Malignant Virtues

I

Taz had been between jobs longer than he cared to admit, and the total in his savings account was dwindling faster than he liked to think, but as he swung himself up onto a barstool, he tried to count the positives. It was still early enough that the bar wasn't crowded; one. Happy hour prices had already started; two. He'd turned in more than a dozen job applications; three. He'd spent the entire day with his new neighbor, and her brother was nowhere in sight; four and five.

His neighbor grazed his elbow with her own as she settled onto the barstool beside him, and he shot her a sideways glance, a smile twisting one corner of his mouth. She was a pretty young thing with crimson skin and golden eyes, all curves and long legs, with an easy smile and a quick laugh - six - and, perhaps most importantly, she was single; lucky number seven.

He turned his eyes away from her to scan down the draft list the bartender had given him, and his smile faltered as he caught sight of the price of his favorite craft beer, even with the happy hour special. He frowned and tugged on the end of a long, blue ear as he considered his alternatives while beside him, his neighbor ordered an eight-dollar glass of wine from the bartender. He settled for a two-dollar domestic, and the bartender walked away to get their drinks.

"Thanks again for coming with me on my job hunt, Gretta," he said after the bartender had left.

"Yeah, of course," she said. "It was nice getting to hang out with you. Without my brother hovering around, I mean." She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I don't think a guy your brother's size really hovers so much as looms. He's a little intimidating, honestly." The bartender returned with their drinks, and the blue daemon handed over his debit card, trying not to imagine his wallet screaming as he slipped it back into his pocket. "Leave it open. She's with me," he added as an afterthought, ignoring the card Gretta was trying to pass to him as he slid her glass of wine toward her. He raised his drink in a brief toast to her as the bartender walked away again. "Anyway, hopefully something good comes out of today."

"I'm sure something will," Gretta said, tucking her own debit card back into her wallet. She inspected the glass of wine in front of her for a moment before fishing out a fragment of cork with her finger and giving the drink another critical look. Satisfied that the drink was free of debris, she raised the glass to return the toast and took a cautious sip. She grimaced and set the wine glass back on the bar. "How many applications did you turn in today? Twelve?"

"Fifteen," he corrected.

"Fifteen," she repeated. "Well, nothing to do now but wait, right?" She twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers to turn the glass around, frowning at what looked suspiciously like a lipstick stain that wasn't hers on the rim. "So," she said, turning back to Taz. "I never asked. What exactly brought you into town, if you didn't have a job?"

"Just wanted a change of scenery," he said, shrugging. "Make a fresh start."

"Didn't feel bad about leaving everyone behind? Friends? Family?"

He shrugged. "Moved away for college, then all my friends moved back home after graduation, but I wanted to try something a little different, I guess. It was nice having the freedom to do what I wanted when I wanted without someone always checking in on me, you know?"

"I understand that," Gretta said, taking another sip of wine. "I'd get out of my brother's place today if I could."

"Yeah, he's... a little intimidating. You said he..." Taz frowned, trying to remember. "Wrestles?"

"Boxes. Only in the ring, though," she amended. "He doesn't just go around hitting people on the reg. Except my ex-boyfriends." She laughed at some private joke, but the laugh died quickly when Taz didn't join in.

"Well, I'll make a point to never be one of your exes," Taz said.

A beat passed between them, and Gretta gave another short, rather forced laugh before busying herself with her wine glass as Taz took a long swig of his beer, draining half of it. Coughing, he set his beer back down on the bar and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glancing around for another topic of conversation. His grey eyes landed on the banner hanging above a microphone that had been unceremoniously shoved into the corner of the lounge under a makeshift spotlight. "It's open mic night," he said.

Gretta cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "You sing?"

"No," he admitted, "but I happen to be a master comedian. Check this out." He drained the remaining half of his beer and flagged down the bartender for another one before giving Gretta another huge grin, and darting over to the microphone before she could open her mouth to stop him, fresh beer in hand. "Hello?" he said. "Is this thing on?"

Gretta glanced around at the handful of people seated around her at the bar, none of whom had bothered to even glance up at the skinny blue daemon speaking into the mic. She picked up her glass of wine and made her way to one of the leather armchairs closer to the stage, setting her wine glass on the low table in front of her, tucking some of her short red hair behind a pointed ear.

Taz gave her a large wink and a brief wave before tapping the microphone several times, wincing at the shrieking feedback. A few of the bar patrons turned to frown at him. "So - you guys have heard of Murphy's Law?" he asked, ignoring the dirty looks from his audience as they rubbed at their ears. "You know, whatever can go wrong will go wrong, at the worst possible moment?" He waited, and was met with silence.

"Yes!" Gretta called up, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Well, have you ever heard of Cole's Law?" he asked. He waited for Gretta to shout "no!" back to him, and then began the explanation: "Cole's Law? You know, a salad made from shredded cabbage, carrots, mayonnaise..."

For her part, Gretta laughed loudly from her seat, and a man sitting at the bar gave a low chuckle, turning halfway around on his barstool to glance at Taz over his shoulder. Taz grinned again and dove into the rest of his feeble comedy routine, gradually drawing a handful of onlookers that winced or groaned at most of his jokes, but managing to elicit the occasional chuckle. Gretta laughed at the worst of his jokes, and groaned along with the rest of his audience right up until the final pun, and even gave him a standing ovation.

She was still laughing by the time they'd made their way back up to the bar, the disgruntled bartender setting another round in front of them. "It was good," she said. "Really. I don't remember the last time I laughed that hard."

"You aren't just saying that?" Taz asked, eyeing her suspiciously over his beer.

"Okay," she admitted, "I am just saying that. You probably shouldn't quit your day job."

"I don't have a day job. That was kind of the whole point of today."

She swirled her wine and smiled down at her glass. "Well, comedy isn't your calling, that's for sure."

Taz adopted a look of mock-hurt, frowning at her. "If you're going to be mean, at least buy me a drink first."

Gretta laughed again. "It's a deal." She smiled down at her wine glass again before shooting him a sideways glance. "I, uh, actually know a pretty sweet bar back in Demos, if you're about ready to head back towards home."

Taz raised his glass and drained the last of his beer. "If there's a free drink involved," he said, once he'd set the glass back down onto the bar, "I was born ready."