Calcifer was a normal man. Normal-ish if you ignored the left side of his body. 50% good was good enough anyway. Wasn't his fault he was born looking like Jekyll and Hyde on either half. his parents had accepted him for it, bless their stupid hearts, they were both blind in one eye. Probably contributed somewhat to the whole acceptance.

Might've been the reason he was born this way even. What Calcifer couldn't bare with, however, was the surprising number of complete weirdos coming into his establishment. And this was coming from someone like him. Hell, he'd saw a man have an argument with himself the whole night, talking to some spark or some such. Now Calcifer was left with that damned spark, not being left alone for a damned minute.

SERVANT, BRING THE LIQUID NUTRITION.

"Shut it, you disembodied dictionary."

SERVANT, GUESTS ARRIVE. READY THE LIQUID NUTRITION OR FACE EXTRADITION TO HELLS UNKNOWN.

"Oh, I actually know one of them, right in front of me in fact," Calcifer replied to the spark.

What walked through his door was a man in a long coat bearing a single arm. He looked like he'd been run over and the driver had backed up to finish the job.

He grunted and sat in front of Calcifer, trying to kill him with his telepathic powers no doubt. Who knows, the universe was big enough that there was someone on a planet who could do that.

"Please stop bleeding over the furniture."

"I-I need a phone."

SERVANT, HE IS INJURED. HEAL HIM.

"Can't, ain't Originated." The man in front of Calcifer looked confused for a few seconds.

"I... I don't think you need to be to use a phone? What planet is this? Did I get hit that hard?" he asked, ignorant of the fact that he ended up in the one place where Originated tended to cluster. He was like a dart who had hit a bullseye, if it was a literal bull's eye.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

"Phone's over that way," Calcifer replied and pointed towards the left wall. He also hung a pelt there, one that he hadn't even killed himself. He hung it there to scare the children out of using his phone without using good reason. Even got a spirit put in there to frighten the little buggers off.

Sometimes he'd let it off the hook and watch as it trailed like a snail towards them. Good times.

SERVANT, ATTEND TO THE INJURED'S NEEDS.

"He has none and you know it."

ASK HIM HIS ORIGINATOR, YOU FOOLISH TWICE MAN THING.

now that was just plain offensive. Calcifer wasn't two people, just the one. Well, one and a little more since the spark decided to join him. Though being twice the man was a very nice compliment to hear.

Calcifer watched as the man frustratingly tried to put in the number and failed over and over.

He strode up to him as he was about to blast the thing off the wall.

"Any problems?"

"I can't seem to call anyone i know. The only number leads to a blasted PIZZA PLACE!" and kicked the wall in.

"Aren't you from another world?"

The man stood there in silence and stared at his foot, thoroughly jammed into Calcifer's fine redwood planks. "I can pay," he said.

"Not with the money i take, you can't."

"I really do need to leave, however," he pleaded.

"No one's going to waste the fuel to come all the way here, so start dusting the wood chips into a bin," Calcifer ordered him and let the boy stay there in his position.

SERVANT, I TIRE OF THE MERCANTILE LIFE. DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

"I could turn it into a mobile fortress," Calcifer offered.

THAT WOULD BE SUFFICIENT. BRINGING UNBOUND JUSTICE AND DRINKS TO THE MASSES OF THE LAND. A WORTHY CAUSE.

"I'm not actually doing it."

YOU HURT ME DEEPER THAN ANY WOUND, SERVANT. I WILL RETURN TO CATALOGING HISTORICAL ROMANCES BETWEEN ORIGINATED NOW.

"I didn't know you needed to know those to fight them."

THE SHARPEST BLADE IS OF YOUR LOVER'S, SERVANT.

"I think you don't understand your own euphemism."

I EUPHEMIZE NOTHING. DEEPER MEANINGS ARE FOR THOSE WHO ARE INSECURE ABOUT GETTING THEIR IDEAS FOUND OUT.

THEY HIDE THEM BEHIND LAYERS OF SUBTEXT. I WILL DIG UP THOSE LAYERS WITH THE PHILOSOPHICAL SHOVEL.

"A normal shovel works well enough to threaten them. Subtext doesn't exactly protect the cranium against blunt force trauma."

He retreated back to his counter and stood watch as the man began to sweep up those wood chips with an embarrassed look on his face.