It's a balmy spring afternoon in the city of Santa Peralta, California. You've probably had a long journey, and the bus is stifling. Thankfully, when you disembark, there's a friendly, metallic face there to greet you.
You see a five foot tall copper robot, wearing a leather jacket, striped shirt, blue jeans, red Converse sneakers, and a pompadour wig. He is blocky and old fashioned looking, with circular eyes, a square jaw, and two-pronged pincers for hands. He extends his rubbery arms and speaks in a metallic, Joisey accent.
"Ey there, boss. You the new check in?"
You see a five foot tall copper robot, wearing a leather jacket, striped shirt, blue jeans, red Converse sneakers, and a pompadour wig. He is blocky and old fashioned looking, with circular eyes, a square jaw, and two-pronged pincers for hands. He extends his rubbery arms and speaks in a metallic, Joisey accent.
"Ey there, boss. You the new check in?"
"Yes it is, yes it is. Name is Axel. Axel Hutchinson. Handy man, bellhop, bus boy, all around helper. If you'll give me your bags, I'll show you to your room."
He gestures to the apartment complex. It's a large, imposing building. A strange, Art Deco style building with several glass domes at various levels the higher it goes, leading up to a stylized penthouse suite at the 20th floor. The building has metallic gargoyles jutting from the side. The eyes appear to follow you. You cannot tell if it is illusion or if they really are.
He gestures to the apartment complex. It's a large, imposing building. A strange, Art Deco style building with several glass domes at various levels the higher it goes, leading up to a stylized penthouse suite at the 20th floor. The building has metallic gargoyles jutting from the side. The eyes appear to follow you. You cannot tell if it is illusion or if they really are.
Axel takes your bag and escorts you to the lobby. It's a wide, open area with chairs scattered about around a fireplace and a coffee table. The table includes a large, dusty tome titled "A Monster's History Of Santa Peralta". It also has a Keurig, K-Cups of various flavors, creamer, and several paper cups. The table sits in front of a fireplace. Hovering above the fireplace is a portrait of a thin, skeletal figure completely covered in coal black skin and thousands of sharp thorn-like appendages. He wears a crimson suit, golden shirt, and black bow tie. The plaque reads
"TIMOR CARBONARIUS
12TH DUKE OF TARTURUS, COMMANDER OF THE 10TH BRIGADE OF ARMAGEDDON, 18TH COUSIN TWICE REMOVED OF LUCIFER
YOUR FRIENDLY LANDLORD"
Axel hands you a stack of paperwork.
"Fill in your name, number, room requirements, and any special service requests such as room service, tank cleanings, extra electricity for lab equipment, you know, standard apartment stuff. If you have any questions, holler. Please, help yourself to the coffee table."
"TIMOR CARBONARIUS
12TH DUKE OF TARTURUS, COMMANDER OF THE 10TH BRIGADE OF ARMAGEDDON, 18TH COUSIN TWICE REMOVED OF LUCIFER
YOUR FRIENDLY LANDLORD"
Axel hands you a stack of paperwork.
"Fill in your name, number, room requirements, and any special service requests such as room service, tank cleanings, extra electricity for lab equipment, you know, standard apartment stuff. If you have any questions, holler. Please, help yourself to the coffee table."
"Alrighty then," replies Axel. "Let me do some calculations..."
He reaches behind his back, and pulls a lever. You hear gears begin to wrench inside his head. Suddenly, his eyes begin to shine, and they project the image of three dollar signs. They blink in rapid succession, along with a wailing siren like that which accompanies a jackpot from a slot machine.
From his mouth comes a long slip of paper. Your bill. He tears it out and hands it to you.
"That'll be $1,800 a month. Do you want to set up auto payment from your credit or debit card, or would you like to personally pay the bill each month? If you can't afford that, we can see about moving you in with another aquatic occupant to split the cost, that is if you don't mind a roommate."
He reaches behind his back, and pulls a lever. You hear gears begin to wrench inside his head. Suddenly, his eyes begin to shine, and they project the image of three dollar signs. They blink in rapid succession, along with a wailing siren like that which accompanies a jackpot from a slot machine.
From his mouth comes a long slip of paper. Your bill. He tears it out and hands it to you.
"That'll be $1,800 a month. Do you want to set up auto payment from your credit or debit card, or would you like to personally pay the bill each month? If you can't afford that, we can see about moving you in with another aquatic occupant to split the cost, that is if you don't mind a roommate."
"Okeydokey." repliex Axel. "Follow me to the elevator."
The elevator goes up to the 11th floor. When the doors open, you see that every room on this floor has a massive, bulky industrial door with a valve opening. He escorts you to your room, Room 1107. He turns the valve counter-clockwise until the door opens with a loud creak. He ushers you through, and you are standing in what appears to be an airlock. You stand before another, similar door, and you are able to see your room. It is completely submerged in water, complete with a sea sponge bed, a coral sofa, a treasure chest full of raw fish, and an Easter Island head with an open mouth, inside which rests a waterproof television set.
"We get local channels and basic cable. The TV can play Hulu, Netflix, Amazon Prime, and HBO, but you need your own accounts. If you ever need me or other staff, push the red button here in the airlock. This is where I get off. I gotta leave before you engage the airlock and enter the apartment. Water and I don't get along. Anything else you need?"
The elevator goes up to the 11th floor. When the doors open, you see that every room on this floor has a massive, bulky industrial door with a valve opening. He escorts you to your room, Room 1107. He turns the valve counter-clockwise until the door opens with a loud creak. He ushers you through, and you are standing in what appears to be an airlock. You stand before another, similar door, and you are able to see your room. It is completely submerged in water, complete with a sea sponge bed, a coral sofa, a treasure chest full of raw fish, and an Easter Island head with an open mouth, inside which rests a waterproof television set.
"We get local channels and basic cable. The TV can play Hulu, Netflix, Amazon Prime, and HBO, but you need your own accounts. If you ever need me or other staff, push the red button here in the airlock. This is where I get off. I gotta leave before you engage the airlock and enter the apartment. Water and I don't get along. Anything else you need?"
"Well, if that's the case, I'll leave you to it."
He puts a coin inside a slot on his forehead. You hear whirring inside before music begins to emanate from him as if he were a jukebox. Elvis begins to sing.
"WELL IT'S ONE FOR THE MONEY
TWO FOR THE SHOW
THREE TO GET READY NOW
GO CAT GO
BUT DON'T YOU
STEP ON MY BLUE SUEDE SHOES"
"I'll be out cleaning if you need me."
Wheels eject from his feet and he skates away, spraying cleaning fluid down the walls of the hallway before the door to your room automatically shuts.
You now have the room to yourself, and it's Friday afternoon. You have nothing but time and a whole new neighborhood to spend it in.
He puts a coin inside a slot on his forehead. You hear whirring inside before music begins to emanate from him as if he were a jukebox. Elvis begins to sing.
"WELL IT'S ONE FOR THE MONEY
TWO FOR THE SHOW
THREE TO GET READY NOW
GO CAT GO
BUT DON'T YOU
STEP ON MY BLUE SUEDE SHOES"
"I'll be out cleaning if you need me."
Wheels eject from his feet and he skates away, spraying cleaning fluid down the walls of the hallway before the door to your room automatically shuts.
You now have the room to yourself, and it's Friday afternoon. You have nothing but time and a whole new neighborhood to spend it in.
As you get adjusted in your new home, you find your rest disturbed about two hours later. You feel a very loud thud coming from the floor, followed by several hard hits to the floor of your tank. The sound rattles your tank, and reverberates through the water. It's disorienting and nauseating. You hear muffled curses, electrical tools, and some indistinguishable music.
You walk out the door, enter the air lock, and the door closes behind you. As soon as the airlock is sealed, the door to the hallway opens.
You see three other people standing in the hallway looking furiously at the floor.
One is a 10 foot plesiosaur-like sea serpent, yellow scales with a long blue fin running down her back. She wears no clothing.
Another is a 5 foot tall mermaid, pink and orange with tentacles for hair. She wears a circular breathing apparatus around her neck and a blue dress that reaches to the intersection of her torso and tail.
The third appears to be a mix between the two, with a draconic face and horns, tentacle hair, and a semi humanoid shape. They wear a red leather trench coat, a tan linen shirt, black jeans, combat boots, and a necklace of shark's teeth.
"I'm gonna kill that man, I swear to god!" grumbles the mermaid in a generic American accent.
"Dearie, don't stress yourself!" replies the sea serpent in a thick Scottish accent. "We can handle this calmly and civilly."
"Uh, remember last time?" said the hybrid in a subtle mix between the two accents. "We asked him to quiet down, and he gave that speech about how nobody told Isaac Newton or Albert Einstein to quiet down. He's a mad scientist. We don't want to make him madder."
"We have plenty of mad scientists," scowls the mermaid. "None of them are as obnoxious as Dr. Eckstein! We're going to go down there and give him what for! I'll call the landlord if I have to!"
"Moms, please, let's just go inside." groans the hybrid.
You see three other people standing in the hallway looking furiously at the floor.
One is a 10 foot plesiosaur-like sea serpent, yellow scales with a long blue fin running down her back. She wears no clothing.
Another is a 5 foot tall mermaid, pink and orange with tentacles for hair. She wears a circular breathing apparatus around her neck and a blue dress that reaches to the intersection of her torso and tail.
The third appears to be a mix between the two, with a draconic face and horns, tentacle hair, and a semi humanoid shape. They wear a red leather trench coat, a tan linen shirt, black jeans, combat boots, and a necklace of shark's teeth.
"I'm gonna kill that man, I swear to god!" grumbles the mermaid in a generic American accent.
"Dearie, don't stress yourself!" replies the sea serpent in a thick Scottish accent. "We can handle this calmly and civilly."
"Uh, remember last time?" said the hybrid in a subtle mix between the two accents. "We asked him to quiet down, and he gave that speech about how nobody told Isaac Newton or Albert Einstein to quiet down. He's a mad scientist. We don't want to make him madder."
"We have plenty of mad scientists," scowls the mermaid. "None of them are as obnoxious as Dr. Eckstein! We're going to go down there and give him what for! I'll call the landlord if I have to!"
"Moms, please, let's just go inside." groans the hybrid.
"Oh hello!" shouts the plesiosaur as a smile creeps across her very long face. "You must be our new next door neighbor!"
She extends her fin to shake. "I'm Morgane Macnamera. This is my wife, Jenny. This is our...um...child, Glenn."
"Mom, I'm 24," Glenn sighs. "Don't call me a child."
"I'm sorry, dearie." Morgane coos. "I mean, what do I call you now? You're not my daughter, you're not my son, is there a word for nonbinary kiddos?"
"Glenn is fine." they blush.
"You picked one hell of a time to move in," Jenny scowls. "The apartment below happens to be inhabited by one Dr. Joseph Eckstein. He's been working on some particularly noisy project and has no care for the people who live above him who feel EVERY! SINGLE! THING! REVERBERATING! THROUGH! THEIR! TANKS!"
"Dearie, you're shouting at our new neighbor!" cries Morgane. She sounds almost frightened at the prospect of offending you. "What's your name, bonny lass?"
She extends her fin to shake. "I'm Morgane Macnamera. This is my wife, Jenny. This is our...um...child, Glenn."
"Mom, I'm 24," Glenn sighs. "Don't call me a child."
"I'm sorry, dearie." Morgane coos. "I mean, what do I call you now? You're not my daughter, you're not my son, is there a word for nonbinary kiddos?"
"Glenn is fine." they blush.
"You picked one hell of a time to move in," Jenny scowls. "The apartment below happens to be inhabited by one Dr. Joseph Eckstein. He's been working on some particularly noisy project and has no care for the people who live above him who feel EVERY! SINGLE! THING! REVERBERATING! THROUGH! THEIR! TANKS!"
"Dearie, you're shouting at our new neighbor!" cries Morgane. She sounds almost frightened at the prospect of offending you. "What's your name, bonny lass?"
"Maybe you should talk to him." says Glenn. "You're a new face, maybe he'll be more inclined to be polite to you."
"Come now," replies Morgane. "She's just moved in and we're already asking her to fight our battles for us? Look, why don't we all get out of the house, get some fresh air, get that river water flowing through our gills?"
"I need a drink," groans Jenny. "Like, alcohol. I'm going to The Punch Bowl."
"Jenny, it's not even 5 o'clock!" scolds Morgane.
"It's 5 o'clock somewhere," Jenny shrugs. "Besides, mommy needs a margarita."
"I'm down for either one," says Glenn. "I'll go where you go, new girl. If you wanna confront Dr. Eckstein, I could go with you to provide moral support."
"Come now," replies Morgane. "She's just moved in and we're already asking her to fight our battles for us? Look, why don't we all get out of the house, get some fresh air, get that river water flowing through our gills?"
"I need a drink," groans Jenny. "Like, alcohol. I'm going to The Punch Bowl."
"Jenny, it's not even 5 o'clock!" scolds Morgane.
"It's 5 o'clock somewhere," Jenny shrugs. "Besides, mommy needs a margarita."
"I'm down for either one," says Glenn. "I'll go where you go, new girl. If you wanna confront Dr. Eckstein, I could go with you to provide moral support."
Glenn pats you on the shoulder.
"We got this."
"Alright, we'll see meet you when you finish up!" cheers Morgane. "Hopefully my wife isn't too lost in the sauce by then."
"Babe!" shouts Jenny. "Baby, relax."
Jenny wraps her arm around Morgane's neck. They whisper to each other as they walk toward the elevator. Glenn takes you down the stairs, since it's only one floor down.
You can see that this floor appears to be mostly laboratory space. The doors are farther apart, suggesting bigger rooms. Some are blood stained. All have bars and extra security features. You can see flickering lights coming from some windows. You eventually find yourself staring at room 1007. The sign on the door reads
"DR. JOSEPH ECKSTEIN
ROGUE CHEMIST"
"Ya nervous, buddy?" asks Glenn.
"We got this."
"Alright, we'll see meet you when you finish up!" cheers Morgane. "Hopefully my wife isn't too lost in the sauce by then."
"Babe!" shouts Jenny. "Baby, relax."
Jenny wraps her arm around Morgane's neck. They whisper to each other as they walk toward the elevator. Glenn takes you down the stairs, since it's only one floor down.
You can see that this floor appears to be mostly laboratory space. The doors are farther apart, suggesting bigger rooms. Some are blood stained. All have bars and extra security features. You can see flickering lights coming from some windows. You eventually find yourself staring at room 1007. The sign on the door reads
"DR. JOSEPH ECKSTEIN
ROGUE CHEMIST"
"Ya nervous, buddy?" asks Glenn.
You knock on the door. Glenn winces.
"Moments like this remind me of Shakespeare. 'March on! Join bravely! Let us to it pell mell! If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell!'"
After a moment's silence, you see a face peering at you from the bars of the doors. A heavily disfigured man, face burned and scarred horrifically, stares at you through Groucho Marx glasses. The novelty handlebar mustache attached to the glasses is dyed orange to match a very unconvincing orange toupee. He at first seems angry, but then upon seeing your face, melts into a smile.
"Hello," he booms in a deep, silky voice. "How may I be of assistance?"
"Moments like this remind me of Shakespeare. 'March on! Join bravely! Let us to it pell mell! If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell!'"
After a moment's silence, you see a face peering at you from the bars of the doors. A heavily disfigured man, face burned and scarred horrifically, stares at you through Groucho Marx glasses. The novelty handlebar mustache attached to the glasses is dyed orange to match a very unconvincing orange toupee. He at first seems angry, but then upon seeing your face, melts into a smile.
"Hello," he booms in a deep, silky voice. "How may I be of assistance?"
He appears concerned, even sympathetic. Then his eyes dart to Glenn. He scowls, and is about to shout, but then adjusts his spectacles and takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, I, I tried to explain to your...friend over there. This is important work I'm doing. Perhaps it'd be best if I showed you. Maybe then you'd understand."
He opens his door and ushers you in. You can see the inside of his wide laboratory space. It is full of strange machinery you couldn't begin to understand, unless you have a scientific background. Neon chemicals of every color are being pumped and filtered through a gigantic machine that appears to be stirring them into a concoction that appears to be viscous, grey, and semi-crystalline.
In the corner, there's a vinyl record player that's blaring "Give Up The Funk (Tear The Roof Off The Sucker)" by Parliament.
"This...this is primordial ooze! Or at least, it's getting there. I'm working on it. This is the chemical that kickstarted the development of all life on Earth! You think stem cells are all that? Pssshhh. These are like stem cells for every living organism that ever existed on the planet, and that could ever exist on any planet! This is the broth of all creation! That is what I am working on. That is what is making all this noise. This is why I can't stop. Just think, any day now, I will have cracked the code, and solved the oldest mystery plaguing the human brain! And, this is the cherry on top, I will prove that CHEMISTRY IS BETTER THAN BIOLOGY, BECAUSE WITHOUT CHEMISTRY, THERE WOULD BE NO BIOLOGY! SUCK IT, MAD BIOLOGISTS!"
He begins to cackle in that typical mad scientist cackle that Glenn can't help but scoff at.
Glenn sticks their finger in the ooze and takes a lick of it.
"Molasses." they chuckle. "This is molasses, doc."
The doctor stares at the concoction, scoops a handful of it, and slurps it down. Enraged, he spits it on the floor, and glares up at the ceiling.
"I WILL UNCOVER YOUR SECRETS, ELOHIM!" he screams.
"I'm sorry, I, I tried to explain to your...friend over there. This is important work I'm doing. Perhaps it'd be best if I showed you. Maybe then you'd understand."
He opens his door and ushers you in. You can see the inside of his wide laboratory space. It is full of strange machinery you couldn't begin to understand, unless you have a scientific background. Neon chemicals of every color are being pumped and filtered through a gigantic machine that appears to be stirring them into a concoction that appears to be viscous, grey, and semi-crystalline.
In the corner, there's a vinyl record player that's blaring "Give Up The Funk (Tear The Roof Off The Sucker)" by Parliament.
"This...this is primordial ooze! Or at least, it's getting there. I'm working on it. This is the chemical that kickstarted the development of all life on Earth! You think stem cells are all that? Pssshhh. These are like stem cells for every living organism that ever existed on the planet, and that could ever exist on any planet! This is the broth of all creation! That is what I am working on. That is what is making all this noise. This is why I can't stop. Just think, any day now, I will have cracked the code, and solved the oldest mystery plaguing the human brain! And, this is the cherry on top, I will prove that CHEMISTRY IS BETTER THAN BIOLOGY, BECAUSE WITHOUT CHEMISTRY, THERE WOULD BE NO BIOLOGY! SUCK IT, MAD BIOLOGISTS!"
He begins to cackle in that typical mad scientist cackle that Glenn can't help but scoff at.
Glenn sticks their finger in the ooze and takes a lick of it.
"Molasses." they chuckle. "This is molasses, doc."
The doctor stares at the concoction, scoops a handful of it, and slurps it down. Enraged, he spits it on the floor, and glares up at the ceiling.
"I WILL UNCOVER YOUR SECRETS, ELOHIM!" he screams.
He sighs.
"You know what? I'm sorry. I...I need to rethink this whole operation. I thought I was so close. But, I guess I need to go back to the drawing board. I can't promise that I won't stir from time to time, but, this machine probably isn't going to activate again for a while."
"Thanks, doc." replies Glenn.
"Help yourself to the molasses, I suppose. I have some leftover matzo from Passover next to the record player as well. I don't know how molasses tastes on matzo, but, I'll let you two do that experiment."
He smiles before collapsing onto his chair, hands folded as if in prayer, but his face in deep thought.
"That was easier than I thought." replies Glenn, dunking some matzo in the sugary sauce. "You wanna head to the Punch Bowl now?"
They take a bite of the dish.
"Dry. Could use a drink." they say with a mushy mouth.
"You know what? I'm sorry. I...I need to rethink this whole operation. I thought I was so close. But, I guess I need to go back to the drawing board. I can't promise that I won't stir from time to time, but, this machine probably isn't going to activate again for a while."
"Thanks, doc." replies Glenn.
"Help yourself to the molasses, I suppose. I have some leftover matzo from Passover next to the record player as well. I don't know how molasses tastes on matzo, but, I'll let you two do that experiment."
He smiles before collapsing onto his chair, hands folded as if in prayer, but his face in deep thought.
"That was easier than I thought." replies Glenn, dunking some matzo in the sugary sauce. "You wanna head to the Punch Bowl now?"
They take a bite of the dish.
"Dry. Could use a drink." they say with a mushy mouth.
Glenn follows and the two of you head down the elevator and into the lobby. Axel is swabbing the floor, and now Wanda Jackson is playing.
"Well a hard headed woman, a soft hearted man,
Been the cause of trouble ever since the world began!
Oh yeah, ever since the world began, ah oh oh oh oh!
A hard headed woman is a thorn in the side of man!"
He waves at you and Glenn. Glenn reciprocates.
"How's it going, greasebot?" asks Glenn.
"Slowly," Axel grumbles. "But, I don't mind. I'm practically immortal. Got all the time in the world."
"Good, you'll outlive us all!" laughs Glenn. "Will you be at my funeral?"
"If I went to every meatbag in this place's funeral," replies Axel, "I might as well wear nothing but tuxes."
"Take care, Axel." Glenn chuckles as you head toward the Punch Bowl.
"Well a hard headed woman, a soft hearted man,
Been the cause of trouble ever since the world began!
Oh yeah, ever since the world began, ah oh oh oh oh!
A hard headed woman is a thorn in the side of man!"
He waves at you and Glenn. Glenn reciprocates.
"How's it going, greasebot?" asks Glenn.
"Slowly," Axel grumbles. "But, I don't mind. I'm practically immortal. Got all the time in the world."
"Good, you'll outlive us all!" laughs Glenn. "Will you be at my funeral?"
"If I went to every meatbag in this place's funeral," replies Axel, "I might as well wear nothing but tuxes."
"Take care, Axel." Glenn chuckles as you head toward the Punch Bowl.
"Oh, Axel? He's the coolest." says Glenn. "I don't know if you're into philosophy, but he is Albert Camus' absurd hero incarnate. Created to be a servant just conscious enough to realize his condition, yet completely incapable of breaking away from that role. And still, he somehow manages to embody rebellion. He dresses like a 50s greaser, listens to rock and roll, and talks smack with the people he serves. He is, as Camus would say, a happy Sisyphus."
Glenn twirls their facial tentacles around their finger nervously after saying that.
"Oh god, I sound like a total nerd now."
Glenn twirls their facial tentacles around their finger nervously after saying that.
"Oh god, I sound like a total nerd now."
(((Glenn uses they/them pronouns. My apologies if I didn't make that more explicit.)))
"Yep, right over here."
Glenn leads you to The Square, a portion of the park dedicated to businesses and restaurants. Glenn makes a bee line right to a divey looking bar. The building is painted white, with red Japanese and English text written all over it. There is a stylized drawing of a giant gorilla fighting a robot on the sign that reads:
"THE PUNCH BOWL
Kaiju Brawl Bar and Grill
Hours:
Sunday-Thursday: Noon to 10 PM
Friday and Saturday: Noon to 2 AM
Live Brawls on Saturdays"
"Oh yeah, tomorrow they're doing a mech battle. Not anybody you would know if you follow the sport, probably. It's mostly locals. They do show the big brawls on TV though, but right now they'll probably just be showing Godzilla movies or something."
"Yep, right over here."
Glenn leads you to The Square, a portion of the park dedicated to businesses and restaurants. Glenn makes a bee line right to a divey looking bar. The building is painted white, with red Japanese and English text written all over it. There is a stylized drawing of a giant gorilla fighting a robot on the sign that reads:
"THE PUNCH BOWL
Kaiju Brawl Bar and Grill
Hours:
Sunday-Thursday: Noon to 10 PM
Friday and Saturday: Noon to 2 AM
Live Brawls on Saturdays"
"Oh yeah, tomorrow they're doing a mech battle. Not anybody you would know if you follow the sport, probably. It's mostly locals. They do show the big brawls on TV though, but right now they'll probably just be showing Godzilla movies or something."
(((Sorry for ghosting. Just got back last night from Monsterpalooza.)))
"Oh yeah. I've been going to them since my 7th hatchday. I've always wanted to place bets on the fighters, but my moms would flip out if they knew I was gambling. Come on in."
They open the door and you are smacked in the face by the smell of liquor and grilled meat. "Bring Da Ruckus" by Wu-Tang Clan plays softly (or, as softly as Wu-Tang Clan can be played) on speakers muffled by the din of customers.
The walls are plastered with posters from mecha anime, Japanese monster movies, and real life kaiju and mecha battles. Flat screen TVs hang from the ceiling facing every possible direction. Reruns of the classic Ultraman series are playing on mute with closed captions.
As it's close to dinner, there are a few customers. You see a creature resembling an giant isopod laughing with a Sasquatch over a pair of drinks at the bar. A woman in a labcoat sporting a mowhawk is playing Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots against a skeleton in a tuxedo at a table covered in half-eaten buffalo wings. Five elderly women dressed in robes and pointed hats drink margaritas and flirt with an annoyed looking minotaur waiter.
You see Jenny sitting at the bar, her tail wrapped around the stool, laughing as she talks to the bartender. He is a large man, tall and broad. He has dark skin and long dreadlocks, but his face has features that suggest Asian heritage. A goatee struggling to show itself surrounds a sincere smile. He is wearing a backwards trucker hat, a green polo shirt, and a black apron that reads "GRILL MONSTER" in bold Chiller font over a cartoon furry horned monster grilling hot dogs.
He and Jenny turn to face you two as you enter.
"Hey guys!" shouts Jenny.
"You must be our new neighbor!" shouts the bartender. He beckons you to approach and extends his hand for a shake. "Tony Fujikawa. I own the place."
"Oh yeah. I've been going to them since my 7th hatchday. I've always wanted to place bets on the fighters, but my moms would flip out if they knew I was gambling. Come on in."
They open the door and you are smacked in the face by the smell of liquor and grilled meat. "Bring Da Ruckus" by Wu-Tang Clan plays softly (or, as softly as Wu-Tang Clan can be played) on speakers muffled by the din of customers.
The walls are plastered with posters from mecha anime, Japanese monster movies, and real life kaiju and mecha battles. Flat screen TVs hang from the ceiling facing every possible direction. Reruns of the classic Ultraman series are playing on mute with closed captions.
As it's close to dinner, there are a few customers. You see a creature resembling an giant isopod laughing with a Sasquatch over a pair of drinks at the bar. A woman in a labcoat sporting a mowhawk is playing Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots against a skeleton in a tuxedo at a table covered in half-eaten buffalo wings. Five elderly women dressed in robes and pointed hats drink margaritas and flirt with an annoyed looking minotaur waiter.
You see Jenny sitting at the bar, her tail wrapped around the stool, laughing as she talks to the bartender. He is a large man, tall and broad. He has dark skin and long dreadlocks, but his face has features that suggest Asian heritage. A goatee struggling to show itself surrounds a sincere smile. He is wearing a backwards trucker hat, a green polo shirt, and a black apron that reads "GRILL MONSTER" in bold Chiller font over a cartoon furry horned monster grilling hot dogs.
He and Jenny turn to face you two as you enter.
"Hey guys!" shouts Jenny.
"You must be our new neighbor!" shouts the bartender. He beckons you to approach and extends his hand for a shake. "Tony Fujikawa. I own the place."
Tony's handshake is firm, warm, and sincere. He makes eye contact with you while doing it.
"So where you coming from, Charlotte?" he asks. "I'd say by the look of you, you fell right out of Heaven."
Jenny chortles, nearly spilling her drink.
"You big flirt," she sighs, slapping him on his muscular arms before turning to you. "Don't fall for his stupid pick up lines. I know this from experience, bartenders are not to be trusted."
"Mom, please don't talk about your old flames." groans Glenn.
"Can I get you anything, hon?" Tony asks you. "We got burgers, booze, wings, ribs, fries, soda, whatever you like. First meal's on me."
"So where you coming from, Charlotte?" he asks. "I'd say by the look of you, you fell right out of Heaven."
Jenny chortles, nearly spilling her drink.
"You big flirt," she sighs, slapping him on his muscular arms before turning to you. "Don't fall for his stupid pick up lines. I know this from experience, bartenders are not to be trusted."
"Mom, please don't talk about your old flames." groans Glenn.
"Can I get you anything, hon?" Tony asks you. "We got burgers, booze, wings, ribs, fries, soda, whatever you like. First meal's on me."
"Well," Tony squeals, looking off into the distance, as if he were pondering whether or not he should say what he's about to say. "If you like sushi, I was interested in trying to make some. I figure, this place is Japanese themed, I'm half Japanese, maybe I should actually serve some Japanese food. But, nobody's been interested. If you want, I can whip up some spicy tuna rolls."
"For obvious reasons," Jenny laughs, "I'm not wild about your appetite for fish. But, I'll try not to make a fuss. The only one who can eat me i-"
"DON'T FINISH THAT SENTENCE OR I'LL CALL THE COPS!" shouts Glenn, caught in the awkward space between amusement and anger. "Jesus Christ, how sloshed are you?"
"Not as sloshed as you're about to be!" Jenny replies. "Tony, Jack and Coke. It's Glenn's favorite."
Glenn sighs. "Alright, fine."
Glenn plops down on the bar next to their mother. They pat the seat next to them, offering it to you.
"For obvious reasons," Jenny laughs, "I'm not wild about your appetite for fish. But, I'll try not to make a fuss. The only one who can eat me i-"
"DON'T FINISH THAT SENTENCE OR I'LL CALL THE COPS!" shouts Glenn, caught in the awkward space between amusement and anger. "Jesus Christ, how sloshed are you?"
"Not as sloshed as you're about to be!" Jenny replies. "Tony, Jack and Coke. It's Glenn's favorite."
Glenn sighs. "Alright, fine."
Glenn plops down on the bar next to their mother. They pat the seat next to them, offering it to you.