Night of the Consumers: Retail Horror
A strikingly accurate reflection of retail jobs
“YOU’RE LATE!” the manager said. His face was in mine; I noted that his features were static, as if plastered on. He seemed satisfied with me as a candidate. The store’s reputation needs upholding, and Jimmy will show me the ropes, he said.
Jimmy dashed through the staff room door and puked. He spluttered something about hitting his limits and handed me a survival guide: use the staff-only rooms to avoid customers, throw boxes at them if you must, beware the baby. Jimmy left the job, and my shift started.
A simple jingle meandered about the store. An ominous mist loomed about, limiting my vision. No matter, I got to work. I found one of the boxes I was tasked to empty onto the shelf; it was labelled “Drinks.” The beverage aisle was close by, and I was filling up the shelf with bottled yellow liquid in no time.
I went to pick up another box across the aisle, but I was distracted — in the corner of my eyes, I saw a figure doing jumping jacks. Strange, I thought as I inched out of the shelves’ cover toward the box — that was enough for him to spot me. The figure bolted toward me, screeching “EXCUSE ME.” He grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled himself into view, a broad smile cracked on his face.
“Y’ALL GOT THAT FORTNITE MAGAZINE?…WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS JUST A STUPID GAME?!?!” The man spluttered in my face.
It was my first day, I did not know where the Fortnite magazine was. I darted around the store searching, the customer followed close by, still yelling his demand, still doing jumping jacks. The tension was rising. My time was running out.
“I WANT TO SPEAK TO A MANAGER!” I could only see his gaping mouth.
The lights went off. I was alone in the store. I saw the manager, he saw me too. The next moment he was jolting me violently by the shoulder, or was it by the throat? His plastered on face smiling. I was fired.
The above is a rough description of my first attempt at Night of The Consumers: a horror game set in retail work. I am no big fan of horror games. How people subject themselves to trauma and calls it entertainment is beyond me. I played this game because as a survivor of retail work myself, I like to see a parallel comparison between reality and fiction. However, what kept me playing after the first attempt was the masterful design of the game.
This game walks a delicate balance between looking like a zombie game and still keeping the retail work theme. Consumers resemble zombies wearing a human costume. They have a crazed look to them: wide-eyed and smiling. The animations are clunky and jerky, making the consumers seem ungainly, but once they spot you, they will have their arms outstretched and move at a terrifying speed.
The sound designs are haunting. Typically, soft elevator music plays in the background; it acts as a thin veneer of peace. The tune is not cheerful; it is simple but ponderous. The tune’s simplicity makes it feel treacherous, like it will break off into chaos at any moment — the calm before the storm. The moment you get spotted, the game hits a heavy note: the music descends into a deep mess. If caught, the game plays a disturbing synthwave that gradually speeds up as your time runs down — it’s angst made audible.
The game’s mechanical design encourages the players to panic. While shelving, you can grab more than one item in hand if you are quick enough, which means the most efficient way to stock is to madly swing your arm up and down between the shelf and the box. Consumers don’t make a sound until they’ve spotted you, so you are likely to run into one around the corner. Consumers also run only slightly faster than you, which gives you a chance to dash for the staff-room. All of these factors combined means the most effective way to play this game is to panic: fling products up on shelves and run the moment you hear a consumer.
My first few attempts were tense. Restocking the shelves while also watching over my shoulders. When I heard the dreaded “EXCUSE ME,” a surge of panic ran through me as I made for the staff-room. But after three or four attempts, the scare factor wears off, and the boredom settles in. Getting caught by consumers is less of a scare and more of an annoyance. This does not take away anything from the game; in fact, this captured the nature of retail work better. My personal retail work experience started as an anxiety-inducing trip, where I struggled to keep customers happy. I eventually grew accustomed to demanding customers and occasional disturbance, but in exchange came the soul-crushing boredom.
Working in retail is the stuff of modern nightmare, and Night of The Consumers reflects it starkly. If you never worked in retail and wish to experience it without subjecting yourself to actual harm — I recommend this game.
