Hey, look! The pizza’s here!

by thosedamnlemmings

Summary:

Just two one eyed, very short guys trying to survive along with their cats + one bordering on homicidal alter.

Chapter 1: Info on the AU

In this fic a couple things have changed.

But here’s what you need to know (for now).

OMORI:
Good ending happened Sunny confessed to what he and basil did, kel forgave him immediately, hero was a wreck but he came around, and Aubrey never truly forgave him but she’s trying to understand.

Everyone is 19 now with the exception of Hero of course, they’re all going to college with the exception of Sunny and Kel, Sunny because he’s saving up for art school, and Kel is taking a gap year.

Sunny is now working at a pizza place.

Sally face:
Larry still committed suicide but they stopped the demon before the everything went to mass murder, (also earlier when Sal was 19.

Todd wasn’t messed up by red eyes as badly as in canon but he’s still recovering with Neil by his side (aww).

Lisa was of course devastated by Larry killing himself (as was everyone) so Sal delayed moving out.

Sal decided he wanted to get far away from home so that’s how he ended up working at a pizza place with Sunny.

Also ghosts work a bit differently now, so Larry is Sal’s cool ghost roommate! (Who demands new Sanity’s Fall merch every week on threat of breaking all the electronics in their apartment.

There isn’t a regular uploading schedule and there probably won’t be any sort of plot just connected oneshots.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Sal starts work at the pizzeria and meets his strange coworker, seriously what is with that guy? Well, it’s not like Sal’s one to judge anyways.

“Boo.”

“Ahh!!”

Sal wakes with a start, his head jolting from his pillow, and gets shocked into full awareness when he collides with Larry’s ghostly form.

“Haha, got you Sally Face!”

Sal decides that Larry doesn’t deserve any reply for waking him up like that and just yawns, running a hand through his hair.

“What time is it?” Sal asks still exhausted despite going to bed so early, seems like the lullaby of Sanity’s Fall blaring from the living room didn’t lull him to sleep like it usually does.

“Eight a.m. sleepyhead.”

Sal turns to glare at the pale, dead form of his friend hovering beside him, “I told you to get me up at seven, I told you to get me up exactly at seven actually.”

“Aw, come on man, don’t be such a Debbie Downer, your shift starts ten thirty anyways.”

Sal sighs, Larry’s right but Sal still wants be his best on his first day, after sending his resumé to what felt like thousands of places, only getting an interview for a few, which all immediately turned rotten because apparently they were only able to handle the idea of him and not the actual thing, mask and all.

After many rejections, like an Angel descending from the heavens came Lil’ Johnny’s Pizzeria, one surprisingly smooth interview later and Sal was all set to work there, no more paying rent out of his dad’s wallet.

It had been an instant relief and the moment he told Larry the news they both celebrated - not with anything fancy they just jumped around a bit and played video games into the dark hours of the night - but landing a job (finally!) also brought a lot of anxiety, what if he fucked up and got fired immediately, what if his coworkers tried to make his life hell, what if a customer decided they didn’t like the look of him, complained to the manager and after one more look at the scrawny 21 year old, Sadie decided she really didn’t like the look of him?

Well today’s the day of reckoning, and Sal really has to brush his teeth.

10:11 a.m.

There’s a loud popping noise as Sal cracks his knuckles, before gripping the sides of his head and cracking his neck too, he rolls his head around a bit more to work out all the kinks, and has to physically stop himself from tugging at his pigtails which he worked at far too long to get just right.

The bluenet starts to manically twist at his rings, taking them on and off and rearranging their order while he contemplates whether he should go up to the door or not even though he’s early.

For the last five minutes Sal has been prodding at the gap in his teeth where he never bothered to get braces to fix the spot where his tooth didn’t grow in all the way, and watching someone go back and forth, flipping all the chairs down from where they had been set on top of the tables for the night.

He decides that he should just go up to the door and ask whoever’s setting up for the day if he should help,

Right before his hand wraps around the handle he turns back, this is stupid, I should just wait until it’s time for me to be shown the ropes, and not bother anyone.

. . .

Fuck it.

Just as he’s turning back around, the shopkeepers bell jingles as the unknown employee swings open the door.

There’s a brief moment where the thin, pale boy looks to be on the verge of tipping over, one hand braced on doorway and the other wrapped around the handle before he straightens up, looking at Sal with a dead-eyed gaze, like a shark, Sal thinks.

Face to face with him, the courage to speak suddenly drains out of the masked boy man.

“Hello my name is Sal Fisher.” -but my friends call me Sally Face.

He doesn’t react, his feline eyes just stare deeper into Sal’s one eye.

Sal squirms in his skin, trapped under the strangers dark gaze.

Taking a moment to get over his nerves, observes what said strangers is wearing,

Hello! My name is

-Sunny

Sal can’t help but find it funny that such a distinctly, unsunny, person has that name, the name tag is pinned onto the ugly pale-ish red and yellow apron that all employees are made to wear, underneath that they’re wearing a black sweater vest on top of some light gray flannel with the sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up to about midway up his forearm, revealing the edges of some scars.

Sal is again stuck, trying to reach the intensity of the stranger’s gaze.

He still can’t seem to get any words out, for the first time when faced with a newcomer it doesn’t seem like his own appearance is being put under scrutiny, instead it feels like the frail boy is looking straight past his mask and his scars, and peering through to his soul through the window of his eye.

“Umm,”

Just that small vocalization seems to break the spell, though nothing seems to physically change about the black haired stranger, the claustrophobic feeling that he had been stuck with lifts.

“I’m supposed to start working here today.” He pushes past his lips, and though he still doesn’t speak he steps to the side to stop block the doorway and throws his hand back over his shoulder and points with his thumb to the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Sal says, not quite sure what else to say as he walks to the managers office, and waits for Ms. Sanchez.

10:53 a.m.

Now donning the pinstripe apron of victory (which smells like weed and month old lasagna), Sal is officially ready to face the day, he just really hopes that his coworker- Sunny , has become dramatically less intimidating in the last half hour.

5:41 p.m.

The day went by much quicker than Sal thought it would, and his arms are sore from working, thankfully that work had just been bussing tables and washing dishes (as well as making sure the pizza went unburnt), Sal had also met another one of his coworkers (not counting the chef who he had met during his interview), who unlike certain people, is fitting of the descriptor sunny.

Jamie, through some miracle (or probably because they’re just god’s favorite) isn’t stuck with an ketchup-and-mustard color scheme, instead their apron is an almost bubblegum pink shade of red, and pastel yellow the same shade as a really good buttercream frosting.

Unlike he had hoped however, Sal’s other coworker remains just as frosty.

Sal had managed to work through his intimidation by regarding Sunny with a careful disdain instead of the flat out fear that still got induced him whenever they looked his way.

Currently there are only three people in the restaurant, one being an exhausted college student that’s been woefully staring at her laptop (presumably an essay) while absentmindedly nibbling at a corner of her garlic bread for the past 20 or so minutes.

The others were two guys chatting while they worked on finishing their everything pizza.

Despite Sunny’s apparent mutism he had been getting along just fine sitting at the register and taking the occasional order from someone, well, that was at least until now.

Sal is being taught how to make the pizza dough nice and round by Alejandro (and being glad that Larry had convinced him not to wear too nice of a shirt) when the bell rings signaling a new customer.

It’s only another second before he can hear the shrill voice of a woman who apparently isn’t satisfied with the customer service.

Peaking around the corner into the main restaurant, sure enough a short, mousy haired woman is prattling away at Sunny while her daughter is staring too intently at their phone for it to just be because whatever’s on there is interesting.

Sunny is currently worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth while she continues, “Where’s your manager young man!?” She continues, and Sunny just sits there avoiding eye contact, looking quite helpless and a bit irritated.

Sal, though he know’s he really shouldn’t, steps in “What seems to be the problem ma’am?”

The woman gawks for a moment before muttering something along the lines of “Now this is just ridiculous.”

She clears her throat “The problem is that this boy is being uncooperative,” “How so?” “He said that he’s mute.”

Sal holds back the part of him that wants to say something about how, ”If he’s mute how did he say that?” in favor of,

“And what’s the issue with that?” Trying to keep his voice as polite as possible, she sneers at him, obviously displeased by his question, “No one would hire a mute.”

Sal thinks that other days he would have thought that exact thing, but that was also when he thought no one would ever hire him.

Now Sal’s face is starting to hurt from his muscles being overworked and he wants to shut this bitch down, now.

“You’re saying that,” Sal lets his words simmer in the air for a moment to really get across to her how stupid he thinks she is,
“To me?”

That seems to shut her right up, The Bitch™, then leaves, her kid saying an audible “Thank god.” As they go.

Sal’s already almost back in the kitchen when he here’s two knocks coming from his left.

When he turns around Sunny is holding up a note pad with “Thank you” and a little smiley face scrawled across it.

Notes:

I’m dead inside.

I just started this four hours ago, and now it’s 2 in the morning and my stomach is cramping for unknown reasons.

Anyways it did take an embarrassingly long amount of time for me to sit down and write this, only for it to take me 4 hours to get over 1,000 words out.

Anyways, i hope no one was annoyed by my descriptions, or my bad writing of your stereotypical Karen, but I was sleep deprived, and little old Karen was only ever a plot device to start melting the ice between Sal and ”Sunny.”

*Le gasp* twas’ Omori all along?

Yup sure was, also if you felt any ”vibes” between Sal and Omori, those would be the vibes of Sal being scared to death by something not quite human, because in this fic Omori is 14 now because he only started aging past twelve after headscape was destroyed.