The man on his right is sporting a lederhosen hat and an apron. He gives me a goofy grin of recognition. Kenshin. The guy supporting Hamlet on the left has a white apron too and a chef’s hat over his fiery, red hair. Monty, of course.
Monty and Kenshin haul a wobbly Hamlet over to the bar and force him to sit on a stool. After fixing Hamlet’s limp limbs, they sit too, sandwiching me between them, and consider us with sad smiles.
"What happened to him?”
“Tis’ a sad story, mate,” Monty shakes his head, making his chef’s hat go lopsided. Kenshin reaches over my head to fix it for him.
“Hic,” agrees Hamlet with a vague glance at me. Well, I think it’s agreement…
When Dawn sighs, Monty and Kenshin chime, “Hey Dawn! And frog-headed person we don’t know!” Ever since they started a bakery business together, they’ve been the best of chums. But sometimes their chummery goes a bit too far…
“Be nice!” I warn them. Ava’s head is already bowed, her shoulders stiff with fear.
“We are nice,” Kenshin protests, elbowing Dawn lightly. “Right, right?”
“Not really,” she says with utter honesty.
Both Kenshin and Monty sigh. “We offered him,” Monty gestures with his eyebrows to Hamlet, “an apple pie to comfort him but instead he drank himself into oblivion.”
“Why?” I stand and peer into Hamlet’s green eyes. Despair and desperation. I knew something was up! My instincts are never wrong! Well, actually, they usually are, but not this time.
“Because he’s…” Kenshin begins.
“NO!* gurgles Hamlet, making an effort to rise before flopping back onto his seat. Monty pats Hamlet’s head, and Hamlet give him THE death glare. I don’t think anyone has perfected that look better than Hamlet has. It’s usually reserved for when you come too close to his leather pack, where he keeps a stash of goldpieces.
“If you were—” Monty begins.
Hamlet groans, covering up Monty’s last word.
“It’d be okay,” Kenshin singsongs. “I mean, ‘cause hey, we’d like you anyway!”
“Shut up,” I say.
28-Sep-2010 04:08:41
