Per 
Wing 5 “supplies & equipment”
Gilligan could hear the tap of his non-slip splash resistant boots echo off the walls of the hallway. He grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds out of his overalls. letting them rest in the side of his mouth while he tasted the flavor, dill pickle. Reading over the supply requisition form he was given, wondering if they missed anything important.
- Two stainless steel mop handles
- 30 high absorbent mop heads
- Two mop buckets
- Cleaning cloths and sponges
- Two shovels
- five rolls of extra strength trash bags
- 23 body bags
- 15 gallons of bleach disinfectant
- 15 gallons of enzyme solvent
- Two sets of Personal protection equipment
- 40 gallon drum of hydrochloric acid
He stops at a pair of doors marked “supplies & Equipment.” spitting a mouth full of seeds into an empty coke bottle kept in his pocket as he enters the room. Inside is a warehouse with many shelves of various equipment lining the area behind a counter. Sitting there is a middle aged man, bent over a magazine on modern aviation. Upon hearing the doors close the man peers up over the pages, and raises an eyebrow to Gilligan.
“Well if it isn’t the site shit sweeper!” the man said with a grin
“How are you doing, you glorified bean counter?” Gilligan said while grabbing and unfolding the form.
“I got a comfy chair to sit my fat ass in and a cup of hot coffee, can’t really complain.” he said, grabbing the supply form.
“Did you catch the annual staff bowling tournament last night?” Gilligan asked, taking a handful of seeds out of his pocket.
“No, had some paperwork to finish. how did it go?” he replied while reading over the form.
“How do you think it went?”
“You know one of these years you gotta let the other staff win, or they will stop showing up.”
Gilligan spits a mouthful of seeds into his bottle. “And give up the $50 cafeteria food voucher, not in a million years tom.”
Tom walks off behind the counter, after 15 minutes he returns pushing a cart of supplies into the front of the warehouse. Handing Gilligan a clipboard to sign.
“I don’t envy you Gil. heard wing 3 got torn apart, and I doubt “Hammer down” helped with the mess any.” Tom said grabbing the clipboard back from Gilligan.
“The day I see those jugheads with a mop is the day I cash my retirement check from here!” he said with a laugh, some seeds falling out of his mouth.
“Doesn’t matter because Alex is out on maternity leave, and I got a new guy starting today. So i’m already knee deep in shit.” He added, looking over the contents of the cart.
“New guy, what happened to Zach?” Tom asked nervously.
“He was taken out of commission after our last assignment, accidentally spilt the stew on himself.”
“Jesus Christ, is he still alive?” Tom said casting a glare at the drum of acid on the cart.
“Zachary lost a lot of skin, but I think he might bounce back after grafting.” Gilligan replied, beginning to push the cart out of the warehouse.
“You stay safe Gil, I don’t wanna lose site 57’s bowling champion.”
“You just want that food voucher for yourself tom!” Gil said with a chuckle as the doors closed behind him.
Wing 3 “Euclid Containment”
Spitting a couple seeds into his bottle Gilligan struggled to push the cart with his other hand.
