Three Day Cafe

Episode 2. Dropping Intros to the Beat

The intrepid foursome made their way to the front of the cafe. As expected, it was suddenly and completely devoid of life. Half-finished plates of food, empty water glasses, and drained cups of tea and coffee sat on tables, like the remnants of a great party. Even the customers' personal belongings, like purses, bags, and a couple swords and knives, had vanished.

"At least most of them paid," Razel commented.

Formaggio peered mournfully at the partially eaten remains of a fish filet and veggie plate. "Oh-a, such a shame," he sighed.

"Alright gang, you know the drill." Razel cautiously walked out of the cafe, pulling her knife from her belt. The other three followed after her. Formaggio tucked a meat cleaver and a butcher knife to his apron. Like any self-respecting cook, he kept his chef hat on. Oni retrieved her huge black sword from the floor and strapped it to her back, being extra careful to squeeze through the door. Nathan, considering himself too uncool to hold a weapon, merely turned off the lights as he exited.

Outside, a series of shiny, metallic towers and billboards rose up all around to meet them. Purple and blue lights flashed intensely from the buildings, casting a glow over the dark city streets. Traffic lights stood sentinel across several gleaming silver walkways, interspersed with intersections and signs on gray metal poles. A large, angular blue vehicle without wheels zoomed past the group. It had dark windows and was floating in the air.

"Is that a hovercar?" Nathan asked in surprise.

"Nice. Reminds me of home," Razel muttered.

"Doesn't look like a tower," Formaggio said.

"I mean my old kingdom, dumba**."

Razel peered at the colorful letters flashing from nearby ads. It was in an unfamiliar language. "We're not there, though. Uh..."

Razel spotted a white poster tacked on the wall of a nearby building. She pointed her knife at it. "At least we're in familiar territory."

The paper had large, typed, cold black letters saying, "WANTED," followed by a dollar amount with a ludicrous amount of zeroes, a phone number, and a photo. The photo was a fairly clear picture of Oni's face. "Oni Dragon," some text said below. Oni's name was as stupid as her face. In Razel's opinion.

"What the h*** did you do?" Razel asked the dragon for probably the tenth time.

"Oni...Oni was framed! Oni is a good dragon!" she protested weakly, waving her arms.

"Bulls***," the other three said in unison, which made her nervous.

"That many galaxies couldn't all have the wrong idea," Razel said, glaring at Oni. "Some police and detective forces are fairly competent."

"You had a messenger of a god coming after you!" Formaggio yelled at Oni accusingly. "A f***ing god!"

"The price might go up," Nathan added glumly. "Our last stop upped the body count."

"What are you—" At this moment Razel realized the tomato sauce had not been tomato sauce. "Godd*** it, Oni."

"Disguise," she told the other three. Nathan immediately took off his hat and put it on Oni's head.

"Oni is now disguised!" the dragon exclaimed.

"Hm...looks good," Formaggio said, trying to peek at her face under the brim of the hat, then pinching his thumb and forefinger together in a sign of approval.

Nathan nodded and ran a hand absentmindedly through his shock of short black hair, trying to smooth it as his brown eyes gazed at Oni.

Razel facepalmed. "You're all idiots."