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Mort, the Shit Manager is a spin-off fictional series of short stories based loosely on the thoughts of David Mortenson, the tyrannical Kwiksave store manager who features in my auto-biographical series 'The Horrors of Kwiksave'.
Mort the Shit Manager Complete Chronology
- Mort as a Stock Lad -
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Flat Arse' - (March 1974)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Mort's Interview' - (March 1974)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Armchair Club' - (May 1974)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Fresh Cream' - (November 1978)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Demise of Reginald Bulge' - (January 1979)
- Mort as a Manager -
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Oxidation' - (July 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Fart Councilling' - (July 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Mandy's Interview' - (October 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Mandy's Curves' - (November 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Bribe' - (November 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Agnus' - (December 1979)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Agnus' Surprise Visit' - (March 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Bloody Nose' - (July 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'Brent's 'Druff' - (September 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Sacking of Brent' - (September 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: Edith's Offerings - (October 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: Hector's Deal: Part One - (October 1980)
- Mort as a Manager with
-Mort the Shit Manager: 'Oppression Supreme' - (December 1980)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Heat Machine' - (March 1981)
Mort the Shit Manager: 'The Day Off' - (April 1981)
"Edith, we have to work together on this, can you supply a stock lad who is neither a brainless dimwit like Brent, nor a muscle-bound psychotic lunatic like that Jim Beef character you offered Kwiksave yesterday?"
James Beef, 6 feet 2 inches and 270 lbs of pure muscle was as true as the name, and had arrived two hours late for the interview. He had threatened to ‘destroy Kwiksave’ if Carrot refused to hire him and that was before the questions began.
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The police had been called and it had taken four officers to contain ‘Beef’, as well as several clouts around the head with batons and the use of a Taser gun. Enough was enough, and Elton was not going to take anymore of these lunatics.
Carrot didn't like Mort, but didn't want to see him beaten to death by a psychopath like Beef.
...a psychopath murders a narcissist, wouldn't that be poetic justice?...
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...'Edith had needs, and not just smoking ones, this was one devious frustrated old lady'...
Edith shuffled around Carrot, looking him up and down appraisingly with a feverish glint in her eye, before belching out a huge cough torrent followed by a bout of uncontrolled retching.
“You have a nice arse cutie”, she croaked, stretching out toward Carrot's rump. The ginger curly-haired assistant manager leaped back in alarm.
Is she a geriatric sexual manic as well as a compulsive smoker?
“Oh come on you sexy ginge, I could give you ginger babies" rasped Edith as Carrot found undiscovered agility he never knew existed, leaped over a counter firmly placing something between the two of them, and bolted.
Without pause he ran for the door but not before colliding head-first into two huge monster blokes barring the way.
“WOAH, WOAH boy.., where the fuck are you going to so quickly?”
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Carrot looked up dazed upon a freaky monster of a man with.... horns. Could this day get any worse?
"Hey wait, are you Mort, I have heard stories about you and they are not good Gringo..."
“My boy here is due an interview and he better get hired or you Morty boy will be getting a visit courtesy of Angel Dust”
What the fuck was going on; was this some kind of living nightmare and what was ‘Angel Dust’?
"Let me at him boss…", growled Hector's accompanying gorilla who was cracking his knuckles in anticipation.
“NOOOOOOOO….Hector, he's not Mort, he's... mine…”, came a shrieking raspy voice from the back of the Job Centre.
Hector glanced up surprised and grinned at the reeling Edith, showing surprisingly white teeth that contrasted with the tattoos, piercings, and horns.
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...'Carrot, the target of Edith's sexual desires. Tobacco breath, wrinkles, cellulite and experience could be his on the flick of a finger'...
“Found yourself a Ginger boyfriend Edith?, don’t worry I don’t care about your fantasies… just our ongoing deal”
Deal, what the fuck was happening? This was Rawtenstall and this freak of nature looked like a Columbian drug lord.
"You Ginger lad, go back to Kwiksave and make sure my boy Razor is hired tomorrow, that's if he passes Edith's intense screening hehe…., I know 'Stock Lad' is a prestigious job like"
Walking back to Kwiksave, Carrot tried in earnest to process what had just happened.
- ‘Angel Dust’ was what? They were not going to kill him, for now.
- Razor Rathwire would be interviewed tomorrow, and needed to be hired as a ‘Stock Lad’
- Who was Hector, was he Columbian and somehow linked to Pablo Escobar?
- Mort had somehow gained a dangerous enemy, what was the motive?
- Could he Carrot, also get cool horns placed in his head like Hector?
Tomorrow was going to be interesting.
…TO BE CONTINUED…
Mort, the Shit Manager is a Serial Shitposting Fiction Story inspired by Torundel the Shitposter by 
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