Abel continued reading the monstrous sized book as Kevin and Barnaby left. He thought about waving them bye, but was too transfixed between the small font and large pages to properly process what he was about to do.
In the event that a guest begins asking for drinks while showing clear signs of intoxication, you are to cut them off the tap and have them escorted out of the locality or to friends if they begin showing signs of aggression due to the situation.
“So many fancy fuckin’ words.” Abel said to himself, trying his hardest to not stop himself from reading. He kept thinking about his next plan mentally, knowing Barnaby’s cameras are catching his current study session. His next move had to be tactical, and not come across as suspicious to the tapes.
Slowly, he began moving a claw over the page, pretending to read visibly, while continuing to think within his mind.
I could go into the back and act like I’m trying to find a broom.
He flipped the page, brushing his paw along to view a new blank paper. He flipped to the end of the book. “I didn’t read the whole thing this quick, did I?”
He was expecting a reaction from Kevin. He looked up at the counter, realizing Kevin left already. I’m losin’ it. He shut the olive book, the leather texture felt odd in his grasp, it screamed artificial, and not in the good way.
He decided to take this time to familiarize himself with the bar, by starting with what was beneath the counter.
He got down on his knees, his upper body still very visible whilst glaring down into the small shelves of menus, cutlery, glasses, and… a fire extinguisher?
Can’t be too safe, I guess.
Abel took out one of the cups, inspecting the artificial color of its make. Despite being a standard shot glass, it looked as yellow as an unflushed toilet in a gas station bathroom.
Abel looked up to the left of the counter, giving an old vintage security camera his attention, a full stare-down.
“Ugh. You gotta wash your shit, Bee.”
It had the counter and bead hallway within its view, if only slightly, but he knew to be sure to stay in its blind spot. The thing was only good for getting a general view of the middle and entrance, rather than the whole bar.
Getting back into the camera’s proper view, he stood up and took the book Barnaby had given him earlier, and put it beneath the counter, re-entering the better blind spot.
I’ll go into the hallway.
He stood up, brushing some of the colorful rocks tied between yarn, and went through. They always hurt, but Barnaby said it was good for the spirit. Abel called them good for brain damage. Something he jokes about Barnaby having.
The long wooden hallway stretched out with a doorway on both the left and right side. The left entered into the kitchen, the right into an odd storage closet that Barnaby tried to turn into a security room. It better served as scrolling around on their phone while waiting for someone to come in on the camera.
Abel looked above and around him, trying to spot any more cameras. All he could see were misty cobwebs as well as the cracked and stained stone ceiling. He shook his head in a swift motion, just as he made it to the closet door.
“Okay, Bee. How clean have you gotten?”
He hovered his paw over the knob, his memory of the room behind the door still engraved in his mind. As messy as a dumpster, or your alcoholic father. Whichever one made more sense for relation, Abel wasn’t sure.
He opened the door, the small rectangle long and sized room had a clean wooden flooring, the walls weren’t so clean, but how clean can cracked gray stone be? Abel shot his head around, surprised by how prestine the room looked.
“Niiiccceee.” Abel said, impressed by the unusual look in the environment. What with Barnaby keeping rooms people would never see dirty, Abel expected to sift through trash.
For as happy as he was, he also realized an issue. He was too big to fit in this narrow space. He tried turning to his side, walking like a crab as he entered. His back scraped with the wall as he kept moving little by little inside.
Eventually, he made it to the small desk at the end of the hallway. Abel slowly twisted his head to the right, all the better to see with. There was a small 90’s desktop computer open on a chess game with a robot. The robot, of course, was winning.
The tiger clicked his tongue between his canines. Tck. Unable to properly move his paws, he couldn’t step in to save his friend from a sad defeat. But as he thought about the computer game, he realized something.
Where’s the camera stuff?
He tried to lower his knees a bit, to get his arm closer to the computer, maybe he could interact with the small mouse and find a camera application. He sank low, almost crushing his nose into the cold blue painted wall in front of him just to get a grasp on the tiny mouse. It must’ve been a perfect size for Barnaby, or really, anyone that wasn’t as big as Abel was.
“Finally!” He grunted in a staggered breath, the miniature mouse beneath his hand, he slowly moved it between tired breaths while working with the squeezing surroundings of the room. He hovered the arrow over an X button, closing Barnaby’s chess game.
“You would’ve lost anyway.” He assured himself, as he watched the computer generate the home screen. The only options were a folder about menu items, the chess game, and something called “STALK.EXE”. All three options sat at the middle of the screen, with nothing else available.
“It’s definitely this.” He said, pressing the “STALK.EXE” shortcut. The desktop screen slowly darkened, as an animation for the application played, being a large eye that opened and shut its eye, before transitioning to the perspective of the camera by the counter in the bar.
Abel scanned the desk, trying to look for his main prize.
“Where the hell is that intercom?”
Such a thing would be an easy sight. Whether a small stick of a microphone, something in a drawer, or knowing Barnaby, probably on the floor in their apartment. Whatever it could have been, it wasn’t here, and Abel was disappointed.
With a heavy sigh, the tiger slowly crab walked out of the “security room”, before getting his tail stuck between a crevice.
Oh for fuck sake…
He tried twisting a bit to get a look at the long swab of fur stuck in whatever gap the wall had, but couldn’t find way with how closed the space was. Instead, he slowly moved out of the room for as far as his tail let him part way, and then had a jolt of pain up his spine as he slightly tugged back.
Standing just by the corner to the outside of the door, Abel tried shaking his waist bit by bit to try and unhook his tail. Unable to tell how exactly it’s stuck, he had to try a few methods before finally managing a small bit of progress.
He was able to walk out the door fully, and somewhat curve around to see the problem himself. His tail got stuck in an iron hook inside the hole in the wall. My God…
Twisting his back to lean his claws into the tight iron make that had a strong hold on his appendage, he managed to get himself unstuck, and quickly shut the door.
Another terrible memory of that room trapped in his mind.
He grumbled, various curses to that random hook beneath his breath, as he made his way back to the front of the hallway. He raised his arm out, holding the beads to his left as he passed through, not in the mood to deal with them again.
Empty. Just what I thought.
Abel wasn’t a cocky person by any means, but he had a strong feeling that the bar wouldn’t get that many people today.
Considering a party at the cemetery which is already across town, who would come all the way here for a cheap drink?
Just as he began daydreaming about what he could do while sitting around, or more accurately, standing around at the counter.
The front door creaked loudly, as a hairless rat and calico cat entered.
Fuck me silly.
“Derevan treat you to usual, Julia.” The rat spoke up in an odd accent whilst keeping eye-contact with their company. It sounded like a mixture between Russian and English.
Definitely a foreigner. Abel thought, watching the hairless rat shake their paws about while talking. Some kind of theatrical performance Barnaby would perform.
The rat turned around to look at the counter, giving Abel an angry expression. With no fur on their body, every wrinkle expressed just how upset they were from his presence alone.
“You. Where dog?” They demanded, whilst sitting on a stool in front of Abel. The calico cat watched in horror, having not moved since entering the bar.
“Uh… I’m filling in for them.” Abel answered, looking at the rat, then giving the calico cat the rest of his attention. They wore a short red dress, barely passing their thighs.
Their fur pattern was a special one, hints of orange splotches around their legs, and one section around their eye. The other eye had a deeper dark fur color, with a lighter shade of the darkness smudged in similarity to the orange.
“Derevan not like this.” The rat said, shaking his head in a slow manner. “Can…” Abel gave the rat a quick glance. “Derevan sit?” He looked back at the red dressed cat.
“Derevan is sitting already.” He gave a toothy grin.
“Is your… uh- friend not Derevan?”
The rat laughed, baring his teeth. “Derevan is Derevan.” He pointed at himself, pressing his claw into his white tank top.
Puzzled, Abel tried to put together what exactly this tourist was trying to tell him, before muttering out a half-baked question. “You’re Derevan?”
“Derevan think you slow.” He said, before tracing the attention of Abel’s eyes to the cat at the door. “Julia, come sit.” He demanded, with how aggressive his voice sounded from the beginning, Abel can’t put together when he’s saying something in a good or bad way.
The calico cat watched the floor, as she slowly made her way by the counter, and sat a stool away from Derevan. “Derevan think Julia is funny.” He said, as he climbed into the next stool, breaking the space between them as he sat beside her.
Oookaaayyy.
Abel noticed Julia give him a slight smile, before Derevan grabs her cheek to force some eye-contact between the two. His claws nearly dug into her eyes, but she seemed relatively emotionless to it.
Speaking of emotion, Derevan’s tail swung about as he held Julia’s cheek. It nearly swatted the register on the counter clear off. “Hey, Derevan, careful there.” Abel said, trying to set some dominance as early as he could.
“What does Derevan need be careful?” He answered, it sounded like a question, but his tone and body language while continuing his focus in Julia left Abel lost in where to go on.
Abel picked out two menus beneath the counter, and put them in-between Julia and Derevan’s faces. Trying to give her a moment away from whatever the rat was trying to do, and to get them to order. The sooner they were out, the better for Abel to relax.
“You name?” Derevan asked, not taking the menu.
“Abel.”
Julia took one of the two menus out of Abel’s light grasp, before Derevan swiped it out of her paw. “Nyet! We get Derevan’s usual.” He commanded, shoving the menu notebook onto the counter in a display of fragile masculinity.
“You have a menu item dedicated to yourself?!” Abel shouted, a little jealous. Barnaby told him many times how they would never base a menu item off someone, and to see them back down on this claim has him fuming.
“Nyet. Give Derevan Derevan’s usual.”
You lost me.
“I’m new, I don’t really… know what you order.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Derevan let out a hard chuckle, sounding like a mixture between a happy child and an insane parent after seeing a bad report card. “Derevan think you REALLY funny.”
“Seriously. I’ve never seen you before.”
Julia shot her head up, giving Abel a concerned frown. He saw it from the corner of his eyes, but didn’t try to react, out of fear for what Derevan would do.
“Derevan wants Derevan’s usual.”
Abel began shaking his head in annoyance, opening the menu Derevan tossed , to find whatever this mysterious menu item he could be referring to was. Page by page, pastry by pastry, frozen meal deep fried by unhealthy beverage, he quickly strummed to the last page, none of the names remotely associated with the foreign rat in front of him.
“Derevan, how about you explain your usual?”
“Nyet.”
Abel groaned loudly. As much as a train horn could. Julia gave him an awkward smile, both in joy of his action, and concern for what’s to come. She put her paws on her lap, trying to keep them enclosed together in a tight hug.
“Okay. Julia. Do you want to tell me Derevan’s usual?”
Derevan’s smug smile grew again, as he looked over at the calico cat. She narrowed her eyes a bit while looking at Derevan, but then widened them in contempt at Abel.
“Any second now.” Abel said, his patience as thin as the sanity of the moment. Some could say the tension in the room could be cut up as thinly as a classroom pizza party.
She opened her mouth, and moved it about, but no words came out. Is she joking with me? And then closed it, shaking her head. Huh?
“Julia no talk.” Derevan said, shaking his head while patting her roughly on the back. She moved a bit, trying to lessen his grasp on her. As she did so, Abel made an interesting observation.
She doesn’t have a tail?
“You know dog?” Derevan asked, a question so easily answered in just the past, that Abel assumed this question was meant to distract him. “Yeah.” He answered bluntly, offering no padding to his sentence, trying to keep the moment for as best as he could.
While this disaster played out, the front door swung open.
“Abe, do you have your phone or not?!” Barnaby’s voice called out, stepping into the room with heated steps. Just about filled with the same rage as their question.
“Wh- huh? What are you doing here? And no, I don’t.”
Julia and Derevan turned over to see the owner of the bar, as well as Kevin shortly entering behind, he closed the door, before turning around to see what was unfolding.
JULIA?!
“Got Kevin dressed. Slipped into something different too.” They answered, performing a walk similar to runway models as they made their way to the couple at the counter.
“Derevan, Julia, lovely seeing you… er… love birds.”
“Derevan wants Derevan’s usual.” He said, not interested in the talk Barnaby was offering. Kevin watched in horror as Julia did the same, the two engaging in a telepathic scream.
“Course, Abe. Make him his usual.” Barnaby complied.
“I. Don’t. Know. His. Usual.” Abel answered through his teeth.
Barnaby knocked on their head like a cartoon character trying to hear how hollow wood was. “Come with me, I’ll explain.”
Barnaby took Abel behind the wall of beads, probably to the kitchen, but Kevin and Julia weren’t focused on that, they were focused on each other.
You’re STILL WITH HIM?!
Julia couldn’t answer his thoughts, but she could tell exactly what he was thinking. Her eyes moved to the left, trying to point to Derevan, while still keeping her head aimed at Kevin.
I’m not sitting with you two!
Kevin read her wrong. What she wanted to say turned into a different innuendo. Fumbling while trying to step back, closer to the front door, Derevan glanced over at him, before saying a joke.
“You cut?”
You’re a dick.
“You cut?”
You fucking suck.
“You cut?”
WHY ARE YOU REPEATING?!
“Cut cut cut.”
Julia kept craning her head between short disapproving nods, as faint as they could appear, both for Kevin to read, and Derevan not to. Her face was as sad as the joke he tried giving, a low frown with her eyebrows as deeply dug into angry lines as they could appear to be.
“You mouth cut.” Derevan finished, rolling his purple eyes, a color so hazed in that you could assume he got some kind of operation for it. Derevan let out a hard cough, clearing his throat.
Kevin and Julia gave each other an awkward smile, as thin and low as they could appear, reading between happy in the moment, and wanting the moment to be over with.
He shook his head around, trying to decipher whether he should come closer, or stand back. Julia noticed his action, and tried to shake her head as little as she could.
Do I come over or not?
“KEVIN!” Barnaby’s voice shouted from the intercom. Nearly piercing into his ears, it seemed to have done the same to Julia and Derevan, as they both covered their assaulted canals.
FUUUUCK!
“GET IN THE KITCHEN!” Barnaby’s voice continued. The intercom made the sound come out as strangled and garbled as it could, making Barnaby sound as if they were being buried beneath rubble in a dark slimy cave.
Realizing the two people he had rather not spend a second near more were distracted by the intercom’s volume, he quickly walked behind the counter, ducking low not to be seen on his knees, and crawled into the wooden hallway.
What do you even want from me?
“You know how to make waffles?” Barnaby asked, faking a wide grin, flashing their mostly canine teeth.
I- Huh? What? You WANT ME TO COOK WAFFLES?!
“Kev, ignore Bee. Come in here.” Abel’s voice called out from the left door of the hallway. The smell of burning toast stuck in Kevin’s nose, he knew something was going on.
Barnaby shook their head. “I’ll keep the weirdos distracted.”
They began walking towards the start of the hallway.
“Glad I ain’t associated with ‘em.” Barnaby’s voice echoed teasingly back inside, before passing through the rainbow stringed rocks.
IhatethemIhatethemIhatethemIhatethemIhatethemIhatethem
Kevin entered the kitchen, repeating the mantra in his mind. Abel was standing by a counter, trying to read some information on a small box.
He looked over at Kevin. “You’re… certainly wearin’ something.” He said, then looking back at the box. He twisted it around, Kevin saw an image of a waffle on it.
“Are you seriously frying waffles?” Kevin asked, without thinking. Abel shot his head over at the white cat. “Looks like it.” Abel answered, his tone between confusion and surprise.
Bewildered, Kevin approached the towering tiger, holding his paw out for him to put the box in. Abel wasn’t quite sure if he was interacting with some odd anomaly of a Kevin, but gave him the frozen waffles box.
Hell’s Barnaby done to you?
Kevin narrowed his eyes, trying to read the small font on the front of the box. “Can’t read it either?” Abel asked. Kevin shook his head, shoving the box closer into his face.
Abel swiped the box out of his grasp. “Oookay, any closer and you need an appointment for glasses.”
I… uh, actually already need glasses.
Abel opened the cold box, and took out three waffles. He put them on the fry basket adjacent to the fridge, a move done so flawlessly that Kevin thought he was some kind of android.
“Barnaby burnt toast while testing a toaster. Turns out it’s a little TOO good.” Abel explained, dropping a bit of information for his friend to take in. That explains the smell.
Abel grabbed the handle of the fry basket, dropping the basket side into frying oil, the sound of sizzling and bubbling began filling the small kitchen, as he looked over to the white cat.
“So… uh. Kev.” He said, trying to start something.
Kevin stood by idly, his arms resting by his sides, to him it was an awkward position, but it was better than looking like a T-rex, or folding them like some stuck-up asshole.
At least, that’s how he thought of it.
“You know those two? I noticed you were being a bit…”
He paused for a moment, looking over at his friend.
“...weirder.”
You weren’t even watching us!
Abel’s light smile turned low. “Kev, you know what I’m gonna say.”
Kevin nodded defeatedly.
“Old friends?”
He shook his head.
Abel put a finger to his chin, the claw nearly digging into his skin. “Not friends… Uh… look, it’s hard asking stuff that could use more than a yes or no. You gotta work with me here.”
I’m trying my best okay!
Trying not to pry into him, Abel turned back to the attention of the fried goods in the oil. Still undone and sizzling as loud as hell fire. He looked back at Kevin from the corner of his eye, the white cat shifting between rubbing his arm, glancing at the doorway, and almost opening his mouth to speak.
Abel’s eyes darted back at the oil, focusing on the waffles he was “making”. As close as the word can get. For what Barnaby calls a bar, almost all of their food is prepared about the same way as a fast-food restaurant. A fact Abel never let out, knowing how provoked the golden retriever would be about it.
“Julia’s my sister.” Kevin said, breaking Abel’s deep thinking. He began stumbling on his words, both ones he wanted to say, and ones in his mind for deeper inspection.
“H- What? You have a sist-”
He turned around, giving the white cat a look up and down.
“You… don’t look related.”
Kevin frowned, as awkward as his smiles. “Well, I’m... uh.”
He stopped talking.
Adopted? Abel thought. Kevin watched the tiger decipher what the last bit of his sentence could’ve been, and he had a strong suspicion Abel had caught on.
He nodded slowly.
“At this point, I’m learning something new about you by the day.” Abel remarked, shaking his head with a dumb smile while trying to compute the addition to his perception on Kevin.
Abel kneeled down on one leg, trying to get eye to eye with Kevin. He asked in a whispery tone, “Why’s she got no tail?” before standing back up and reviewing the waffles in the oil.
Kevin looked back at the hallway with a half-formed smile on the left of his face. His eye curved with it, his face giving the definition of uncertain as an expression.
Well… uh… Basically-
“HELLLOOO WHERE’S THE WAFFLES?” Barnaby’s voice shouted from down the hallway. They quickly appeared by the doorway, brows furrowed and grin sneered.
“Cookin’.” Abel answered, pulling out the fry basket with the three waffles inside. They looked like a sickly golden brown, the kind that looks more melted in an unappealing way. Maybe bad mashed potatoes your mother might’ve made one sick day.
“Great, ‘cus that rat’s on my nerves.” Barnaby jeered. They took out a small silver plate, and grabbed the fry basket handle out of Abel’s hold, spilling the food onto the plate.
“Hold on, you know Derevan and Julia, right?” He asked, trying to get out as much information as his curiosity allowed.
“Only thing I know is how much I hate that rat, and how that cat’s even with him.” Barnaby answered, pulling out a bottle of ketchup from a cabinet, and spilling it lazily on top of the waffles.
“This is Derevan’s usual?” There had to be more than just squeezed tomato and badly made “baked” potato. Abel poked the ketchup bottle once Barnaby set it down on the counter by the fridge, it fell over, nearly empty.
“Yup. Kevin, let me just say that was a shit job at making these waffles. Love it. Seriously, I’m glad they’re bad.” Barnaby went on, starting from answering Abel’s question to whatever brigade they were on with Derevan’s existence and Kevin’s compliance.
“Bee, I fried them.” Abel said, stealing what little positive credit Kevin could’ve gotten from the judgemental canine. “Oh.” Barnaby laughed. “Aren’t you like, a cooking vlogger?”
“I haven’t done that in literal years, what are you on about?”
“I’m forgettin’ more by the day. Tell me your name tomorrow.”
Wait, if you cook stuff, why did you two need me?
“Anyway. I’m giving this to the disasters. You two have your makeout or whatever, just be out in a minute.” Barnaby said, grabbing the plate, and walking out into the hallway.
Kevin gave Abel a confused look.
“I just wanted to talk a bit. You probably realized the waffle thing was a lie. Better that than getting Bee up my ass.”
Abel rubbed his eyes, a bit tired. “Look, uh… I just hope you and her are on good terms. Tail thing is probably personal.”
It’s a long one.
“So, counter time?” Abel asked, leaning his back onto the doorway as he waited for Kevin to make his decision. His Hawaiin shirt nearly got stuck by a nail sticking out.
“Okay.” Kevin answered, passing through the door, and nearly brushing Abel’s chest. The two walked through the hallway, emerging to the counter, where Derevan was forcefully trying to feed Julia bits of the ketchup soaked badly-fried waffles.
“Do this.” He said, opening his mouth wide, his pale tongue sticking out like a sore thumb. “Open mouth.” He said, trying to shove the waffle into Julia’s face. She had her mouth as zipped as could be, a straight narrow line. The kind of face you’d see when someone had enough of your bullshit.
Kevin mimicked Julia’s expression, shaking his head as lightly as he could for her to see between her shut eyes. Barnaby noticed the two coming out, and slid beside them.
“Have I said I hate them?” They whispered, watching Derevan continue his attempt at airplane feeding his “lover”. Abel blew a short bit of air in their face to get some space. Barnaby groaned, the terrible hot air and smell from his teeth staining their nasal readings.
“Fuck you!” They said between fanning at their nose. Abel chuckled in a low tone, almost out of breath.
After collecting himself, Abel asked a question.
“Why are you two back here?”
Barnaby shot him a look, grinning. They leaned closer to the tiger’s ears, and whispered, “I got Kevin to talk twice.”
Abel copied Barnaby’s look, minus the grin. He whispered back, “What? You two barely met.”
“Sounds like I’m speciaaaal.” They teased, raising their voice a bit. Derevan gave the three people behind the counter an annoyed grimace, before focusing on Julia again.
What are you two talking about?
Kevin turned his attention to Barnaby and Abel, who quickly looked back at him. “Anyway, that’s all we’re here for. I’m probably gonna take Kevin out to Misty Meadows or something. What’s the time?”
“You go to meadows?” Derevan asked, turning his attention back to the trio. The soggy waffle in his grasp limped down as Julia leaned away from it.
“Yup.” Barnaby answered, putting their arm on their hip. They instinctively checked their wrist for the time, but didn’t have a watch on. “You don’t even have a watch, Bee.” Abel said, watching them.
“The TIME my good sir.” Barnaby sneered, looking at the broken clock behind them. It was a standard analog clock, the hour hand stuck on two, and the minute on thirty-eight.
“It’s already two?!” They shouted. Abel and Kevin nearly rolled back from the sudden change in aggression. Julia put her paws on her ears, the sudden shout unexpected.
Kevin and Abel began walking out of the counter, the duo stood by the edge of the room, right beneath the camera. Derevan gave them a skeptical look, and then a hard smile at Barnaby.
“Derevan and Julia come.” He commanded, standing up from the stool. His baggy gray jeans nearly looped with the handle of the seat. Julia quickly stood up as Derevan finished his sentence.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Barnaby said, trying to get out of the bar as quickly as they could. They grabbed Kevin’s arm, and walked towards the doorway.
HEY!
Julia watched the manhandling, her face reading between worry and joy when they exchanged looks as he was dragged.
“Don’t wait up. And Abe, that’s already two.”
Barnaby opened the door, tossed Kevin out, and left, shutting it in a brutish fashion. A bit of dust flew in the air from the sudden gasp of wind. Abel shook his head, paw over his temples.
“Derevan tell you death is inevitable, cat.”
He dragged Julia out, holding her paw in a tight hold as they left the bar. The door shut hard and still, a crack forming in the bottom left of it.
“What the actual fuck?” Abel said, trying to make sense of everything that just happened within a single minute of time.
He shook his head, and stood behind the counter again.