Just the Coffee Boy. Promise.

The Street that Doesn't Belong

Tommy woke with a start, panting heavily and eyes crazed.

His clammy hands grasped at the few blankets he had. A small drizzle rained from the clouds above. He shivered and pulled the blankets closer pushing himself farther into the corner of the alleyway.

His ears pressed against his head, and involuntary whimpers left him.

The day was dark and dreary much like his mood. He will be an angsty raccoon boy today. Thankfully, he still had his work at Puffy's to look forward to.

Tommy pulled himself together and dusted off what mud he could.

Emerging from the alleyway, Tommy turned left and pulled his hood up.

Puddles interrupted his gait, but he just walked through them, bad days always led to this type of hardship.

Especially after what happened in Snowchester.

He'd been homeless for a good three months now, watching the news replay the explosion of his home over and over. It didn't matter now though.

A little jingle of the door to Puffy's Garage and Repair interrupted his thoughts. Warmth folded over his body and Puffy emerged from the garage with a warm smile.

"Hey kid, you ready to get to work? I've got something special for you to do today."

Tommy returned the smile, "Yeah I'm ready whaddya got for me?"

Puffy turned and beckoned Tommy to the garage. Inside stood a middle aged man in a green robe looking especially anxious.

"Tommy, this is Phil, an old friend of mine." She leaned closer to him and whispered, "be nice."

Tommy scoffed and continued to analyze the man before him.

"And this is Tommy, my best, and favorite mind you, engineer/mechanic/cleaner/inventor."

Tommy turned to Puffy and gently bumped her, "I am your only employee Puffy."

"Still my favorite!" She said smiling and ruffling his hair, he retaliated with a smack.

Tommy sighed, "Whatcha got for me big man?"

Phil pointed at an extremely beat up white van.

He narrowed his eyes, "are you trying to kidnap me Phil? That would not be poggers."

"Tommy!" Puffy exclaimed before mentally giving up. She wished him luck and left him to work with the old dude there.

"She is just asking for me to get kidnapped," he mumbled.

The man shook his head, "I'm not gonna kidnap you mate, the car can't even drive."

Tommy looked from the man to the non-functioning car and back to the man.

"Are you sure you shouldn't just scrap her? You look like you could afford a really nice kidnapping vehicle." Tommy tapped his chin and jumped up to grab the jack.

"Nah mate, this is my pride and joy. You're actually the only shop in the L'Manburg area that would take 'er in and that's only because Puffy owes me a favor from way back."

Tommy started to peel off the absolutely atrocious tire, "You talk a lot. And I talk a lot, but me saying that you talk a lot is a lot from me."

"What?" Phil chuckled and sat on a nearby bucket.

"You heard me-" A loud thump hit the floor and Phil rushed over, only to see Tommy hefting it into a bin and wiping his hands on jeans that were clinging to life, "you, talk a lot."

Tommy ignored the man's concerned hovering and continued to grab a tire and refit it onto the axle. He paused.

This wasn't right.

He knew this man. He knew this man personally at one point.

"Phil?"

The man stopped his incessant chatter, "hm?"

"Do you own a striped green and white bucket hat that your sons bought at the book fair about 8-10 years ago?"

The man laughed for a moment before furrowing his brows, "Yea know I might actually, I think it's in a storage bin in the attic actually. Didn't have the heart to throw it out."

Tommy stood abruptly and patted his back and his head.

No ears.

No tail.

What the fuck.

Was he even supposed to have those? He felt like he had had them at one point but it would be weird. He didn't want to be a fuckin furry or some shit.

"Tommy?" Phil reached out and touched his shoulder, "You good mate?"

Tommy slapped Phils hand away, all playful demeanor lost.

"This isn't right."

"What do you mean Toms?"

"No no no. You don't get to call me that." Tommy backed up to the door and raced to his alleyway.

But where was his alleyway?

Tommy spun around, once, twice, a third time. There wasn't even an alley on this street.

But there had to be. That's where it was. That's where it belonged.

"I should've known you'd catch on eventually. I'm surprised you lasted this long, honestly you should just die already."

Tommy spun for a fourth time and came face to face with a blonde man in a green hoodie.

"You heard me. Die."

Tommy gasped awake.

He was in his apartment. With the ragged moth-eaten blankets and a roof that was barely covering his head.

"What the hell was that?"