You want to spend time with Licorice alone

You tell Bubblegum you'd really be more comfortable with Licorice for now. Besides, from what you can remember, nobody put up a CLOSED sign! Customers might be piling in right now!

Bubblegum clicks her teeth, her fists shivering in anger, as she turns for the door. "Fine! But if I come back later and find you slacking off too, Bowie, I'm letting Theodore know I've been saddled with two slackers!" she growls, as she stomps off with all of the malice of one of ****'s riders.

Licorice waits for a moment till she hears the door close, wearing a small frown, then grins as the metal creaks shut. "What. A. Bitch," she snickers, raising her hands in a shrug. "You ever seen a bitch like that Bubblegum? She doesn't want anything she can't wrap around her little finger, I'll tell you that for free." The clown has settled easily into gossip, now that her co-manager isn't around.

You're so confused. You need answers. The questions start pouring out like you've sprung a leak from your mouth. Why do they call her Licorice if all of the stuff she wears is chocolate? Why does Bubblegum hate her so much? What is she doing back here?

"Sloow-oh-ho down, sugar, give me a sec! And give me a hand with these boxes while we talk, would you?" the clown girl encourages you, swiping her hand towards a pile that looks ready for shelving. "You can just stack those anywhere. Doesn't really matter."

You get the strong suspicion it does matter where you stack them, but instead of saying that, you follow her instructions, placing candy canes next to chocolate pops like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Answer number one and number two are tied up like a licorice string themselves, you see. There's only one reason Bubs hates me, and here's a hint: it's brown and delicious."

You're a bit aghast. Is she saying Bubblegum is a racist?

"Wuh- no! No, she's no racist, she's just a grade A bitch. I'm the only thing that sets her off and it's all because of chocolate-- the candy, sugar, not the skin tone." She pats your shoulder, feeling embarrassed for you. "You see, Clown Candy actually needs two workers and there's not enough clown assistants to keep this back room how it needs to be all the time. They brought me on to help Bubs out-- called me Chocolate. First couple of days, you're just supposed to do your job, then over a week or something, they'll assign you a fancier name."

You notice you're doing an awful lot of stacking inventory while Licorice does little besides recount her story; she's resting against one of the shelves, sucking on a chocolate pop idly between lines. You find your eyes drawn to her dark lips as they wrap around the head of the candy. "So anyway, they bring this girl named Chocolate in, and there's Bubs. Bubs is too proud! She doesn't want any help. More than that, she hates chocolate, hates it more than anything. She'd even taken all of the chocolate out of the store, which, you gotta know, is a stupid way to run a candy store, for all the good she did the place otherwise," the co-manager chuckles. "Worse than that, they also redecorated her store so that half the damn place is all covered up in chocolate. She was furious. You think you saw her mad just now? No, that's just the tip of that ice queen's perky tit!"

She turns around now, idly rifling through some merchandise as she nurses her sucker and continues her story. She's also kind of moving her hips back and forth in a figure eight motion without realizing she's doing it, perhaps just to keep her legs busy, but you're not complaining at all, even if it makes it hard to focus on your work. "So you see how it is: Bubs was biased against me from the very beginning. An upstart clown she didn't need, dressed up in her least favorite food, forcing her to change her whole store. Plus I..." she trails off, giving you a guilty frown over one shoulder. When you don't respond, she throws her hands up and turns back around, causing the shelf to creak as she rests her back against it. "C'mooon, you get it, don't you? I can't keep up with her! It's not that I'm actually lazy, it's that she's a super-freak, gunning for clown-of-the-month or some shit! She was driving me crazy working the storefront..."

You ask Licorice: did Bubblegum ask management to give her this name and title? That seems mean-spirited...

"Nah, it was my idea. I decided that it'd be easier to try to split the two of us up a bit then to try to keep up like we were. I told them this: call me Licorice the Lazy Clown and split up the work, so I work the back and she works the front. They agreed. Unfortunately, they can't do anything about the storefront being half chocolate now, but the good part is it keeps Bubs and me out of each other's hair."

Your eyes drift up to her eye-catching hairdo, before settling back on her face. You ask: is that really how she sees it? It doesn't seem like they're out of each other's hair at all. It seems like the tension here is all about to boil over!

"Heh, we stay out of each other's way most of the time. I'm the one who's rocking the boat a little bit. See, she gets all kinds of clown assistants up front to help her out, which, okay, I know she needs them. Probably. But with all of them getting intercepted up there, I don't get to meet a single one of you guys! I'm like... the only clown in this whole place that isn't getting a single bit of action," she sighs, crossing her arms and dropping her head. Her head swings back up, showing her shining brown eyes. "But you're the answer to my prayer! Finally, I managed to sneak one through, even though it took months! I gotta say, you've got a lot of balls, slipping past Bubs! Surprised she didn't kill you!"

You tell Licorice that Bubblegum did indeed look as though she wanted to kill you. You are also interested in that part about her wanting a little action, but you keep that to yourself for now.

"Oh. So maybe you're not out of the woods yet," Licorice chortles, holding her arms out to the side and approaching closer to you. "Hey... Bubs was gonna give you some lessons on how to be a proper clown, right? I don't want your time with me to be just stacking boxes of candy for horny adults. So how about this: I'm gonna teach you a little bit about being a clown assistant in her place."

You find yourself in the break-room. You're pretty sure the boxes weren't finished being put up in the stock room, but Licorice doesn't seem to care about that at all, so neither do you. Despite promising to teach you something, Licorice has instead taken a spot on the couch, lying with one arm bent and her palm resting upon her cheek. She grins, motioning you to the folding chair beside the couch.

Once you take your spot, the girl adjusts her droopy mask, then gives a big smile. "Okay, sugar, imagine I'm ringing a bell here after doing some clown shit. Like, imagine I've just had a long day juggling knives or eating torches or something. Or, I dunno, selling candy. Then I ring the bell-- ding ding-- and you come running," she giggles, slapping the imaginary bell twice with her palm. "That bell isn't just your call to duty, it's your chance to impress! I don't just need help-- I want to be pampered and taken care of."

Hm. She really is a lazy clown, huh? You keep that thought to yourself.

"So what I really want is a massage, to get rid of all those aches and pains. It's a win-win, because as a clown assistant, you're only working here because you wanna put your hands all over clowns. I'm right about that, aren't I?" When you nod, she gives another big grin. "Gotcha! Heh heh. So treat me as your clown and I'll treat you as my personal masseuse. Show me how you work those fingers..." The girl's afro bobs as she sits upright and throws her arms over the back of the couch. She's not even lying down for you! What a troublesome girl.

You've never actually given a professional massage... or any massage... but you're not about to blow this chance! Now's your chance to prove what you're made of and also make suffering through that complicated backstory worth the time you put into it.