The Tipsy Tadpole was a riot of noise and color, a far cry from the dank cave we'd left behind. Warm golden light spilled from wrought-iron chandeliers, casting a cozy glow over the rough-hewn tables and mismatched chairs. The air was thick with the smell of roasting meat, yeasty beer, and the earthy scent of pipe smoke.

We'd snagged a table near the back, Gilly insisting it was the best spot for "people-watching." I wasn't sure how much watching he'd be doing, given the rate at which he was knocking back pints.

"Another round!" Gilly shouted, his voice carrying over the din. His gills fluttered rapidly, like small pink fans trying to cool him down. "Barkeep! More of your finest ale for me and my new best mates!"

I winced, feeling the weight of several curious stares. "Maybe we should slow down a bit, Gilly. We've only been here an hour."

"Nonsense!" Gilly hiccupped, his skin flushing a deeper shade of pink. "It's Happy Hour, Stanley my boy! The happiest of hours! You've got to take advantage of it whilst it lasts!"

Effie was perched on the rim of my mug. "I told you this was a bad idea," she said.

Plop, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of his life. He'd stretched himself out across the table, forming a living coaster for our drinks. "Plop like bubbly drink! Make Plop feel funny!"

"Oh no," I said. "Please tell me slimes can't get drunk."

Gilly leaned in, his large eyes slightly unfocused. "Did I ever tell you about Margaret? My wife?" His skin rippled, shifting from pink to a soft lavender. "Loveliest woman you ever did see. Eyes like shimmering pools, gills that'd make your heart stop."

"You mentioned her earlier," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. "In the cave, remember?"

"Ah, yes, yes. The cave." Gilly's expression darkened momentarily, before brightening again. "But did I tell you about our first date? Magical, it was. Took her to the Bioluminescent Gardens. Flowers glowing like starlight, fireflies dancing all around. Kissed her right there under the whispering willow."

I nodded, taking a sip of my ale. It was good, I had to admit. Rich and smooth, with a hint of something I couldn't quite place. Nutmeg, maybe?

"Sounds romantic," I said.

"Oh, it was! It was!" Gilly's gills fluttered faster, his skin now shifting to a pale blue. "We were inseparable after that. Married within the month. Happiest day of my life, it was."

Effie flew closer to my ear. "Is it just me, or is his story changing?"

I nodded slightly. Earlier, Gilly had mentioned meeting Margaret at a local market, not the Bioluminescent Gardens. And he'd said they'd dated for years before tying the knot.

"Tell us more about Margaret," I said, curious to see where this would go.

"Ah, Margaret. She was a warrior, you know. Fiercest in all the land. Could take down a kraken with nothing but a rusty spoon and her bare hands."

I choked on my ale. "A warrior? I thought you said she was a schoolteacher."

"Did I?" Gilly looked confused for a moment, then laughed. "Well, she was both! Teaching by day, slaying monsters by night. That's my Margaret!"

Plop had been quietly absorbing everything (quite literally, as small bubbles of ale were disappearing into his gelatinous form.)

"Plop confused. Gilly wife teacher or warrior?"

"Both, my jelly friend! Both!" Gilly reached out to pat Plop, missed, and nearly toppled out of his chair. I caught him just in time.

"Whoa there, big guy. Maybe we should get some food in you."

"Food? Excellent idea!" Gilly's gills perked up. "Did I ever tell you about the time Margaret and I ate our way through the entire menu at the Kraken's Delight? Took us three days, it did!"

"Stanley, this is getting out of hand. His stories are making less and less sense," Effie said.

She was right. Gilly's tales were becoming more outlandish by the minute. One moment, Margaret was a gentle soul who rescued injured woodland creatures. The next, she was leading armies into battle against hordes of undead salamanders.

"And then," Gilly was saying, his words slurring together, "Margaret says to the dragon, she says, 'You call that fire-breathing? I've seen hotter air come out of a tea kettle!'" He burst into laughter, slapping the table and causing our mugs to rattle.

I exchanged a worried glance with Effie.

"Gilly," I said gently, "maybe we should talk about something else. How about-"

But Gilly wasn't listening. His skin was a kaleidoscope now, colors shifting and swirling in mesmerizing patterns. "Did you know," he said, leaning in close enough that I could smell the ale on his breath, "that Margaret once arm-wrestled the moon? Won, too. That's why it's got all those craters, you see."

"Okay, buddy," I said, trying to push him back into his seat. "I think you've had enough for one night."

"Enough?" Gilly's eyes widened comically. "But we've only just begun! The night is young, and so are we!" He struggled to his feet, wobbling dangerously. "We should dance! Margaret loved to dance. Did I ever tell you about the time we waltzed on the back of a giant sea turtle?"

Before I could stop him, Gilly had climbed onto our table, scattering mugs and sending Plop oozing onto the floor with a surprised "Plop!"

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Gilly announced to the now-silent tavern. "I propose a toast! To Margaret, the love of my life, the wind beneath my gills, the... the..." He frowned, seeming to lose his train of thought. Then his face lit up again. "To Stanley! My new best friend!"

And with that, he launched himself at me, webbed arms outstretched. I barely had time to brace myself before I was enveloped in a damp, ale-scented hug.

"You're my besht friend, Stanley," Gilly slurred into my ear. "Don't ever leave me like Margaret did."

As I awkwardly patted Gilly's back, I caught Effie's eye.

"What do I do?" I mouthed to her.

"Welcome to Arcadia," she mouthed back.

Gilly clung to me, his drunken ramblings muffled against my shirt. The tavern had fallen into an awkward silence, broken only by the occasional clink of glasses and whispered conversations. I caught the bartender's eye, silently pleading for help, but he just shrugged and went back to polishing mugs.

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Suddenly, the tavern door burst open with a thunderous crash. A gust of cool air swept through the room, extinguishing a few nearby candles. Every head turned toward the entrance, where a massive figure stood silhouetted against the moonlit street.

As the newcomer stepped into the light, I felt my jaw drop. It was a catfish-man, easily seven feet tall and built like a brick shithouse. His gray skin glistened with a thin sheen of moisture, and his impressive muscles rippled beneath a tight-fitting shirt. A pair of long whiskers twitched on either side of his broad face as he scanned the room with narrowed yellow eyes.

"Uh, Gilly?" I whispered, trying to pry the drunk axolotl off me. "I think we might have trouble."

Gilly lifted his head, blinking owlishly. "Wha?"

The catfish-man's gaze locked onto our table. His eyes narrowed further, and I saw a flash of recognition. Then his whiskers began to twitch more violently, and a low growl rumbled from his chest.

"Oh, shit," Effie said, diving for cover in my shirt pocket.

The catfish-man stalked towards us, his massive frame parting the crowd like a ship's prow through water.

"Gilly Axelrod!" he bellowed, his voice so deep it made the mugs on our table rattle.

Gilly, still draped over me, lifted his head again. His eyes widened comically as he took in the approaching behemoth. "Oh, hello there, Bubbles! Fancy meeting you here!"

Bubbles? This mountain of muscle and rage was named Bubbles?

The catfish-man - Bubbles, apparently - reached our table in three long strides. Without a word, he grabbed Gilly by the front of his sweater vest and lifted him clean off his feet.

"You've got some nerve showing your face around here," Bubbles said, his whiskers twitching with barely contained rage.

Gilly dangled in Bubbles' grip, his webbed feet kicking uselessly in the air. "Now, now, old chap," he stammered. "Surely we can talk about this like civilized aquatic beings?"

"Talk?" Bubbles asked. "Like you talked to my girlfriend? Like you've been talking to everyone in this town, spinning your lies?"

I stood up slowly, hands raised in what I hoped was a placating gesture. "Whoa, let's all calm down here. What's going on?"

Bubbles turned his glare on me, and I fought the urge to shrink back. "You one of this little weasel's new victims?"

"Victim? I don't-"

"This pathetic excuse for an axolotl," Bubbles cut me off, giving Gilly a shake for emphasis, "has been stalking my girlfriend, Margaret, for weeks. Following her around town, leaving 'gifts' at her door, telling everyone they're married!"

I felt like I'd been dunked in ice water. "Married? But you said... Margaret?"

Gilly had the grace to look ashamed, or maybe he was just turning green from being shaken. "Now, see here," he slurred, trying to put on a brave face. "It's all a big misunderstanding! Margaret is my true love, you see. We're destined to be together!"

"Bullshit!" Bubbles roared, causing half the tavern to flinch. "You've never even spoken to her! You just made up all these stories about being married, about some magical romance. It's all lies!"

I sank back into my chair. All those stories Gilly had told us - the romantic first date, the whirlwind courtship, the years of happy marriage - they were all fabrications? I figured some of it was embellishment, but I hadn't counted on the whole story being bullshit.

"It's delusions," Bubbles said. "All of it. He's nothing but a sad, lonely little man who can't face reality."

Gilly's face crumpled, his earlier cheer replaced by a look of desperate defiance. "You're wrong!" he cried, struggling weakly in Bubbles' grip. "Margaret loves me! She just doesn't know it yet! You're the villain here, keeping us apart!"

Plop, who had been watching the scene unfold with wide-eyed fascination, chose that moment to speak up. "Gilly lie to Plop and friends? Gilly bad?"

"Yeah," Effie said, poking her head out of my pocket. "Looks like Gilly's full of shit."

Bubbles glared at Gilly, his patience clearly at an end. "I've had enough, you little creep."

With that, Bubbles drew back his free hand, formed it into a massive fist, and swung.

I watched in horror as Bubbles' massive fist hurtled towards Gilly's face. I found myself torn between the urge to intervene and the very real fear of getting caught in the crossfire.

At the last possible second, Gilly's body went limp and slippery. He slid out of Bubbles' grasp like a wet bar of soap, the catfish-man's fist whooshing through empty air. Gilly hit the floor with a wet splat, quickly reforming into his usual shape.

"Missed me!" Gilly taunted, his drunken bravado returning. He stuck out his tongue, which was surprisingly long for an axolotl.

Bubbles roared in frustration, his whiskers whipping about like angry snakes. He lunged for Gilly again, but the slippery axolotl dodged, sliding between Bubbles' legs and popping up on the other side.

"You'll have to do better than that, you overgrown sardine!"

"Gilly, maybe don't antagonize the guy who's twice your size?" I said.

But Gilly wasn't listening. He was too busy playing a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse with Bubbles, ducking and weaving between tables and chairs. The other patrons scattered, some diving for cover while others cheered on the fight.

"Ten gold on the catfish!" someone shouted.

"Twenty on the pink fellow!" another voice chimed in.

"We should probably do something, right?" Effie Said.

Before I could answer, Bubbles finally managed to grab Gilly. He lifted the axolotl high, preparing to slam him onto a nearby table.

"Hey!" I shouted, surprising myself. "Put him down!"

Bubbles turned his yellow glare on me. "Stay out of this, human. This doesn't concern you."

I swallowed hard, my legs shaking. What the hell was I doing? This wasn't my fight. But something in me couldn't just stand by and watch.

"Look," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "I get that Gilly's been a creep. But beating him up isn't going to solve anything."

"Speak for yourself," Bubbles said. "I think it'll solve plenty."

He turned back to Gilly, who was squirming in his grip. I looked around frantically for something, anything that might help. My eyes landed on Plop.

An idea struck me. "Plop," I whispered, "remember how you scared off that spider in the forest? Think you can do something like that again?"

Plop's eyes lit up. "Plop help!"

Before I could say anything else, Plop began to grow. And grow. And grow. His blue, gelatinous body swelled and stretched, taking on a vaguely bear-like shape. Within seconds, a massive, translucent bear-slime hybrid towered over everyone in the tavern.

The room went dead silent.

Bubbles, his grip on Gilly loosening in shock, turned to face the new threat. "What in the name of…"

Plop-bear let out a roar that shook the rafters, sending mugs and bottles clattering to the floor. Several patrons screamed and made a mad dash for the exit.

In the chaos, Gilly managed to wriggle free from Bubbles' grasp. But instead of making a run for it, the drunken axolotl seemed to take this as his chance for revenge.

"Take that, you bully!" Gilly yelled, charging at Bubbles and headbutting him square in the stomach.

Bubbles stumbled back, more surprised than hurt. His massive tail swung around, knocking over a table and sending a spray of ale into the air. The liquid hit Gilly full in the face, causing him to sputter and lose his balance.

I ducked just in time as a chair flew overhead.

The tavern had devolved into complete chaos. Plop-bear was lumbering around, trying to separate Bubbles and Gilly but mostly just knocking things over. Other patrons had joined the fray, either trying to break up the fight or settling old scores of their own.

I saw a gnome swing from a chandelier, dropping onto the shoulders of an orc and pulling his beard. A pair of elves were using their long arms to hold back a dwarf who was trying to get at Bubbles with a broken bottle.

"Stanley!" Effie shouted in my ear. "Do something!"

"Like what?" I yelled back, dodging a flying tankard.

"I don't know!"

Gilly was clinging to Bubbles' back now, his little arms wrapped around the catfish-man's thick neck.

"Take it back!" Gilly was shouting. "Admit that Margaret loves me!"

"Never!" Bubbles said, spinning in circles as he tried to dislodge the axolotl.

They careened into Plop-bear, who instinctively reverted to his smaller form. The sudden loss of the giant bear caused Bubbles to lose his balance. He toppled backwards, crushing Gilly beneath his massive frame.

There was a sickening squelch, followed by a pitiful groan.

"Gilly!"

We managed to roll Bubbles off, revealing a flattened Gilly. His colorful sweater vest was in tatters, and his body looked more like a pink pancake than an axolotl.

Bubbles got to his feet, looking down at Gilly with satisfaction. "Had enough yet, you little pest?"

Gilly's only response was a weak bubbling sound. I knelt beside him, unsure if axolotls could be squashed to death.

"Gilly? You okay, buddy?"

Slowly, painfully, Gilly began to reinflate. His features shifted back into place, though he still looked pretty worse for wear.

"I think I'm done now," Gilly said.

Bubbles snorted. "Good. Now listen up, because I'm only going to say this once. Stay away from Margaret. Stop spreading your lies. And if I ever catch you following her again, I'll turn you into fish bait. Got it?"

Gilly nodded weakly.

With a final glare, Bubbles turned and stomped out of the tavern, his departure punctuated by the splintering of the doorframe as he squeezed through.