It had been a bad day for Chase when *it* happened. One of those ones where nothing could go right. After he'd gotten out of work the morning prior, right at the crack of dawn, one of his buddies from high school, home from college, invited him out to go bar-hopping. He was happy to wander over to the city's nearest bar. Chase's fake ID worked at the first two bars, but around 10 a.m., at the third, the bartender tried to stall him with conversation without giving it back.
When Chase saw the police at the front door, he booked it out a side entrance, found a side street, and ran back to his apartment as fast as he could.
Out of shape, he was exhausted when he finally locked the door behind him and realized he was safe. So exhausted that, still drunk, he fell right asleep. In his uniform. Without setting his alarm. Which meant when he woke up, hungover and sweating, his uniform was way too dirty for work, his head was killing him and he had 15 minutes to get to work, which meant he had to wear the company's backup uniform - one he loathed.
It was the only extra one they had, and one of the few things Chase cared about was making sure his normal one was always clean. Because this backup one was not fun to wear. Rubber and latex, loose yet tight, bright orange and white, it was uncomfortable and embarrassing. With a scowl, he threw it on and ran to work, both to make it on time and to avoid anyone seeing him.
He made it to the timecards just in time to clock in, only for his pounding hangover to come back with a vengeance. Groaning, the fox begrudgingly (and poorly) did his duties as quickly as possible. When he finished his first rounds, he sat back in his chair behind the desk, ready to doze off. After such a terrible day, he thought, he could just nap through this shift and recover for tomorrow.
Of course, he woke up with a gun to his face, and thought to himself "you have to be kidding me" as he looked up at...