Buckets of Blood: JANITOR

WHO CLEANS UP THIS BLOOD?

 THERE ARE BUCKETS OF BLOOD - WHO CLEANS UP THE GODDAMNED BLOOD, YOU SLOPPY PIZZA-GREASE-SLATHERED CHIPMUNKS, MY GOD I HATE YOUR PUERILE FUCKING FACES. GET THAT - THAT FUCKING SLIMY BURRITO AWAY FROM THESE FLOORS - I'M GOING TO FLAY YOU AND MAKE THAT RATTY SCRUFFY SCALP OF YOURS INTO A FUCKING DISHTOWEL GET BACK HERE

[.m4a audio clip found on a 2017 Samsung. Device's battery combusted violently before playback was finished.]

Pissants. Every last god-damned burger-munching booger-wiping Monster-pounding one of them. If dust is the gentle excreta of a building to its horizontal surfaces, a message strained through sunbeams, these bipeds overflow from every orifice with radioactive slag.

We clean up your empty Takis bags, discarded vape cartridges, and toilets. Blood-busters. Stain-slayers. Fucking Knights of Sanitizer (the Holy Ratio: One Part San and Six Parts Water).

JANITOR

Look, if you had gear or skills, you would be doing something else.

A: Deckswabbing, Essential Worker

B: Closet, Keyring
C: Bag It, After Hours

D: The Little God Of Little Places

Deckswabbing

If there's a mess, you can clean it in under an hour. Don't try me with who, where, how, or when. For the bad mommas of messes - we're talking decapitations, the busful of sick tweenagers, motile clots of soaked TP - it produces 1d4 BUCKETS filled with the absolute dregs of molecular matter. Each BUCKET is capable of befouling an entire room, no matter how large. Anyone close enough to smell it that isn't you can't breathe. Anyone who touches it with bare skin becomes ritually unclean. Anyone who drinks the stuff - fuck, man. 

Essential Worker
If it's a building which contains humans who excrete, you know the location of the maintenance entrance and fit in as long as you avoid making eye contact with anyone and carry the tools of your trade. This does not get you past actively guarded thresholds, locked doors, or into rooms full of people in white coats unless your services are required.

Keyring
When entering a building you don't have the keys for, you can unlock 1D4 DOORS. Why 1d4? Well, every time you unlock a DOOR, roll 1d4. On a 1, the keys stop working for that building. Did you prop the swing doors open?

Closet

Using your KEYRING, you can declare, before rolling the 1d4, that you are unlocking your CLOSET, which contains enough space to prop up one human-shaped corpse into a standing position. (If you actually do this, the corpse will fall out dramatically when the door opens.) The CLOSET can be used to store anything which fits inside. It maintains a constant temperature of 69 degrees Fahrenheit and has a dim orange bulb with a pullcord.

Anything you put inside the CLOSET stays there, with the exception of:

• Any device which contains music from Def Leppard's High and Dry, ZZ Top's Eliminator, 
• An object colored #DF73FF, 
• Anything alive.

A musical device will be exchanged for a blunt rolled with dark brown paper. The object will be replaced by a jittery confetti-under-a-halogen-light shaded object-sized void which can be superimposed over unwanted things. Latex gloves can be used to manipulate the void, which has the texture of Space Sand, and gradually shrinks over the course of a day into something small, dark, and wrinkled.

Anything alive is no longer, medically speaking, 'alive.' If multiple living creatures are placed in the CLOSET, when reopened, its surfaces will become tacky, like honey, and unreliable.

Bag It
When you're inside a building, if a thing can be lifted by you and your friends and staggered over to a large trash can, you can dump it in, regardless of the state, size, or type of entity, and it vanishes inside, not to emerge if you tie the top of the trash bag. If this would overfill the bag, you have 30 seconds after departing the building to get the bag into a dumpster, or it explodes.

After Hours

If you run into someone inside a building who shouldn't be there, and you're alone, you can tell them to leave, and they will. Strange and terrible creatures will move out of earshot once. If you run into them again that's your problem.

The Little God of Little Places
It speaks to you from the darkness in between the drywall, a closed toilet stall, the drippings left underneath a trash bag. If you placate it, you can close your eyes and step between the little places inside a building.

If you open your eyes mid-step, you end up impossibly wedged into a small place, and it runs its little fingers over your mashed lips and presses its dense little bulk against you.

They won't find anything besides a set of keys and a rolled-up trash bag.