The pregnant woman turns with a force strong enough to knock her glasses from the top of her head back down to the front of her face. She tries to stare disapprovingly at the young woman, but latter doesn't lift her head.
"... bitch," the pregnant woman says to no one. After taking a sip from her glass, she takes the glasses off completely and drops them on the bar. There's a pain in her stomach as the baby kicks, but realizing that the rest of the bar is probably looking at her for calling someone a bitch, she stifles the urge to jump and rub her belly, and instead tries to take another sip. It's not until she nearly has the glass at her mouth that she notices it's empty. She takes a look over her shoulder at no one in particular, to make sure no one is watching. Without looking at the bar, she pulls an unlabeled bottle out and fills her glass.
The old man next to her continues to eat peanuts using his Halloween toy as his hand. Because of the stiff plastic fingers on the hand, he holds the peanut baggie right below his face. Over the top of it he gives her a very mixed look. There are elements of concern, scorn, confusion, lewdness, and more.
She works up her most hostile stare, and makes what she hopes is a scornful snort. It sounds a little like a stifled sneeze. He slowly opens his mouth and asks...
A) What'cha drinkin'?
B) Pour me one?
C) That for you or the thing in your belly?
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Prelude
Upon entering the Chupacabra Cafe, the first thing a patron sees is the following graffiti, written on the lowered ceiling in excellent penmanship; "Shit... this was supposed to be the future..." Another message, written in fine, sixth grade cursive on the door, reads, "Madness is the emergency exit." This one becomes visible on exiting. Both messages were written long ago by people who no longer come to the cafe.
There are no windows in the cafe's main room, making it appear more like a bar. And in fact, it is a bar. The gourmet coffee is only a distraction to the current patrons. The scones sitting in the bottle next to the cash register went stale back when people thought Adam Sandler was funny.
Few patrons still frequent the cafe daily. The pregnant woman stares up at the bottles on the bar, sipping her colorless drink. Scratching at the protrusions on the top of her head, she tries to ignores the old man as he picks up a long plastic device from where it is leaning against his bar stool. Clearly the relic of some Halloween long past, it's a plastic witch's claw on a stick. He extends the device across the bar and leaning forward, and pushes a lever. The claw opens up, and closes again on a baggie of bar peanuts. The metal tree from which the peanut packets hang clearly does not wish to be separated from it's prepackaged fruit. It sways and shakes as the old man jerks the arm in various direction. After a lengthy semaphoric struggle, the peanuts are finally obtained.
In the corner, a tall man with grayish skin rubs his shoulder an moans quietly. Through the corner of his eyes, he steals glances at the others. He pays particular attention to the man at sitting at the head of a pool table. He's known as, THE KING! THE KING! sits proudly at the table, a goblet in hand. His scepter is kept sheathed in a corner pocket. While he thinks all eyes are on him at all times, he's mostly ignored these days. He considers himself a benevolent king even though the others consider him an annoying, little man.
The jukebox in back plays only two songs, the other records scratched and worn. Track 152 is, 'John the Baptist', by The Afghan Whigs. Track 415 is, 'Scatman' by Scatman John. The paint on keys 1, 2, and 5 wore off months ago. The lettering on key 4 is still clearly visible.
There's a ceiling fan hanging in the middle of the room, lit with dim, dying bulbs. There are lamps on the walls around the cafe, each with a bulb of a different color. Above the mirror behind the bar hangs a yellow light. Next to the free, skunky coffee machine is a red light.
Back in the corner, sitting under the only lamp in the cafe that's unlit, is a pale, young woman. She sits hugging her legs to her chest, and doesn't make a sound. The others tend to forget she's even there. Occasionally, when the bar falls silent, she startles everyone with a loud sniff. When they take a look over, she's as still as ever; her eyes staring at the middle of the table. If it weren't for the slight movements she makes with each breath, it'd be hard to tell she was alive.
There's only one bathroom way in the back of the cafe, and it has a claw foot tub in addition to the urinal and stalls. There may or may not be things stored in the tub. There's a frosted glass window, but it's both nailed and painted shut, as well as locked. On the wall near the windowsill, there's more graffiti, this time in flowing cursive. But the entire phrase is listing to the left and downwards, as if the person writing it were sinking as they wrote. "¿por qué no se ajuste a través de la ventana?"
Going past the bathroom, in the very back, there's an elevator door where one would expect to see a fire exit leading to the alley behind Chupacabra Cafe. At least, that's what it's assumed to be. Looking very much like the sliding metal doors leading to an elevator shaft, no one's seen it open before, and there are no buttons to operate it. Not to mention that it would theoretically open right into the alley, where there is no elevator nor elevator shaft. Every now and then, there's a bang on the door. Everyone ignores it as someone slipping in the alley or mistaking the back door as the front.
The jukebox has been silent for some time now. Almost as if on cue, the young, pale girl in the corner sniffs loudly...
_______ is shocked out of their thoughts and back into reality.
A) The pregnant woman
B) The old man
C) THE KING!
D) The gray skinned man
E) The young, pale woman
There are no windows in the cafe's main room, making it appear more like a bar. And in fact, it is a bar. The gourmet coffee is only a distraction to the current patrons. The scones sitting in the bottle next to the cash register went stale back when people thought Adam Sandler was funny.
Few patrons still frequent the cafe daily. The pregnant woman stares up at the bottles on the bar, sipping her colorless drink. Scratching at the protrusions on the top of her head, she tries to ignores the old man as he picks up a long plastic device from where it is leaning against his bar stool. Clearly the relic of some Halloween long past, it's a plastic witch's claw on a stick. He extends the device across the bar and leaning forward, and pushes a lever. The claw opens up, and closes again on a baggie of bar peanuts. The metal tree from which the peanut packets hang clearly does not wish to be separated from it's prepackaged fruit. It sways and shakes as the old man jerks the arm in various direction. After a lengthy semaphoric struggle, the peanuts are finally obtained.
In the corner, a tall man with grayish skin rubs his shoulder an moans quietly. Through the corner of his eyes, he steals glances at the others. He pays particular attention to the man at sitting at the head of a pool table. He's known as, THE KING! THE KING! sits proudly at the table, a goblet in hand. His scepter is kept sheathed in a corner pocket. While he thinks all eyes are on him at all times, he's mostly ignored these days. He considers himself a benevolent king even though the others consider him an annoying, little man.
The jukebox in back plays only two songs, the other records scratched and worn. Track 152 is, 'John the Baptist', by The Afghan Whigs. Track 415 is, 'Scatman' by Scatman John. The paint on keys 1, 2, and 5 wore off months ago. The lettering on key 4 is still clearly visible.
There's a ceiling fan hanging in the middle of the room, lit with dim, dying bulbs. There are lamps on the walls around the cafe, each with a bulb of a different color. Above the mirror behind the bar hangs a yellow light. Next to the free, skunky coffee machine is a red light.
Back in the corner, sitting under the only lamp in the cafe that's unlit, is a pale, young woman. She sits hugging her legs to her chest, and doesn't make a sound. The others tend to forget she's even there. Occasionally, when the bar falls silent, she startles everyone with a loud sniff. When they take a look over, she's as still as ever; her eyes staring at the middle of the table. If it weren't for the slight movements she makes with each breath, it'd be hard to tell she was alive.
There's only one bathroom way in the back of the cafe, and it has a claw foot tub in addition to the urinal and stalls. There may or may not be things stored in the tub. There's a frosted glass window, but it's both nailed and painted shut, as well as locked. On the wall near the windowsill, there's more graffiti, this time in flowing cursive. But the entire phrase is listing to the left and downwards, as if the person writing it were sinking as they wrote. "¿por qué no se ajuste a través de la ventana?"
Going past the bathroom, in the very back, there's an elevator door where one would expect to see a fire exit leading to the alley behind Chupacabra Cafe. At least, that's what it's assumed to be. Looking very much like the sliding metal doors leading to an elevator shaft, no one's seen it open before, and there are no buttons to operate it. Not to mention that it would theoretically open right into the alley, where there is no elevator nor elevator shaft. Every now and then, there's a bang on the door. Everyone ignores it as someone slipping in the alley or mistaking the back door as the front.
The jukebox has been silent for some time now. Almost as if on cue, the young, pale girl in the corner sniffs loudly...
_______ is shocked out of their thoughts and back into reality.
A) The pregnant woman
B) The old man
C) THE KING!
D) The gray skinned man
E) The young, pale woman
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