Advice to Anita on the subject of going to work

What's the matter sweetie? Don't want to go to work? I know, it sucks doesn't it?
Even if it's just a few hours?
Yes, I hear you - tired of serving sausage rolls to idiots, I know. It must be hard.
And they never have the money ready - yes, you told me. Don't look at me like that, I'm just trying to help.

Here's what you do. First one that comes to the counter you ask them all nice what they want. You know which ones to do it to, you can spot a sausage roll eater - you told me. Get one of them, and ask them nicely. When they say 'a sausage roll' get a sos roll and plonk it on the counter like it's a dead rat. Don't hold back. When they look up at you, let them see the hatred in your eyes and whisper ' eighty pence'. They will hesitate, or ask you to repeat yourself. This is the moment, sweetheart. to let it all out. Scream at them - 'EIGHTY PENCE YOU GORMLESS MOTHERFUCKER - THAT'S ALL IT COSTS TO EAT YOURSELF INTO THE GRAVE' then hit them in the face with it, right across their fat red chops and ask them if they feel like crying yet. Ask them if they want it in a bag, then accuse them of touching you inappropriately.

Stop.

Then start again - 'eighty pence, eighty pence! come you melon-headed, ball-eyed freak, eighty pence, it's what they cost, it's not quite a pound! Can you deal with numbers less than one?' Numbers eh? Remember them from that day you spent in school?' Then take them by surprise, smear the sausage in their face, whip a bag over their heads and smash them face first into the counter! While they are dazed take something heavy and hit them repeatedly, over and over again, until the hatred becomes your friend. Smash them into the ground like the bore-faced mud-filled bags of death they are. Keep going, leap the counter and beat them down into the ground like a fat piggy peg. When they are down to their shoulders you can dance around them in a circle - 'eighty pence, eighty pence woop woop'. For the climax of the piece take a run at them and kick their sausage-roll-eating head clean off their body out onto the street where it gets squashed by a bus and shove a fresh new sausage roll down their neckhole. Then out into the street, take off your baker's hat and scrape up the fleshy mess that used to be their brains and scoop into the hat. Calmer now, you can take it to the kitchen at the back, grind it down, put it in pastry and bake it. Just in time for the next customer - 'A sausage roll please', 'Certainly', you beam. 'That'll be eighty pence please.'