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His blood ran cold.

He stands at the cash register, bored out of his mind. The 3rd shift is really the slowest out of the three shifts he's worked at this convenience store. He's already cleaned the store twice, the coffee pots three times, and counted the cigarettes four times, all out of pure boredom. 

Just as he decided to go out onto the floor again, this time to zone and front-face the store for the second time, someone came in, walking right up to the register.

"Hi!" He put on his best customer service smile. "Welcome! What can I do for you?" He moved to the side so the customer could see the cigarettes, in case that's what he was looking for.

A gun is placed on the counter.

"I want all the money in the register."

His blood ran cold. He began shaking. 

He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, sir." His life was not worth the measly hundred he had in his register.

He opened the register, keeping an eye on the gun and the man as he pulled out the cash.

After handing the cash over, the man darted out of the store.

Still shaking violently, he picked up the store's phone and dialed 9-1-1 while pressing the 'panic' button under his register.

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