Meth's ashy hands gripped the glossy metal door handle, though he didn't pull it, and instead, he looked around for anyone that may be watching him; however, he saw nobody. He wasn't being watched, and thanks to the multitude of people roaming around the city, he was obscured, and his sombrero and fake glued-on mustache were just enough to keep his identity covert. He opened the door to the petite yet cozy coffee shop, and as he walked into the building, a warm ray of rich dark brew penetrated his nostrils. It was heavenly, enough to give one a boost of energy simply from one sniff.

"Welcome to Arabica flavors," an employee said behind the counter. Another worker cleaned a table with a cloth, not paying attention, but busy listening to the tunes that she played on her headphones. No one else was in the miniature shop, perhaps due to the hot weather, but more likely because it was around four, so not many were in the coffee mood.

Meth tilted his sombrero downwards towards the employee, his already hidden face more covered. "Could I have the…" He faced up at the employee and smiled. "The dark Arab complexion in a medium size." He rolled his eyes. "Or whatever you all call it."

"Yes, you may. Will that be cash or card? Or maybe even SuperPay? Many of the new generation are using it."

"Money," Meth said. "Money."

"That will be twelve dollars and fourteen cents. And will that be to go?"

"Yeah, keep the change," Meth said, handing him twenty dollars and winking at him. He turned around and sat down at one of the seven tables. Placing his hands on his knees, he stared at the employee as they made the drink, from the man's movements to his posture, everything was noted.

It didn't take long for the blend to be finished, an ooze of flavors emitting from the steam of the cup. The employee held the drink and placed it on the counter as he looked at Meth, staring him in the eyes. "Your order is ready."

"It seems it is." Meth picked the drink and walked towards the exit, but he stopped and sighed, shaking his head ever so slightly. He closed his eyes and slipped on the floor, dropping the drink all over the floor. He quickly stood up and wavered his hands in the air. "I'm extremely sorry. I-"

The employee behind the counter rushed towards the scene, pressing his lips together as he spoke. "It's completely fine. Would you like another? No worries, it's on the house."

"No…" Meth said. "That wouldn't be fair."

"It's totally fine. It will be on us."

The other employee ignored the chaos and continued vibing as she cleaned her table.

"You already seemed short-staffed, so it would be rude of me. I couldn't."

"No worries," the employee said, grabbing Meth's shoulder. He widened his lips into a smile. "We're all family over here. Have a seat. Your order will be here shortly."

"If you say so," Meth said, taking a seat on a circular table with two seats.

The male employee walked his way to the back of the counter and into a room, but before he did, he signaled the other worker to clean the mess. All Meth could do was wait as he watched someone clean his mess; however, something was odd, this time the man did not make the coffee behind the cashier where all the equipment was laid.

"Your order is here," the man said, walking out of the room as he held a drink and a straw with his other hand. He sat opposite of Meth, placing the drink on the table and the straw next to it. Watching the time on his watch, he looked up and towards the ceiling. "My name is Benjamin, but you can call me Ben. And no worries, you're free to communicate, Mr. Meth. There are no cameras or communication devices infiltrating Arabica flavors at this moment."

"I had to do quite the act to get your attention, didn't I?" Meth said, creating eye contact with Ben.

"Well, you're not a cautious person. I am. Meaning, I cannot afford to have your tribulations land on my ground. Whatever I have to do, I will, especially with someone like you. It doesn't matter if we've met one hundred times or zero. I will do what needs to be done. Now as for you, Mr. Meth, you're in quite the pickle."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Meth took a deep breath. "What do you want?"

"Want?" He shook his head. "I want nothing to do with you. You are a cancer found in the depths of a dying animal's anus, something vile once it lays foot onto another man's land, that person ought to kill themselves, rather than deal with the nuisance you are. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, MR. METH?"

"I understand. I'll never show my face to you again. And if anyone asks, I'll tell them that we've never met, just like the old times, I'll tell them that we NEVER have met before. But, I need you to accept me into this villain meeting or whatever monster orgie they are doing. Does that sound good?"

"Perhaps, Monkey-Monkey did invite you, but I am the final judge. Why should I accept your plea? You're far more deranged than I thought, if you think I should let you stroll into another plan. Have you not seen the footage that has been leaked of Arthur Penfish? The Heroes now know that such a man lives. The real Wanderer. You cannot fathom the outcomes of your behavior. Because of you, Xavier Bird now has to come out with a ploy to your mess. SO! What do you have to say?"

"Ben, you listen to me. You know I am the truth. You know it!" Meth stood up, shaking the table as he did. He waved his hands in the air like a lunatic. "People run away when they hear my name. The earth fucking shakes when I stand on it. My power is far greater than you can ever conceive. Wherever I look becomes a gold mine for the impoverished like you to try and grab, but no! My sheer aura deters you all from my loot because I am a fucking king amongst jesters. A deity among mortals. A… I AM! I AM!"

Ben smiled, grabbing the drink. "Thank you for choosing Arabica flavors. The secret lies in our drink, hope you can come again."

Meth grabbed it from his hand without saying a word, walking out of the building, but before he did, he looked back. Ben was already over whatever happened, speaking to his employee. He shook his head and left, making sure his face was covered by his hat. Walking with the flow of people, he began to push his way toward an alleyway, and once he was in the area, he chucked his drink against the floor. He took deep breaths, ripping his mustache off and gripping his sombrero, but as he was enraged, he couldn't help but stare at the drink. Dropping his hat, he grabbed the empty paper cup and looked around for anyone watching. Since no one was in sight — not like anyone would be in an alleyway — he ripped open the bottom of the cup, a plastic bag with green crystals inside a secret compartment. He laughed and clenched the bag.

Some of the ongoing city goers could scarcely see him, but they thought of the scene as normal day crackhead activity by a homeless man.

Meth smiled as he opened a manhole cover, allowing him a path into the city's sewage. He descended down the ladder into a wet and acrid system, an area of darkness, exempt of a few dim lights. As soon as he had stable grounding, a multitude of steps mumbled around him, almost like something or multiple beings were trying to give a warning. But he wasn't afraid, instead becoming more cautious as he clenched harder onto his plastic bag. "Whoever is there... Let me warn you, you don't want to start anything you'll regret."

"Oh?" A being with a golden aura said, four other individuals behind him. "We meet again, old friend." The wrinkled-faced capybara held his hand in the air. "Is it safe to assume that you also are here on behalf of Monkey-Monkey's request?"

Meth flared the plastic bag that he held, showing it to the capybara and four turtles. "No need to assume, great Wushu Warrior. After all, I am the real deal."

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

Meth smiled as he stared at Buddha. "Thank you for helping Arthur. Without your aid, it would have been difficult for me to obtain him."

"So... it was you. You're the one that I sensed."

"You could have at least said hello or something." Meth shrugged. "It is what it is. Live to learn another day or something. But enough about the past, shall we speak about the future?"

"Arthur... How is he?"

"You'll hear his name a fair amount in these next couple days," Meth said with a smile. "I get it, you're curious about him, but we have far greater issues to deal with, don't you say?"

"Perhaps..."

"I assume Benjamin also provided you a dose? We should take it now because Monkey-Monkey isn't someone we should piss off."

Buddha nodded as he turned around to his children. "I'll meet you all back at the hideout, for now, stay safe." None of the turtles replied, all of them running into the darkness and disappearing. He opened his ziplock bag full of green drugs, ingesting all of it. Meth followed suit. Both of their worlds turned into a dark green sludge color, everything around them melting into toxic-like waste.

The drug they ingested wasn't a product even available in the black market; it was a special chemical compound utilized for one purpose and one purpose only: deterring Monkey-Monkey's pheromones.

The only side effect to such caution was that they'd temporarily be high. Quite literally both of them were higher than a kite as they hugged each other and danced against the sewage floor, splashing murky water everywhere. Luckily, it didn't take long for the effects to wear off. They both sprung off each other in an instant.

Meth cleared his throat and nodded. "Shall we?"

Buddha nodded. "They know we're here. All we have to do is raise our hands, and we'll be summoned."

They raised their arms towards the ceiling and closed their eyes, waiting to be called upon. It didn't take long because instantly, a ringing infested their ears, forcing them to splash onto the ground as they held their heads and were helplessly on their knees; they could do nothing but lie at the palms of Monkey-Monkey and his desires.