On His Own: A Sing Fanfiction

Johnny, Dylan, and The Health Inspector

       Johnny woke up the next morning with a start. His phone was blasting a number from a popular new musical. His watch said it was 8:00. He picked up his phone after a bit, and mumbled irritatedly into the reciever, "Hello?"
       He heard a frantic voice from the other side. "Hey, Johnny, uh, I need your help." Johnny was confused. It was Dylan, the cafe manager, and his boss.
       "Mr. Screwball, isn't it a little early for this?" He might've said more, but he couldn't afford to put his new job in jeopardy.
       "Ye-yeah, but I need you at the cafe, like, now."
       Johnny tried to sound like he wasn't just waking up. He scratched his arm. "What's wrong, sir?"
       "The the the health inspector is coming and and the the place is a mess, and-God, just, Johnny, get over here! I-I promise I'll pay you extra, I just need you here, now!" Johnny gestured as if he was actually talking to somebody, pushing the air lightly with a hand, saying, "Of course, sir, just calm down. I'm on my way." Johnny threw on some clothes, a blue tee and jeans, and ran down and across the street, barely missing one or two morning commuters in the process.
       He burst into the cafe to find it relatively the same as he had the previous day, while the lights were still off. It wasn't really a mess. Its proprietor, however, was.
       "Johnny! Thank God you're here. Kitchen, now!" Johnny didn't say a word, he just vaulted over the bar, running into the kitchen. "Okay, okay." Dylan the rat bounced to a stop on the counter. "Health inspector. He's got a usual here. We gotta get it done. Um... Can you help me? I know you think you're useless with this, but I need this done right now and can't get it done in time by myself 'cuz I got up late and I don't know how I look and ohhhhh..." He stretched his face with his hands, pacing in a small circle. Johnny leaned into the counter, putting his best game face on. "We can't have you breaking down at a time like this." Dylan stopped, looking at Johnny like the gorilla was going to eat him. Johnny realized the rat was scared, and backed up, but tried to keep his steadfast look. "How long have we got?"
       "Twenty minutes."
       Johnny stood up. "Then we've got no time to lose." He clicked on the light in Dylan's ceiling fan. "Pull yourself together. I'll start tidying up and you start on the inspector's dish. If you need my help, just holler." He almost stepped out into the dining area when he noticed Dylan wasn't doing much but standing around, gripping his shirt anxiously. "Dylan!!" Johnny snapped. His dad shone through in him. "Step on it!" Dylan jolted out of his trance, his ears folded back. The gorilla slammed the bar door behind him and snagged the broom from its place in the corner.
       As he flipped on the dining area light and began on the floor, Johnny realized he had just yelled at his superior. He couldn't remember the last time he had yelled at someone. He glanced back at Dylan, who was scrambling around the kitchen, often tripping over himself and yelping as he hit the marble. Johnny looked back at the floor, scanning everything quickly. Though he couldn't say it was perfect, Johnny stepped away from his task before he had even started and tossed the broom back into the corner, jogging into the kitchen and over to his boss.
       "I-I'm sorry! How can I help here?" he asked, trying to keep a level head. I'm about to lose my job, Johnny thought. Dylan glanced at him, then stopped dead and nearly hopped back at the sight of him. I've lost my job already, Johnny figured miserably. They sat like that for a few painstaking seconds before Dylan's breathing slowed and he coughed, straightening his shirt. "U-um. Okay, uh, first, don't you yell at me again!! You're terrifying! I'm the boss here, and if you ever do that again you've got the boot, no matter whose son you are. Got that?"
       "Y-yes, sir, I won't do it again, I swear." Dylan, having gotten his anger and fear settled, then took on his usual demeanor. "Alright, guy. Get me a deep fryer and that electric skillet I showed you yesterday. We're making fried fish and hush puppies." Johnny got right to work.
       The pair was finished three minutes before the health inspector was to arrive. Johnny, without instruction, prepared to clean the tables. Dylan stopped him. "I'll get that. You wash your face and make yourself look presentable. Johnny nodded and stepped into the bathroom. As he flipped on the light, Johnny realized right away his face was red and sweaty from working over the hot skillet and his hair was ruffled with bed head. He laughed at his reflection and turned on the faucet, splashing water onto his face and raking his fingers through his hair. A few minutes later, Johnny was trying to make himself useful by organizing things in one of Dylan's cabinets when the boss ran in. "He's here, Johnny! Get over here!" Johnny did, just as a lion in a suit walked into the cafe.
       The lion scanned around the dining area before writing something on a clipboard. He looked up, right at Johnny, and smiled gently, a smile that put Johnny almost at ease, given the fate that the man could administer upon both him and his boss. The lion walked over to the bar, his steps echoing around the cafe. "Good morning, Mr. Screwball," he finally said, tucking his clipboard under his arm and holding out his free hand. Dylan stepped forward. "Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Crane," he replied firmly, shaking the hand offered to him, and it looked about as awkward as you might expect. "I see you have a new recruit to your staff," the lion noted.
       "Yes, this is Johnny. I actually only hired him the other day. He's learning quickly." Dylan gestured to our gorilla, whose eyes switched between the two men in succession. "Uh, hello, sir," he managed to say to Mr. Crane, who smiled gently again. This time, his smile put Johnny off. "Well, I'll just get started on my examination now," the lion said after a bit. As they waited, Johnny and Dylan exchanged nervous glances, growing especially nervous whenever the inspector marked the paper on his clipboard.
       Eventually, Mr. Crane sat down almost daintily at the bar. "Now, for the final portion of the exam. Mr. Screwball, if you would bring out the dish you've prepared."
       "Yes, sir," Dylan answered, but Johnny was already on it. As he brought out the meal, Mr. Crane smiled broadly. "Fried fish and hush puppies! You know just how to please me, Mr. Screwball." The rat laughed nervously. "Of course, sir."
       After all was said and done, the lion handed over the results. "You've done quite well. I look forward to your continued success," the lion remarked.
       "Thank you, sir," replied Dylan. After the door had closed behind the inspector, Dylan began hopping up and down. "Nice, nice, nice, nice!" he continued to say with each hop before holding up his hand for a high five. Johnny chuckled and completed the gesture. "But don't think this gets you off for the rest of the day," Dylan continued. "We'll work hard until your shift is over. Though, I will give you the extra pay I promised." Johnny smiled and said, "Of course, sir, and thank you."