The scream of the chicken ovens alarm was headache inducing already, let alone those who came in hungover. Sucks to be them.

↓ Transcript
[Ash shrugs seemingly nonchalantly, though his weary grin and sweat drops say otherwise as he leans on a wayward box he was marking up.]
Ash: It's alright. I don't mind.

[CJ raises her hand up again in dismissal as Ash tries to explain his point]
CJ: Really? Must be shit parties if you'd rather be here. Next time, just call in sick. Not like there's much reason to be here.
Ash: Apart from getting paid...?
CJ: That's what sick pay is for(!)

[CJ looks mischievous]
CJ: You could go home right now. There's no manager around to know...

[Ash is putting reduced tickets on the labels on the counter in front of him, pulling a strained expression at CJ's irresponsible suggestions.]
Ash: I'd rather not. I've got a shift tomorrow morning and I don't wanna turn up in a state.

[A hypothetical vision of Ash, badly hungover with his eyes blurry and his tongue out, seemingly melting on the spot. Verity is talking loudly whilst donning oven gloves, the chicken oven alarms are screaming, the tannoy callout blast over Ash and Khara is in the background using the very clunky deli meats slicer.]

Ash: You might get away with it on the evening but I can't!