The loss of bruno 16 has weighed heavily upon my mind. I feel like I am just like the old boss that would never remember my name. Outside of brunoes 1 thru 5, could I even tell the other brunoes apart?

Bruno 1 is easy to identify due to his trusted stick he uses to keep the others in line. I guess he appointed himself the Supervisor of the original brunoes. If he lost his stick, would he still be bruno 1? I mean, I judge the one doing the leading of the other four and holding a stick is bruno 1. But can I be sure? 

Bruno 5 is always with Mr. Armadillo. He is holding like a broom or a feather duster, but is always near Mr. Armadillo. So do I just assume any bruno near our pet is bruno 5, or is there a way to recognize him? This is my conundrum. Let's not even get to brunoes 2 thru 4 that I can still not tell apart after almost a month.

As I was mulling over the loss of bruno 16 and trying to understand the role I have given the brunoes, a new challenge appeared. 

Manager, come quick! We have a problem. 

What is wrong? 

We are infested! 

What, this is horrible. We could be shut down if the health inspector comes. 

That's not the point. The bugs are starting to eat everything. Ouch. These bugs are digging into my skin. 

All manner of insects had invaded the store. Brunoes 2 thru 4 try to fend them off with the flesh tree shields. Bruno 1 readied his trusted stick and issued commands to the four. 

Bruno 5 where are you going?(Manager) 

Bruno 5 dove in to save Mr. Armadillo and shielded him with his body. 

Quick everyone, fall back to the meat cooler. (Manager) 

The seven of them dove thru produce throwing fruit at the swarm of bugs. That still belongs to ***** incorporated, but for another day. I try to use FEAR INCARNATE on the bugs to no avail. Little goblins froze due to my skill and were devoured by the swarm. The door to the cooler was still 20 feet away. 

Wait. I am this store. I can defend it. I just need to try to make something move, yes. There it is in the supply closet. The ***** incorporated's Mach 100 floor sweeper. This old behemoth was banned from use, due to the exhaust emitted from its propane engine.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. 

A massive fan blew as it inched it's way over to the swarm. I wondered if it would be up for the task as it constantly backfired. The vacuum nose spewed out dust and bile that clogged it. The propane engine would sputter and restart even before it reached the swarm. 

I saluted it like it was making its final journey out only to be stopped by the worms that gummed up the brushes. Smoke began to appear off the top of the floor sweeper. The motor blew, fire engulfed the floor sweeper and the swarm. A raging fire made it's way to the chemical aisle. As we slammed the door to the cooler close, a symphony of explosions were the last thing anyone remembered. 

Worms play pennical on your snout