TK Special #7 - Return to the M'Verse: An Ooorah Anthology

About a Dog - by @DavidGibbs6

About a Dog

by DavidGibbs6

Dave sat at the bar waiting to see a man about a 'dog.' He was early, which was just as well, because he had some preparation to do. Already the narwhal horn, wrapped and hidden under his pants leg was starting to itch. He had dressed the part, in well worn, loose fitting attire, now all he had to do was get into the mood. The group of toadies in the corner was making it hard, as they mouth breathed each other's bullshit opinions back and forth, sitting not socially distanced. They were the worst kind too, unimaginative, anti-intellectual, but with all the confidence of ignorance up the wazoo. Hypocrites of the highest order, always up in someone else's business while turning a blind eye to the brethren. Organized religion was the depths of depravity, and not the fun kind.

"I'll have the special." Dave spoke inconspicuously, dropping the correct coinage and four coloured stones onto the serving board.

The bartender pulled it towards him, raised an eyebrow but took the currency before laying out two pills, a shot glass with a creamy liquid and a leaf onto the board before shunting it back.

Dave put the pills on the back of his tongue, took the warm shot and chewed the leaf as a finisher. It slid surprisingly easily down his throat.

"All of it." He whispered, beckoning with a hand.

The bartender pushed on the bar and a small drawer popped into Dave's lap with an inhaler. He took it from its place and discreetly tucked his head into his jacket, inhaled deeply a couple of times before returning it, and sliding the drawer closed again.

He held it in a little longer than he should have, and everyone looked in his direction when he coughed. Especially the religious zealots.

The special had the required effect for now, in that Dave was looking sketchy as hell. He staggered from the stool, and had to straighten himself up like a flower, reaching for that first bit of morning sun, before lurching forward to the end booth and sliding across the seat like a block of butter in a hot pan to wait for his man.

He was just starting to enjoy the feeling when an equally dodgy looking guy slid in next to him with a large, sticky drink. Dave knew it was sticky because the man spilled it across the table and then attempted to wipe it with a sleeve and got stuck. His cooler companion, who sat opposite, wasn't so clumsy or jovial and it was really spoiling the aesthetic. Dave was too high to care.

"Hey, friend. We are just having a few after the Borslinging match. Did you watch the games?"

It was the guy alright. Dave scratched his face and kind of lowered his eyes.

"Nah, man nah, it's not my thing ya know I'm like yeah, like." He purposely fumbled, but the high was definitely helping. His mind wanted to take off.

The man sat staring at him with bulging eyes for longer than was necessary. It was supposed to be some kind of scary play, and if he were honest, it might have worked on lesser people. Dave knew what he was doing.

"You know I need the money, and I just want to do this and get out of here. Those religious guys are giving me the creeps."

Dave motioned his head at the wall, knowing they had already sussed the room.

The cool one slid back to the edge and looked about the room nonchalantly.

"You got it then?" The drunk one asked.

"Yeah, for a steal, but..but it wasn't easy."

"Well, I guess we can compensate you for that." He lowered his voice and leant in so Dave could slide the horn across his lap out of sight. "You hang tight with my friend here...I NEED A SLASH." The man bellowed, resuming his drunken facade,before waddling off to the toilets in the back.