🐻 A Bear Walks into a Bar

Being chronically understaffed is a nightmare I can't seem to wake from. Not only did I have to close last night, but here I am, back before dawn, opening. I must have forgotten to lock the back door after closing, because when I walk into the bar, a bear is making its way through the garnishes, one jar at a time.Tart cherry juice—please let it be cherry juice—splatters the top shelf and dribbles down the liquor bottles. Broken glass shimmers across the floor. It looks like a murder scene, except the only one that is about to be murdered is me, by the bear, that just made eye contact.“Oh sh—” I shriek as the bear pops the top off another jar—yup, cherries—and plops a juicy one into their maw, White teeth glistening against the red juice.The bear grumbles faintly as it chews, eyes never leaving mine.“Good bear,” I say, slowly backing toward the door. “I would taste terrible.” Another step backward. “You don't want to eat me.” I feel my back bump against the doorframe.The bear places…