° Chapter One °

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The cafe was rather busy that day, many customers sitting at tables and chatting away with friends or doing independent work on laptops for school or some other thing like a job. The barista was a handsome and tall gentleman with a head full of green hair, which tapered to peach fuzz on the left side of his head. He was happily serving customers with a smile on his face, though he avoided showing his teeth in fear of making someone uncomfortable with their sharpness or predatory appearance.

You see, this barista, Sam, was a hybrid. He was half creeper and half human, having traits of both and traits of neither, all at the same time. Creepers naturally were more hostile, so he always had a dull and mind numbing anger bubbling up within him, awaiting the right moment to strike. Sam knew this, of course, so he kept it under control while working at the cafe, which was easy enough for him.

But when night fell, he was no longer the kind and caring man the patrons of the cafe knew, he was someone else, someone different, someone terrifying.

During the night time hours, Sam worked as a bouncer for the local strip club, which gave him good pay and sometimes an excuse to exert the built up anger within him. If anyone harassed the entertainers or guests and couldn't take a hint, Sam was sent in to deal with them, normally leaving behind a broken and bloody mess. Unless the trouble maker complied, of course.

Sam didn't actively seek fights though, he did his job as any bouncer should, fair and just, only taking extreme action if needed. Tonight was one of those nights, as someone was harassing his adopted son, Tommy, the bartender for the strip club.

Now, the bar is positioned across from the DJ booth, both are situated in a way to block the view of the stage so no workers saw anything they didn't want to. So, Sam quietly approached the bar, towering over nearly everyone in the crowd. Once he reached the man causing the trouble, he stood behind them, looking down at them due to their inferior height.

"Excuse me, sir. I believe the bartender has had enough of your harassment. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, and if you don't, then I will have to use unnecessary force." Sam's tone was calm, yet loud enough for the man to hear. The man, clearly drunk, twirled around on his foot, looking up at Sam,

"Bu'sir, I was jus' havin' a talk wi' him! I ain' botherin' no one!" The man slurred, a drunken smile playing on his face.

Sam glared at the man, "You're clearly making him uncomfortable, and I would know." He paused momentarily, studying the drunken man's face, "As he's my coworker, and it's my job to keep them safe." Sam put slight emphasis on the word 'coworker', to hopefully get the point across.

"Well sir, yer coworker is'pretty hanssome if-I-do say so m'self. Woul' make a great new-" The man was cut off by Sam grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off of the ground with one, iron-gripped, fist.

Sam glared into the eyes of the man, his gaze boring into the man's soul, "If you ever put your hands on him- or anyone here- I will personally hunt you down and make sure you regret everything you've ever done. I will beat you into so much of a pulp that your spine will be coming out of your mouth and you will be so unrecognizable, you'll be considered badly mangled roadkill- or worse-" he pulled the man closer so he could whisper in his ear, "I could slice your tendons and throw you to the pigs, allowing them to feast on you while you're still alive, squirming and screaming for help. But of course, no one will hear you."

The drunken man seemingly sobered up in an instant and was trying to get out of Sam's grip to escape. Instead of letting him leave on his own accord, Sam carried the man to the door and put him outside, "Don't come back if you know what's good for you." The man ran off quickly, slipping a few times on the little snow that barely covered the ground.

After watching the man leave, Sam huffed, putting a palm to his face in disappointment and irritation.

"I like how you handled that guy." A soft voice said, causing Sam to snap back to reality and look towards who had spoken. A darker skinned, short male, who was adorned in a stereotypical cowboy outfit stood beside him, holding onto his hat. Sam looked him up and down momentarily, before remembering he had to reply,

"Oh, uh, thanks... I can't stand people like that, especially if they're targeting Toms." The smaller male chuckled, "You're too serious sometimes, Sammy."

Sam smiled slightly, "You know it's my job to do that, Ponk... You just know how to make me relax a bit..."

The two stood by the door together for a while, having a small conversation before Ponk had to go back to the stage.

Ponk was the only "PG" stripper at the club. He refused to take off anything below the belt, so he only removed his hat, flannel, and shirt, which surprisingly was very popular with the customers. Ponk was the only entertainer there who didn't stalk around, trying to get a rise out of some guests, he simply didn't do anything suggestive.

Sam and Ponk had become friends a while ago, running into each other multiple times when patrons would act up and harass the smaller male. Sam didn't understand why anyone would try to grope, grind on, or kiss any of the entertainers. It's not like he didn't find any of them attractive, it was just common decency to not do those things.

But maybe things have changed, and that's just how the world works now. But no matter what, Sam would always stop those people and kick them out of the club, his coworkers deserve to be respected.

Incident at the Club ☆ AweSamPonk ☆Where stories live. Discover now