumo. They walk into fridges, sleep on top of merchandise... It’s a huge risk for the company, fumo. I wanted to head all that off by instilling strict discipline and accountability from the start, fumo.”
“You’ll chase them away before any of that sticks!” Kanie-senpai insisted. “We’re already short on employees, and you already want to drive out the handful of people actually willing to apply to this crap amusement park?!”
Just then, Macaron and Tiramii chimed in.
“The main reason is actually that we watched Full Metal Jacket the other day, ron.”
“We’ve been practicing Sgt. Hartman’s boot camp speech, mii!”
“Yeah, I figured it was something like that... Anyway, you three are out! Get back to your posts. Shoo, shoo!” Kanie-senpai sent them away like they were stray cats or something.
“Aw, we’re off the job, fumo?”
“No way! I worked hard on those running cadences, ron!”
“Yeah, mii! Like ‘I don’t know but I’ve been told! Isuzu-chan’s c*nt is mighty cold!’... bguh!”
Sento-senpai shot Tiramii again, killing him. I was starting to realize that the musket was more like one of those fans people use to whack each other in comical situations. That made perfect sense to me.
Moffle and Macaron left, dragging off Tiramii’s corpse. Kanie-senpai and Sento-senpai remained behind and cleared their throats.
“Ah, excuse us. We made a slight miscalculation... Just forget all that nonsense. No, wait, wait! Don’t leave... Ah, they left. Damn.” Kanie-senpai clicked his tongue ruefully as he watched two or three more new hires flee the room. “Sento, would you please?”
“Certainly.” Sento-senpai stepped out in front of him, holding a sheaf of documents under one arm. “I will now explain the basics of what it means to work here. Please pass these printouts around.”
Everything after that went smoothly.
Kanie-senpai seemed to have other work to attend to, because he disappeared immediately.
Sento-senpai explained the park rules and terminology, as well as the basics of how to dress and greet customers, in a very businesslike manner. Businesslike is such a wonderful word, don’t you think? Businesslike forever!
I started to realize, as she was speaking, that Kanie-senpai and Sento-senpai weren’t just leaders for the part-time crew, but occupied much more important positions in the park. I didn’t know more than that, but they wore park uniforms, and Sento-senpai led the orientation so efficiently that it made her seem even more impressive than she was at school. Maybe I’ll be a capable woman like her some day! I thought.
But as wonderful as she was, I was still curious about her relationship with Kanie-senpai; I couldn’t help but pick up on some sexual tension between them. They might be up to some pretty risqué stuff when no one was watching, I thought. Like... holding hands and stuff! But then, she had also shown no mercy in putting a bullet into him, so maybe their relationship was platonic after all?
Hmm, I was just so curious! If I get another chance, I thought, I should try to observe them more closely!
The orientation ended just before noon, and then we were shown around the park. Sento-senpai read out our names and informed us where we’d all be s
tationed:
The AV performer(?), Adachi Eiko-san, was assigned to Macaron’s Music Theater. She waved to me as she went on her way. What a nice person! I thought. Let me call you “big sister!” Actually, I won’t do that. Sorry.
“Chujo Shiina-san?” Sento-senpai called.
“Y-Yes?!” I squeaked.
“Your assignment is Moffle’s House of Sweets. You’ll be an actor’s assistant. Good luck.”
“Dokay! Al boodai mest!” You can probably guess these things by now, but I was trying to say, “Okay! I’ll do my best!”
But... wait a minute. Did she just say Moffle’s House of Sweets? Wasn’t that the attraction where that awful Moffle worked? Was I going to be his assistant? I was definitely going to end this day by peeing myself. (I had already been on the verge before.)
“Any questions?” she asked.
“Ah... u-um, no, ma’am...”
I was seriously thinking about running away.
There was still time. I could tell Sento-senpai I quit, apologize, run home and bury myself in my covers. If I did that, I would never have to meet that scary Moffle again! Then again, maybe not...
Like I said before, I was a fan of Moffle’s when I was little. So round and plushy, those big button eyes... A sweets-loving friend to all! The way he’d tilt his head and whuffle, “Fumo? Moffu!” He was super-duper cute. You just wanted to hug him and stroke his fur! And when I was feeling lonely, my Moffle plushie was always there for me.
And yet...
That Moffle was just too much. He was violent and aggressive, had a potty mouth, and he had a nasty look in his eyes (which seems strange to say about a mascot costume, but I was insistent that that was still the case).
My pure image of him had been thoroughly shattered—as devastated as Hue, the old capital of Vietnam, during the Tet Offensive. So enraging!
In that case, I thought, maybe I should stay and fight?
I could go to that House of Sweets and give the person in that Moffle suit a piece of my mind. I could get him to take off the costume and have a good look at the ugly jerk underneath. That way, I could draw a line between him and the Moffle in my bed at home. That way, I could have good dreams again. I worked up my nerve and headed for the House of Sweets.
I would give that costume actor a piece of my mind! I would take back my peaceful nights!
“Thirty minutes late? Hey, rookie... What do you think this job is, fumo?”
“Ah... ah... um, um... rorrsy, rorrsy...” I was on the verge of tears already. I had intended to arrive with plenty of time to spare, you see... But it was my first time backstage, and I didn’t know where I was going... The next thing I knew, I was in a totally different area, and I ended up somewhere that looked like outer space, and the cast person I ran into (a man in a robot suit?) started yelling at me... Naturally, I asked for directions, but they were so complicated, I just ended up getting confused again... So frustrating! My sense of direction was utterly hopeless!
“I c-couldn’t... find... I’m yorrsy,” I stammered. “Um, s-sorrby...”
“Ahh, whatever, fumo. Just follow me.” Moffle started to walk out of the room, grumbling.
I felt so awful about being late that I couldn’t say what I meant to say. So galling! So humiliating!
“Already busy with preparations for Golden Week, now I need to look after a rookie...” he muttered. “And a child at that, fumo. Why do I always get stuck working with kids, fumo?”
Dealing with kids is your job, isn’t it?! I wanted to scream. But of course, I was nowhere near brave enough to do so.
Moffle swiftly led me to the House of Sweets’s backstage area. We were using a passage reserved for employees only, and I could hear the giggling of the naughty mice from onstage nearby.
Despite everything else, I couldn’t help but feel a little thrill about walking backstage at an amusement park.
He brought me to a corner of the corridor that had been converted into a supply room—and a messy one, at that. The smell of paint thinner hung faintly in the air. Spare animatronics and audio devices lay all around. There was a work table for repairing the mechanics and the critters; needles, thread, and a sewing machine; piles of tools and tubes of paint... There was also a coloring table. It had an airbrush attachment, but what really caught my attention was the size of the filter mask lying nearby. It was clearly sized for Moffle’s face.
“...It would be a lot better to have one central department to do all our maintenance, fumo. But because we don’t have any budget, each attraction handles its own, fumo. This is my work space, so no poking around, all right?”
“Y-Yes sir...”
“First, let’s get you a costume, fumo. The question is whether I have one that’ll fit...”
Moffle searched through the lockers in the back of the supply space, then returned with a pale pink costume that looked like a cook’s outfit. It was a cute, but simple, design.
“I reckon this is the smallest one I have... Now, hold still, fumo.”
“O-Okay...”
He held the costume up to my shoulders and narrowed his eyes. He took out a measuring tape and measured me here and there. He even measured my bust!
“Ah, um, s-sexual h-harassment...”
“What? I’m an adult, fumo. A kid like you isn’t even on my radar, fumo. Now, arms up. Arms.”
Moffle wasn’t angry. He just seemed baffled. Such thoughtless treatment. So humiliating!
“Ugh...”
“Yeah, that’ll be baggy on you, fumo. Might as well not even bother with the pants... Hmm.”
After thinking for a bit, Moffle tossed the pants aside and began messing with the cook’s top. He didn’t use scissors, but just folded the excess cloth away and then fastened it with safety pins.
He was actually doing needlework with those round paws of his... Incomprehensible. How did he do it?
“There we are. That’s a temporary fix, but try it on, fumo. Go on.”
“Huh? R-Right here?”
“There’s an employee bathroom over there. Go on, fumo.” Moffle urged me on, clearly annoyed. I quickly ran into the bathroom and got changed, just like he told me to.
As I’ve explained several times, I’m quite petite, so the costume top fit me like a dress, with the hem stopping ten centimeters above my knees. That felt really short to me, but when I looked in the mirror, it was actually really cute! I put on the cook’s hat, and that completed the ensemble. Wow! Now I was a real member of the cast!
I was still nervous about a lot of things, but putting on this uniform(?) really put me in the spirit. I did a twirl in front of the mirror. It was pretty... no, really good! I had to take a picture and send it to my mom! She’d be so happy for me!
I wasn’t used to using my smartphone, though, so while I was messing with it, the door banged open.
“What’s taking so long? Hurry up, fumo!”
“Oh, oh... sorry, sorry!” I flew out of the bathroom, deciding I could take the picture another time.
Moffle stared at my costume with a careful, scrutinizing gaze.
“...Well, not bad, if I do say so myself. When you’re done working for the day, just leave those clothes on the bench from before, fumo. I’ll do the final stitching tonight. In the meantime, you can stash your things in those lockers there... pick any locker that’s available, fumo.”
“O-Okay!” I threw my uniform and belongings into the locker.
Moffle was as strict as ever, but I was surprised to hear him say that he’d sew up my outfit. Maybe he really was a nice guy?
“What’s with that warm-and-gooey expression? Are you thinking ‘maybe he’s really a nice guy,’ fumo?”
“Ah, um... well...”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I just know that leaving a costume with a little girl like you is a recipe for a ruined costume, fumo. Pain in my ass, heaven’s sake...”
Okay, so he wasn’t a nice guy. He was surprisingly sharp, though. So annoying!
“Your first job today will be assisting me in Entrance Square, fumo. Follow me.”
Moffle-san and I walked down the underground tunnel to Entrance Square.
Oh, just so you know! From now on, I’ll be referring to Moffle as Moffle-san. There was something about the gravitas he put out that made me feel uncomfortable addressing him without an honorific. Besides, using “-san” would help me to distinguish this Moffle from the one on my bed! Thus, Moffle-san.
Entrance Square was the big plaza just beyond the park entrance; it was the first place the guests saw after they came through the gate.
“We’re going onstage now, fumo. We’ll be in front of the guests, so stay alert, fumo.”
“Y-Yes sir!”
“I’ll be entertaining the guests, and you’ll be helping me. Keep an eye on the time, too; every thirty minutes I get a break, so you’ll guide me backstage then, fumo. If a guest wants a picture, you’ll take it for them, fumo. I’ll also do some juggling, so you’ll hold onto my things for that, fumo. Also, if one of those guests takes too much of my time, it’s your job to gently steer them away and let the next guest through, fumo. There’s a lot of other things, too, so you’ll need to play it by ear. Anything you don’t get?”
I didn’t even know what to say. He had run through the explanation so quickly, it was all a muddle in my mind. But Moffle-san was glaring at me. I knew if I said the wrong thing, he would lay into me.
“I-I’m fine... I think.”
“Good. Then let’s go, fumo.”
Moffle-san made a few minor adjustments to his outfit, then left the room. Petrified, I followed him. I never knew people actually stepped with the same arm and leg before, but here I was, doing it. What an educational experience!
The moment we arrived in Entrance Square, though, I felt transported. I’d spent all morning in the dark, gloomy backstage area, so this was my first time onstage for real. “Ah...”
A cheerful melody played. Fountains danced in whimsical rhythms. Sculptures and buildings, in all different colors, sparkled in the sun. Macaron, Tiramii, and minor characters like Wanipii were out and about, greeting the guests. Some gave out balloons, some played the flute, some did pantomime—all kinds of things. They were such amazing performers, it was hard to believe they were really people in costumes.