Yooyu are Appreciated

     Sometimes, when she was hours into her shift, it seemed to her as if all the customers who came were just three individuals, copied over and over. One roared impatiently, with green slits for eyes and a very wide mouth. One frowning, purple and disgruntled, puffing. And one pink-fisted, moving forward demanding, demanding.

     Cheryl served them all with the plastic smile she'd been taught to paste on her face. Her hands were sticky with the slush that inevitably spilt from time to time, and she washed them during the breaks that never seemed long enough. The ache in her arms and waist was always worst at the start, but after enough time had passed she no longer felt it. Same with the scent of the fruit and the whir of the machines - annoying at first, but finally just a constant in the atmosphere, a hum, barely perceptible.

     When would the shift end? Her eyes drifted upward. Why was there a change in the air? The hum was receding. There was a beeping sound.

     Cheryl woke to find that she was in her bed. Her shift hadn't even started yet for the day. She'd slept seven hours, but not deeply, and even in her sleep she'd dreamed of working. She looked at the clock on her bedside table through dry, red eyes, and felt like crying. But there was no time. Hoisting her tired body onto the hot wooden floor, she entered the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. And as she looked into the mirror, she saw...

     ...a Yooyu looking back through the glass at her.

     She blinked. The Yooyu blinked.

     What! This didn't make sense. Cheryl knew for a fact she was a Neopet. A Red Tuskaninny, to be exact. She was not a Petpet. Yet, as she shook her head, the Yooyu's head shook side to side in the mirror, too.

     Could she still be dreaming?

     Cheryl pinched her face. One of the Yooyu's tentacles reached up and pinched its face. There was a real pain. Cheryl looked down, and saw that her body was really a Yooyu's body. Six-pointed, a tentacle at each end, with a tail trailing behind.

     "...I have to get to work," she muttered to herself, still half-awake, stumbling through the bathroom door and down the corridor into the kitchen. Where previously her Tuskaninny body would glide smoothly along the ground, now the Yooyu tentacles danced, tap, tap, tap. The Yooyu body was surprisingly flexible. No wonder those Petpets could curl up and be tossed around in the Altador Cup.

     Well, she was one of them now, she supposed.

     Did Yooyus drink Borovan? Cheryl reached across the kitchen counter, mixed herself a cup of Borovan, and drank it. It tasted... not the same as before, but still good. And then she felt a sudden craving for Petpet food. The sort of dry, crumbly, seemingly tasteless nutritional bits she saw advertised in between Altador Cup games. She needed it. But she didn't have any in her apartment, because she didn't have enough Neopoints to keep a Petpet. So, with the minutes ticking down to the beginning of her work shift, she had to settle for the next best thing: Hasee Puff Cereal. Reaching with one of her tentacles, she didn't bother getting a bowl, but ate the orange and purple puffs directly out of the box, making snuffly noises as she munched.

     Sated, Cheryl wandered over to her wardrobe out of habit and picked up her Slushie Slinger waitress uniform. It didn't fit this Yooyu body, of course, but Cheryl figured that if she at least tied the apron over one of the tentacles, the boss would know it was her? Worth a try, anyways.

     And so Cheryl Shelly the Tuskaninny-turned-Yooyu left her apartment, in the humid warmth of an Altadorian morning.

     There weren't many Neopians out and about this early. The Altador Cup crowds would arrive in about an hour. In the meantime, the Yurble janitor sullenly swept the grounds, and a small delivery Mynci carried a crate towards Altadorian Foods. Two Kacheeks could be seen in the distance, carrying camera equipment to set up the commentator booth. Cheryl rolled left at the stadium entrance, past Hubert's Hot Dog stand.

     A sudden shriek pierced the air. Cheryl winced and turned to see the Yurble janitor jabbing his broomstick in her direction. "WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS YOOYU!" he was yelling. "Did somebody feed it a Supersize Gargantuplex by accident?!"

     "No, wait, I'm not one of the Altador Cup Yooyus," Cheryl tried to say, but the only sound that came out of her throat was a Petpetlike chitter.

     The Yurble snarled. "Can't ever have a smooth day of work around here," he muttered. "First it's a random screaming Techo spilling popcorn all over the stairs, and now this." Ignoring Cheryl's desperate noises, he grabbed her by the tentacles and... rolled her up? Huh. What an odd feeling. Cheryl felt her face press in upon itself, but it wasn't uncomfortable by any means.

     Now rolled into a ball and hoisted atop the Yurble's shoulders, Cheryl felt the air rush by and the Yurble's feet go clop, clop, clop underneath. Some voices were talking nearby - other workers, most likely.

     "Today's just one of those days where I had to have four Jumbleberry slushies to stay awake," one said.

     "Sleep is for the weak," another one said.

     "There's regular tired, and then there's EXTREME tired," the first one said, and Cheryl fancied she could hear the second one nodding.

     "Welp, break's over. Time to be productive."

     The voices receded.

     Normally around this time, Cheryl would be peeling fruit and filling the slushie machines, wiping the windows and tabletops. Her mind was still going through the list of tasks she had to do, but her body was just... curled up now. Being carried by a loud, grumbling Yurble. "Please let me go, I have to work," she tried pleading again, to no avail.

     The clop-clop-clop of the Yurble's feet echoed louder. They seemed to be entering a hollow space.

     "Don't let your Yooyus wander around drinking supersize potions again, will ya?" Cheryl heard the Yurble saying. There was a distant "Leave it there!" in response, and Cheryl felt herself lowered roughly to the floor. THUD. It didn't hurt; Yooyus must have really tough skins.

     The Yurble's footsteps went away, and there was silence. The other worker, whoever it was, seemed to be busy doing something else. Cautiously, Cheryl unfurled herself and peered around. She was in a very dark space. There were several cages, one hanging from the ceiling, the others stacked on the floor. Yooyus were kept in all of them.

     In the nearest cage, a Fire Yooyu crackled, then stopped moving and opened up glowing eyes at her. In the next cage, a Clockwork Yooyu went whir-whir-click, then paused.

     The Clockwork Yooyu whirred again, and Cheryl was amazed to discover that she could understand it.

     "When they let me on the field, I am going to blow up in the players' faces," it said calmly. "You should leave now while you have the chance."

     The Fire Yooyu crackled in agreement. "I am going to burn them as fiercely as I can."

     "No! Wait!" the Regular Yooyu in the highest cage called. "Our keepers feed us! We should obey them!"

     Cheryl pondered this. Having regular meals did seem appealing, as did not having to toil for nearly every waking hour and be yelled at by ungrateful customers. But before she could make a decision, the Yooyu keeper had come around the corner, carrying what looked like an air pump. With a hiss, the needle slid into her skin - she barely had time to cry out - and then she felt herself shrinking, shrinking, into a regular-sized Yooyu.

     "There, you'll be the first one up," the keeper growled. And then there was light. A hatch opened, and Cheryl was airborne, rolling up her tentacles in surprise as the crowd roared.

     The players rushed forward - whap - whap - there was PAIN...

     "Hey, you okay?"

     The roar of the crowd receded. A familiar beep and whir came into focus: the slushie machines. Cheryl looked up from where she was apparently holding a Chokato slushie in her red Tuskaninny hands, and found herself gaping at a customer, a Yellow Ogrin.

     "You gave me the wrong order, you know," the Ogrin was saying. "But I don't mind. Hey, you don't look so good. Everything okay?"

     "I uh... yeah. I didn't sleep well last night," Cheryl replied. "I'm sorry. I must have spaced out."

     The Ogrin nodded solemnly. "I'd tell you that things would get better, but they don't always, at least not for everyone. I am advocating for reduced hours and increased pay for Altador Cup workers. I can't guarantee that I'll be successful, but for now, keep this tip and try to hang in there, will you?"

     Cheryl felt the Neopoints pushed into her hands, and hot tears rose in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

     "Thank you too," the Ogrin said. "No matter what, know that you are appreciated."

     And he was gone. More customers appeared in line, but Cheryl didn't feel so hopeless anymore. Oddly enough, the customers also didn't seem so angry now.

     Cheryl did her best to smile. "How may I help you today?"

     The End.