Posted by I, like, write stuff every now and then. And...yeah. on April 15, 2001 at 15:48:52:
the Bean and Donut Coffee Bar.
Sarah Shepherdson's having the usual day. The guy on Table 7 tried to feel her up, but strangely ended up feeling up the wall instead. Literally. Apparently, through some strange coincidence, he became molecularly bonded with the wall.
Her boss didn't quite take to the idea so well, but through some kind of coincidence, an anvil dropped from the table they were standing by and turned her boss' foot into something resembling an ameoba.
Her day didn't really improve when she had to deliver coffee to the schmuck in the corner. Long, bekempt, apparently unwashed brown hair (she called him Mop Face in her deepest of thoughts), and it looked like he never shaved, either. The beard looked something like a Vietnamese jungle.
"Anything I can do for you? Like, say, the number of a good stylist?"
"Coffee. Now."
"I hear personalities are on sale just around the block. Sell 'em five for a pound at that psychiatrist's store just over there."
"And make it black."
"Wit like that, it's hard to see why you're still single."
Walking away to take the walking hairball's order, she bumped into some short guy walking over to sit by him.
"You know him? What is he, a Jerry Garcia wannabe?"
"Wasn't Garcia more about peace?"
"So you do know him. What's his excuse...did his parents microwave him when he was born or something?"
"I'm sure I can't comment at this time. Just give me a milk, fettucini, and cookies."
The little guy had big glasses, brown hair, and looked something like a giant head on stilt legs.
Sarah refused to watch the guy sit down. She just didn't care to know. Sighing, she gave the order to her cook. "Men. They're either weird, rude, or stupid."
Her cook smiled, but knew better than to say anything.
Which was good, because the little guy was busy hiding under the table from some bizarre young woman in a silver outfit who was rather tiny herself.
"You really ought not to cause such a scene. You'll scuff your pants."
"You really need to leave me alone."
The hairball apparently spoke, or something brushed past his lips. "Open season on fools again..."
The short guy sat back down. "Yeah, yeah... I just never have been that great with women..."
The blonde in the silver commented, "Um...I AM a girl..."
The hairball's look told the guy who was standing near his bike that it'd be a good idea not to do that. "Yeah... and I want my coffee."
The short guy snorted. "Um... Why did we come here again?"
The blonde answered, "Because I 'emphatically' ordered you to? You need to get out of your cave more often?"
Sarah placed the coffee in front of the Cro Magnon 2001 award winner, gave Danny Devito's uglier looking twin his fettucini and milk, and gaped at Christina Aguilera's younger sister.
"You Aguileras have a really weird fashion sense", Sarah said.
The blonde replied, "What is an Aguilera? They are uncommon on my planet."
The hairball snorted between gulps of coffee, "Wish they were more uncommon on mine. You can have 'em."
The short guy laughed. "And take the politicians with you."
Sarah took a couple of cautious steps towards the hairball. "He displayed wit. Oh, be still my beating heart. I may have a coronary."
And as these kinds of stories go, something mildly untoward had to happen. For our purposes, we'll consider a biker gang taking offense at a long haired guy drinking coffee with a couple of weird looking short people in a somewhat respectable looking coffee shop as being untoward. Especially when one of them touched his bike.
"Fancy ourselves as something of stupidity artists, do we?" The hairball looked something like a flying mop as he raced outside, throwing his hot coffee into their faces and proceeding to beat them in various places with his golf club. Which was apparently speaking in different languages, but most people swore that what they actually heard was reverberations of sound coming from the impact of the golf club on human bone and meat.
Sarah yelled, "Hey! Where's my tip?"
The short guy muttered, "Um, leave Parodiopolis immediately. That good enough?", and though he disappeared right after that, the appearance of a 40 foot tall dragon had nothing to do with anything. Even though the dragon's breath smelled oddly like fettucini. Odd, that.
And the blonde also appeared to vanish, though that was more due to her outfit.