Redshirt chihuahua orchid blues

"The first day on the job they gave me a red t-shirt. I thought this was a bit weird but not too worrying - I didn't expect to meet mortal peril in a garden shop.

" But then I met the greenhouse. The owner, my boss, Mr Harbinger, was a mad horticulturalist with a passion for orchids. I found out on my second day that he had cross-bred some particularly ruthless South American specimens with chihuahuas and ended up with an armed insurrection. The hybrids had formed a pack and taken control over the bottom end of the greenhouse and were not letting anyone, particularly Mr Harbinger, in there. No one would have minded except the controls for the site's watering system was in there, so once a day, someone had to go in to turn it on. As the new hire that muggins was me.

"I have to say, all cliches aside, the red t-shirt gave me a fighting chance. I heard them rustling among the agapanthuses as soon as I went in. As I forced my way deeper into the humid green gloom I knew they were all around me, setting up an ambush for me. Finally I saw one - bug eyed, purple flowered, evil as an audit, tail-roots wagging. Some kind of sixth sense told me that I was meant to see this one, and that the rest of them were circling round behind me.

"I slowly took off my red t-shirt without breaking eye-contact. I was gambling that the monsters still had enough dog in them to 'FETCH!' I tossed the t-shirt one way and pelted off the other. I didn't stop to see what happened to the t-shirt but I heard it all right, and I'll never look at fruit salad the same way again. I got to the faucet and turned it full on, then stampeded back to the door as fast as I could.

"The other assistants were impressed I made it out. Mr Harbinger docked my first pay for the cost of the t-shirt, which I think is a bit unfair."