Chapter 12

David picked up his car from Chop Shop Automotive that morning (David was happy to find that they’d only fixed the agreed-upon problems), and for the first time in a long time, he drove to work.

After David finished with that morning’s first and only customer, he did the rounds, feeding each of the animals. When he was done and had nothing else to do, he stood in front of the glass door and watched the proceedings outside. The crowd was still there, chanting inane things and making a point to seem like the most important people on the block.

David pushed his way through the mob to get across the street and go to Fried Fare for lunch (probably not worth the effort, but David wanted a burger), then pushed his way back through the mob to return to Bob’s Pets. One protester elbowed him in the ribs, but he couldn’t tell whether or not it was on purpose.

“The protesters are getting annoying.”

“Then do something to appease them,” Mano said. “Give them one of the animals.”

“I can’t do that,” David said. “This is a store; Selzer expects money for these creatures.”

“Release the Hydra!”

“It’d be funnier if you’d said Kraken.”

“Just shut up and release the damn thing.”

Selzer was going to kill him, but the protesters were getting really annoying. David reluctantly lifted the Hydra from its cage and carried it outside to the mob of activists. It curled languidly in his hands, apparently comfortable with David. He felt a little bad that he was handing the Hydra over to the crazies; it didn’t deserve that. Nothing deserved that.

“He’s releasing one of the hostages!”

David rolled his eyes.

“Look, if I release this one to you, will you leave us alone?”

“Never!”

“Will you take a week off, at least?”

The protesters discussed it amongst themselves and finally decided David’s terms were agreeable.

“Fine, take it,” David said, handing the Hydra over.

He stalked back into the store and watched the protesters from inside. They were gloating over the Hydra like they’d won some huge victory, lifting it in the air and—

David’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit!”

There were gasps of shock, and the Hydra fell to the ground, writhing like a really pissed off snake (which it was, only with nine angry heads instead of just one). It spit fire again, and this time it made contact; the leader’s pants caught fire like they were made of gasoline. His screams were loud and shrill and full of panic. David started to open the door.

“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you,” Mano warned.

David closed the door and watched as the Hydra ate the burning man whole. It shouldn’t have been physically possible, given the Hydra’s small size, but its digestive fluids were so acidic they actually dissolved organic tissue on contact. The man disappeared into two of the Hydra’s mouths like they were portals to another dimension, and the Hydra didn’t stretch an inch.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t think he’s going to help.”

Mano was right; all the protesters fled in horror, and Jesus didn’t even make an appearance much less save the man. The Hydra curled up after its snack and went to sleep.

The rabbit made a mental nod. “Okay, now you can go retrieve it.”

David, very carefully and very quietly, picked the Hydra up and gently, very gently, returned it to its terrarium. His heart started beating again after he closed the lid.

“Oh, God…”

“Well, I don’t think the protesters will be returning anytime soon,” Mano said.

David was leaning against the wall, trying to get his breathing back to something that resembled normal. His heart and lungs weren’t cooperating.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he said to no one in particular. “It ate the man.”

Mano sat quietly on the counter, watching David try and fail to regain his composure.

David remembered the rabbit in the room and turned his head to look at it. “Did...did you know it breathed fire?”

Mano paused before responding. “If I say ‘no,’ will you believe me?”

David thought about it for a moment. “No,” he said. “I wouldn’t.”

The inevitable police inquiry didn’t turn up anything. For one, the protesters had hauled ass in such haste that none had thought to record it on video (as unlikely as that is, it was statistically bound to happen once during the course of human history). For another thing, none of the examiners wanted to get within ten feet of the Hydra for fear they might spontaneously combust in its presence. And because the creature had eaten the protester whole and dissolved him into something akin to juice, there was no forensic evidence to be found.

The authorities probably should have confiscated the Hydra, given that if it had eaten the man then it proved to be the cleanest form of murder short of tossing someone into a black hole, but because they couldn’t prove that it had actually eaten anyone (and because, while they were looking at it through the glass, the creature opened one of its eyes and might have seen them), they decided to leave it where it was.

Selzer hadn’t witnessed the incident, and David wasn’t willing to admit he witnessed the incident, so the only people who claimed the nine-headed snake had eaten someone were the same people who held signs saying, “BNA is Sacred.”

You’re getting better at lying, Mano complimented him.

Well, I’ve had to since you entered my life.

It was the truest statement David made that day.

A day of talking to the police left David very thirsty. Mano, understanding the stress humans felt when dealing with incompetent authority figures (especially ones with keys to a jail cell), didn’t argue. After a quick meal with Rodney at See-Food Buffet (David fully expected to come down with a cold or the black plague or something within the next couple days), they went next door to Blue Devil’s Cut and got to drinking.

“Wait, Amanda is encouraging you to spend less time with her?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way…”

Rodney laughed. “I would! God, I wish the girls I dated felt that way.”

For Rodney, “date” meant “fuck.” For the girls, “date” meant “date,” which is why they were so shocked when a month went by and he still hadn’t called back.

“What do you care?” David said. “You just sneak out after they fall asleep, anyway.”

“Yeah, but I have to watch out for creaky floorboards,” Rodney said. “It’d be nice to not feel that kind of pressure.”

David felt the overpowering need to change the subject.

“I heard you playing guitar on the air,” he ventured, having actually heard no such thing because his radio was broken.

“Oh, yeah, wasn’t it killer?” Rodney smiled and took another drink. “I’ve been practicing, so I can actually play a few more chords, now.”

He didn’t mention that it was David’s artistic improvement that inspired him. It‘s in bad taste for friends to be all gushy and nice to each other; such compliments are implicitly understood and better left unsaid.

Instead, Rodney showed his appreciation by paying for all his own drinks and making lewd comments about David’s girlfriend.

The next day, Bob’s Pets was devoid of both protesters and police. That made it a better day than they’d had in a good while. They even had some customers trickling in again.

David wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but the customers seemed to be clinging to the opposite side of the aisle when they passed the Hydra’s terrarium. They also very deliberately avoided making eye contact with it (which can be difficult when a creature stares at you with eighteen eyes).

That evening he finally, unable to avoid the inevitable any longer, went home after work. It certainly wasn’t his first choice, but Rodney was busy and drinking alone had produced terrible results last time.

Amanda did what he feared she would and insisted that he go out for some fresh air and inspiration. He wasn’t allowed to return home until he created something. As David left the apartment, he wondered how many nights he could sleep on a bench before Selzer complained about the smell. Didn’t some people bathe in sinks? Maybe that’d buy him an extra week.

You can’t go home with nothing to show for it.

I know, David answered. That’s why I’m looking for an empty bench.

The sooner I get started, the sooner you can crawl back home to your girlfriend.

David spent another hour fretting and trying to decide on the best possible angle for getting a good night’s sleep on a slab of wood. The blossoming pain in his lower back only added to the feeling of utter hopelessness.

With the rabbit seated next to him, David sat forlornly on the bench and stared at the cracked pavement. Without saying or thinking anything, he relaxed his mind and let Mano in.

Mano’s first order of business was to buy supplies. He bought charcoal, pastels, pastel primer, and different grades of graphite (he couldn’t toss David’s “lucky” pencil, but he didn’t have to use it anymore, either). He also purchased a few canvases in different dimensions and an easel. It was a good thing David had gotten that raise, or else Mano wouldn’t have been able to afford all those supplies and a decent hotel room for the night.

He primed each of the canvases and then fixed himself up in front of the mirror. David’s body cleaned up decently well. He was slim, and just standing up straight helped a lot. Mano didn’t understand why the boy insisted on slouching constantly. When he looked like something another person could be attracted to, he left for the library.

The cute librarian was still there, working behind the counter. She smiled at Mano when he entered. He nodded in her direction and pretended to be interested in borrowing a book. When he couldn’t decide which was more interesting, Greco-Roman art or the life of Leonardo da Vinci, he requested her assistance and watched her nipples harden under her shirt when his knowledge surpassed her own. After a little bit of “innocent” flirting, he let her lead him to the library’s video viewing room; they had an hour and a half before its next scheduled group would arrive.

The stereotype about sexually repressed librarians seemed to be true in this case.

Once their time was just about up, Mano invited the librarian (her name was, unfortunately for her, Esther, but she was sexier to Mano as just “the librarian”) to stop by his hotel room when her shift ended. She smiled and nodded demurely as she tried to fix her disheveled hair.

When the librarian showed up and saw the supplies in the room, she was delighted to see that she’d found not only a scholar but an artist. This allowed Mano to get away with sexual acts 35% dirtier than he would otherwise.

When she finally collapsed from exhaustion, Mano was pleased to find that the primer had finished drying. He broke out the charcoals and studied the light gleaming off the librarian’s perspiration-slicked legs, drawing them in photographic detail. When he finished, he scrubbed the artist off his hands, then packed his stuff and returned to the apartment. After leaving the drawing on the kitchen table, he slipped gently into bed so as not to wake David’s girlfriend and fell quickly asleep.

Don’t worry about the librarian (Esther); Mano tucked her in before he left so she wouldn’t get cold.

David woke up, actually felt well rested for five seconds, and then remembered what he’d relinquished last night and immediately felt less well. He almost asked Mano what happened, but then decided he didn’t want to know. It was better not to know. If he didn’t know, he couldn’t feel guilty about whatever it was he didn’t know about.

David looked in the mirror. His hair always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, but today it seemed… different. The rabbit heard his confusion and hopped over.

“It took some pomade and a bit of wrangling, but I think it was worth it,” Mano said.

“Pomade?”

“It’s a hair product,” Mano explained.

“You put effort into making my hair look scruffy?”

“Stylishly unkempt, and yes.”

“I didn’t give you permission to fuck with my hair!” It was a stupid argument, but it was all David had. After all, he hadn’t surrendered every aspect of his life to a rabbit, had he?

“Okay,” Mano said. He let David have a moment to glower before continuing. “Hey, did I tell you about the cute librarian I met? I think I introduced her to a lot of new—“

“I’m sorry!” David interrupted him. “I’m just used to, you know…”

“Looking like a slacker with no interest in ever getting laid again?”

David turned back to the mirror and mussed the product out of his hair. When he looked good and miserable, he grabbed Mano and left for work.

Other than getting pinched a few times by the Kraken and stopping some teens from feeding the bird-mice Pop Rocks, it was a pretty uneventful day at Bob’s Pets.

He returned home, exhausted and a little tender, and decided some bandages wouldn’t be the worst idea ever.

Amanda greeted him almost as soon as he walked through the door. He held his arms out, careful not to touch her with his damaged hands (not for her benefit; it would just hurt like hell if they came in contact with anything).

“I knew you could do it!”

“Uh, thanks?” David was used to being confused when Amanda talked to him.

“It’s so beautiful,” she continued. “You captured my legs perfectly.”

David’s first feelings of confusion were being eclipsed by a different kind of confusion, which was neither an improvement nor helpful. When she dragged him to the kitchen table, he suddenly realized he had forgotten to look at last night’s creation.

At first, he was impressed by “his” talent. Then he was impressed by Mano’s talent. Then he realized he was looking down at just one piece of art.

Where’s the rest?

What rest?

There’s just one drawing here!

Which is more than you could do.

Mano was right, of course, but that wasn’t the point.

Your debauchery couldn’t have taken all night!

Amanda wanted to see something from you. I gave her what she needed to assuage her fears.

I know you could do more than one in a night.

I could, but I won’t.

Suddenly, David felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach.

“I knew getting out of the apartment would inspire you.” Apparently, Amanda was still talking. “I can’t wait to see what you create next.”

Suddenly, David felt a tsunami of knives in his stomach.

David managed not to get injured again at work, but his fingers were still smarting, and he didn’t want to risk Amanda asking, well, anything of him, so he went to the Blue Devil’s Cut to get drunk with Rodney.

The bandages on his fingers made grasping the mug a little trickier, but David managed.

“Would you like to buy a Kraken?” he asked miserably while staring into his drink.

Rodney laughed. “Is that what wrecked your hands?”

“Yeah,” David said. “Apparently, it has no problem pinching the hand that feeds it.”

“All those punters and you can’t sell the damn thing?”

“Who’s going to want a pissy octopus with claws?”

Rodney thought about it a moment. “Isn’t there a seafood restaurant not far from the shop?”

David nodded. He had almost called the local restaurants at work that day, but it seemed mean to sentence the Kraken to the fate of common sea fare just for clipping his fingers.

If the creature did it again, though, he would definitely make the call.

“So,” Rodney said a few drinks later. “How’d Amanda do with you away from the flat?”

“What are you talking about? I get home late all the time.”

“But now you’ll be doing it more often.”

Rodney’s not wrong.

“Is this your attempt to show concern?”

“It’s my attempt to offer Amanda comfort and companionship if her bed gets cold while you’re away,” Rodney said gallantly, puffing out his chest and striking a heroic pose.

He’ll do it, too.

“I think she’ll manage,” David said.

“Well, if she gets lonely, my cock, I mean company, is available whenever she needs it.”

David flipped off his friend ordered another beer.

A package from the university arrived the next day at Bob’s Pets. It had been a long time since he made the request, but the undergrads had finally sent him a shipment of fish.

Because David didn’t specify what kind of fish, the undergrads sent him glow-in-the-dark piranhas. He wasn’t sure if they were being funny or if they were just stupid, but he priced the Glowie Piranhas lower than normal to get rid of them quicker. Next time, he’d be more specific.

Mano found the piranhas interesting to watch, but David didn’t ask his opinion and Mano didn’t give it.

As David was cleaning one of the fish tanks, Selzer interrupted with a bit of news.

“I’ve hired a new employee.”

It seemed that, because there were now customers coming in regularly and spending money, Selzer believed it was necessary to doom another person to a life of working the register and cleaning out cages. David hid his anxiety while Selzer remained in the room, then went into full panic mode the moment he left.

“He hired a new employee.” David was worried his value just plummeted. “He’s not supposed to hire a new employee. He’s supposed to be a miserable old miser who only has one employee who he can never, ever fire, no matter how much that employee sucks.”

“I could try talking to him again,” Mano said.

“What? No. No, no, no.”

“Why not?” Mano said. “It got you a raise last time.”

“What if he figures out what’s going on?”

“Oh yes,” Mano said, rolling its eyes. “Because every prophet throughout history thought it was a rabbit, not God, in his head.”

David didn’t have a response for that; hearing the voice of God certainly did seem more plausible than a talking rabbit.

He went to Pie’d Piper for lunch in an attempt to cheer himself up with baked goods. It was mildly successful for as long as the sugar rush lasted.

When it hit five o’clock, David didn’t whine or procrastinate or try to talk his way out of it (not that he could, but that never stopped him from trying); he just silently handed the reins to Mano.

Mano went to the apartment to grab his materials and to make sure Amanda knew he wouldn’t be home until he “grabbed at the heart of life and discovered its secrets,” so that he could try to be worthy of her affections. His poetic bullshitting brought sweet words of encouragement from her lips, and he left to bravely go out into the world and find his inspiration.

Before starting anything, Mano returned to the library for a quickie in the terminally empty microfiche room. He was with her for about an hour, which wouldn’t count as a quickie for most people, but it did for him.

He spent his night drawing in a hotel room. Mano filled seven canvases and prepped another eight while he was there.

After that, he bought a heavy-duty combination lock (the great thing about combination locks is the lack of a tell-tale key) and went to a storage facility, Hide Your Shit Here. He didn’t need anything fancy, just somewhere to keep his work. After he locked up, he only had one drawing with him.

Mano returned to the apartment at 3am, left his work on the kitchen table, and went to bed.

David had the weekend to himself, and he put it to good use watching TV and helping Amanda with her “homework.” On Saturday, she was just horny. But on Sunday, she asked him to do her from behind while she washed the dishes. Amazingly, nothing ended up broken, and David even had fun; he never realized what a turn-on it was to watch a girl do housework. When he encouraged Amanda to do it more often, she purposefully took it the wrong way and smacked him with the wet towel. She also made a mental note to buy a maid costume.

On Monday, David used up the last of the bandages and sold the Kraken to a nearby seafood restaurant. He charged them twice as much as the creature was originally marked for. The restaurant’s evening special was priced so high that night, David could have charged four times as much and still not have hurt their profits.

After work, he went to the bar and toasted the creature’s demise. He was both sorry he’d sent it to its death and hopeful that it was at that moment burning in hell (those pincers were really sharp). It was a strange assortment of emotions, to say the least.

David felt the need to complain. “Selzer hired a new employee.”

“Is he a total wanker?”

“Dunno,” David said. “I haven’t met him, yet.”

“Oh, so you’re just afraid you’re gonna get sacked.”

Rodney checked his watch periodically as they drank their first beers.

David drained his mug and gave his friend a knowing look. “Is she hot?”

“What?” Rodney looked confused for a moment before the question registered. “Oh, no. It’s not like that. I, er, promised a nutter from work I’d hang out with him tonight.”

“Oh.”

“Are you up for it?” Rodney said.

“You want me to hang out with you and your work buddy?”

“He’s not my buddy,” Rodney said.

David raised an eyebrow.

“C’mon, be a mate.” The look in Rodney’s eyes suggested desperation.

David sighed. “Where are we going?”

“Lazy Polly’s a few blocks down.”

“What?” David said. “That bar is an even bigger shithole than this one.”

“Spot on. And don’t mention this place. I’ll be buggered if I’m going to let him find out we drink here.”

“Ah, okay.”

Rodney seemed happy for a moment, but then his shoulders sagged in defeat. “I guess we should hit the pavement,” he said.

The walk to Lazy Polly’s was slow going. As the Law of Phelps Eno states, all crosswalk signs must change to “Don’t Walk” when you arrive at an intersection. This ensures maximum standing-around-and-waiting time for pedestrians to regret forgoing their vehicles.

Rodney’s work not-buddy, whose name turned out to be Eli, was already there waiting for them. Rodney performed the ceremonious introductions (“Eli, Vid. Vid, Eli.” “It’s actually David.”) and they ordered their first round of drinks. Here they ordered bottled beer; whatever Lazy Polly had on tap was not to be trusted (when asked, patrons described it as “if syphilis were a flavor” and “I don’t want to talk about it”).

It quickly became apparent why Rodney didn’t want to hang out with Eli by himself. The guy was a social Hiroshima. Whenever Eli wasn’t looking, Rodney would turn to David with a pleading look, but David didn’t have any sharp objects to lend him.

“—and Stephanie was all like, ‘Back to the sounding board!’”

Eli guffawed at whatever joke he’d just told, while Rodney forced a laugh and David barely managed to crack an awkward smile.

I don’t get it.

Inside joke.

…And?

It’s still not funny.

David nodded mindlessly to appear as if he were still listening to whatever the hell his companions were saying, which he had no intention of actually listening to.

Want to have some fun?

You brought razor blades?

No, I brought my amazing ability to tell you what to say.

David considered it a moment.

What did you have in mind?

A drinking game.

But you don’t drink.

And you don’t think.

David shrugged; luckily, there was no one looking at him to notice.

Suggest playing “I Never.”

Really? I hate that game.

More than you hate Eli’s jokes?

“Hey, guys, I was thinking—we should get to know each other better. Who wants to play ‘I Never’?”

Rodney—who usually agreed that Truth-or-Dare-type games should be left to girl’s sleepovers—jumped on the chance to do something other than converse with Eli.

David went first. “I’ve never… drunk strangers’ leftover beers.”

Rodney gave him a strange look. Eli took a drink.

Rodney smiled. “I’ve never blown my wad on a chick’s thigh.”

David’s face turned red and he took a drink.

Eli paused to think of something. “I’ve never cheated on a girl.”

Rodney raised his bottle high in triumph and took a drink.

Am I supposed to drink?

You always say what I do doesn’t count.

David’s turn again. “I’ve never watched my parents have sex.”

Eli looked really uncomfortable for a moment as a scene from his childhood replayed in his mind. He hesitated, but in the end he stayed honest and took a drink.

How do you know this stuff? I thought you couldn’t dig into people’s minds?

I can’t, but people remember random things all the time. Earlier, you suddenly thought of that time in junior high when Mary saw—

Stop! I get it!

Rodney’s turn. “I’ve never had an STD.”

David was surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Eli’s turn. “I’ve never read a girl’s magazine.”

Rodney and David both took a drink.

“I’ve never spilled anything on a mixing board and blamed it on someone else.”

Rodney looked surprised when David made the statement, and then he looked really pissed off when Eli took a drink.

David’s next turn. “I’ve never paid a guy to dump his girlfriend.”

And his turn after that. “I’ve never jerked off into an ex’s food.”

Eli was becoming drunker and more visibly uncomfortable with each round.

David’s following turn. “I’ve never lied about having sex in the booth.”

Rodney took a reluctant drink. Eli didn’t.

What the fuck?

If you knew what he was thinking, you’d have done it, too.

“I’ve never ditched a friend for being gay.”

“I’ve never given my mother’s heirloom necklace to a girl I had a crush on.”

“I’ve never abandoned a date at a stadium so I could take home someone else.”

Eli was too drunk to realize how oddly specific some of these were getting.

“I’ve never had my nose broken by a girl and claimed it happened skateboarding.”

“I’ve never lost a bet that I could seduce my teacher.”

“I’ve never vomited on a girl during sex.”

“I’ve never accidentally taped over a family member’s wedding video.”

“I’ve never—“

Holy shit, are you serious?

Yes.

“—wet myself on a rollercoaster while my girlfriend was sitting next to me.”

Eli, nauseous and unnerved, excused himself and left the bar.

Rodney didn’t know what to say; he just looked at David, his expression a mixture of confusion and awe. David lifted his bottle, smiling, and Rodney returned the gesture. They drank in celebration of the best stupid drinking game they’d ever played.

“If you’re interested in buying the Hydra, then I am legally obligated to tell you that it may or may not breathe fire— “ (it does) “—and it may or may not have eaten a man whole” (it did).

David had recorded a video of the Hydra eating mice and posted it online. He also linked to an article about the police enquiry into whether or not the Hydra was involved in the disappearance of a local protester. Because people will watch anything—and because people love it when a protester gets eaten—the video became popular among cubicle workers and college students. It had prompted a throng of people to visit the store and see the might-be-a-man-eating (the police investigation turned up nothing and charges were never pressed) Hydra in person. One of these people, who obviously had more money than sense, decided to buy a creature that would almost certainly be the death of him.

“You are? Great! Now just sign this waiver agreeing to release Bob’s Pets and its employees from any liability for any fire damage that may occur and to release us from any liability if any person or thing is harmed or eaten. Once you pay for the Hydra in question, Bob’s Pets hands over responsibility of the creature to you. Oh, and initial here.”

David was a little disappointed he never tried using the Hydra for roasting marshmallows, but it was probably for the best; even though it seemed like a brilliant plan, it would probably find some way to go wrong.

There is no way that wouldn’t go wrong.

Yes, it was a terrible plan, and it most definitely would have found some way to go wrong. The attempt probably would have ended with David earning a new nickname, like “Crispy Fingers” or “No-Head Vid.”

The new employee’s shift started after lunch. David grabbed a couple slices from Tossers and tried eating lunch slower than usual, because maybe that would somehow affect the space-time continuum and keep the employee from ever showing up. Despite the sound science behind the idea, it didn’t work.

The new employee turned out to be a girl. She was slim, though not very tall, around 5’5”, with long brown hair she wore back in a ponytail.

“Nice to meet you…” Kit glanced at his nametag. “Vid?”

“Fucking Rodney,” David muttered. Then, he put on his best amiable smile and said, “I’m David.”

Kit had worked at a pet store before. Of course, that one had sold normal animals, whereas Bob’s Pets sold weird shit that no one had any business buying. Kit loved the strange creatures and thought it was going to be great fun working there.

David didn’t know what was wrong with her, but he hoped she wasn’t contagious.