MisStaked (25 page)

It wasn't long before the room again broke out in a wave of hushed mumbles. Stud still had no idea what the hell was going on. Saying to hell with it the chimp pushed his way through the seated throng. He made his way to the front, paused briefly to shoot lard-butt a one-fingered hello. Hey, how good was he expected to be? A chimpanzee had his limits after all. He made it to the front, just as the Canadian official began to speak.

All right, for you purists out there I'm about to step outside the usual voice of this story. Sure some of you might say bad form or some such drivel. But, seeing as how I'm the monkey at the keyboard driving this thing, I figure I can pretty much do what I want. If stepping from a third person narrative to a first person one is my idea of telling the story, that's my prerogative, the Bobby Brown one, not the Brittany Skanks one.

But really, you would have had to see this guy in the flesh to understand why I'm doing this. I'm a good three foot nine in my bare feet and this freak of nature wasn't much taller than me. He was maybe five foot zero, even with his boots on. If that wasn't enough to make you think Darwin was on the right track, he looked more like an ape than I do.

And he was wearing flannel with thermals sticking out from the arms. My God, flannel. Could you ask for a more clichéd look? The hair. The guy's hair was sticking up like wings on either side of his head with the biggest pair of chops cropping his face I'd ever seen. The whole thing looked like somebody had,
Something about Mary
-ed his entire follicle system.

So basically, what we have here is a sawed off runt with bad hair and a flannel fetish. Did I forget to mention the cigar? Well, if I did, I'm sorry. He was chomping, not smoking, the biggest damn cigar I've ever seen. It was big enough to make White House interns run in fear.

Okay, I've said my piece so you all can return to the story and stop looking for my editor to hang for letting me get away with this. Oh, and get a life. If the worse thing you got to bitch about is the voice of a fricking book, consider yourself lucky. I'm due for my monthly flea dip, tomorrow. Top that, you silly bastards.

"The name is Brogan, bub. Not Mr. Brogan. Just, Brogan,” the little man began, drawing more than a few chuckles from the crowd. He snarled but went on. “It's my job to keep you alive and in one piece. Canada is more than hockey pucks and maple leaves. Half of what you'll find in the wilderness will kill you; the other half will make your pants go all squishy, if you know what I mean."

"Well, yes. Uh, Mm—” Dr. Grayson started to say. The man gave her a blood-curdling glare that stopped her in mid-mister. “I mean Brogan. I'm sure we all would love to hear more of your colorful anecdotes, but could you get straight to the regulations from CACA? The time is growing quite late, and I'm sure we'd all like to get settled in. It's been an extremely long trip."

"Sure thing, Toots. Here's the low-down. If I say it's all right, it's all right. If I tell you, no can do, you better stop before I rip your arms off. Is that clear enough for you?” Brogan grinned. “If not, I can draw some insightful diagrams to enlighten you."

Stud rocked back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear. Now this was a man after his own heart. The same family tree, from the looks of it, too.

"So if that's all wrapped up, what say me and you go grab a brew and think about some horizontal Macarena, good looking?” Brogan patted Dr. Grayson on the bottom.

"Mr. Brogan!” Dr. Grayson exclaimed in a high-pitched shriek. “That will be quite enough of your suggestions. Thank you very much."

"No offense intended, Sweet Cheeks. But I feel it only fair to tell you nine out of ten dental hygienists say I'm the best at what I do.” Brogan smirked.

"What about the tenth one?” Stud yelled out. He couldn't help himself. It was just too damn easy.

"His name was Bob,” Brogan snarled. He clearly wasn't in need of a straight man, nor did he want one, but what did Stud care?

"Bob what?” Stud yelled back. God, this was better than a triple banana frappe with a mocha twist. Just the look on ol’ Doc Grayson's face was enough to see him through many a cold night.

"Bob up and kiss my ass. Now, shut the hell up,” Brogan answered. He then turned to Dr. Grayson and snapped, “Could somebody tell that hairy-ass little kid to shut the hell up before I smack his momma blind for having relations with her brother?"

That was it. Sure a joke was a joke, but the freak has just gone too far. International relations be damned, that sawed-off shit-eater had pushed the limits of good taste. Anyway, his father was a third cousin at the very least. Okay, there was an off chance it was really his Uncle Herb, but the tests came back inconclusive.

"Look here, you maple-wrapped pygmy,” Stud growled, as he rushed the stage.

"Who, the hell, are you calling me a pigmy, monkey-butt?” Brogan growled back.

"Unless you got a mouse in your pocket, I guess we can narrow it down to you."

"Okay kid, I'm about five seconds from pulling down your Osh Goshes and teaching you some manners.” Brogan bent down to shove his cigar firmly under Stud's nose.

"That's it. Ain't no way in hell some Canuck shit-wad's gonna teach me manners. Hell, this country hasn't even learned what bacon looks like. Let's take this outside before the women folk see you get your ass handed to you,” Stud said, slapping the cigar straight up the Canadian's nose.

Breathred was used to Stud's tantrums, so at first was not really all too concerned. Most people usually laughed at the chimp's rantings and left him to his own devices. From the looks of this hunk of meat, that wasn't going to be the case. Breathred made a beeline for the bristling pair. He cleared the circle of spectators to find Luna had beaten him there.

"Break it up, you two,” Luna ordered, pushing them apart.

"You the kid's momma?” Brogan asked, giving her more attention than Breathred thought decent, especially the roundy bits he, himself, did his best to ignore.

"No, I'm not. I'm his friend,” Luna said proudly.

"That's a relief ‘cause, if you were, I'd have to double up on my little soldier before we played sink the puck."

Before Breathred knew what was happening, he decked the man. Even decking didn't cover it. It was more correct to say he slammed his fist so hard into the man the guy rebounded off the back wall. It was a toss-up on who was more surprised—Breathred, Stud, Luna, or Brogan. The fact Breathred was drooling and couldn't stop looking at his balled up fist, made him the safe bet.

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Sometimes you have to show the locals who's boss. Otherwise they'll walk all over you.

"You got knocked the fuck out!” Stud howled over the unconscious face of Brogan. “See I told you these Canucks were all talk, no action."

The chimp gasped, as the man's hand shot up and closed around his hairy throat. Through bulging eyes, he looked down to see the man wide awake with a grimace hard enough to crack marble. The man's fingers felt like corded steel, growing tighter with each passing second.

"Okay, Bub. The geek might have got in a cheap shot, but there ain't no chance in hell you're getting away,” Brogan promised, spitting a wad of cigar past the chimp's ear.

Stud saw only two ways out of this. Die with the dignity all primates were instinctively born with. The second way was much harder. Put up a fight to end all fights and leave this world like a man. Naturally Stud went with option one.

Brogan dangled the chimp above him, all set to give the beast a good and lasting throttle, when he felt a warm flood drench his chest and neck. Brogan scrambled to his feet, holding Stud well away from him. His faded flannel shirt was now a rich red it hadn't been in a long number of years. The acidic stench of chimpanzee pee permeated the air about them.

"You tinkled on me,” was all the burly man said.

Stud swung his body toward the man's face. “You know primates have two functional bladders."

Brogan dropped the chimp post-haste. Stud gave him a wink, backing the official up three steps to avoid the chances of another deluge. The ape may be small, but even toddlers shot for distance. Stud could tell the man wasn't sure if the chimp could back up his threat, and didn't look to be one to taking unnecessary chances.

"They do not. Stud, you behave or I'll stomp a mud-hole in you,” Luna warned the monkey.

"It was an accident. He scared me. He's just lucky I got rid of that breakfast burrito before we got here,” Stud whined.

"Mr. Brogan, I hope you'll accept my apologies. They assured me he was housebroken.” Dr. Grayson stepped in.

"Lady, a pissing monkey is one thing, but that S.O.B sucker-punched me.” Brogan's gnarled finger swept the room until it settled on the still-gibbering Breathred. “And this dog ain't taking that."

He took a step toward Breathred, who was still lost in his post-traumatic episode. Brogan got two feet before Luna stepped in his path. The man raised his hand to push her slightly to the left of center. Her eyes locked with his stopping him cold in his tracks. Something in the way she looked at him, made his blood run cold.

"I don't think you want to be doing that,” Luna said.

It wasn't anything Brogan could pinpoint, but he believed her. Taking a deep breath, the scent of the girl filled his sinuses. A faint hint of something rode the wave of air. It was a smell he knew from old. A smell he respected enough to give the girl space. There would be time to see to the boy, when the bit of fluff wasn't around to play bodyguard.

Luna held herself in place waiting for the little man to make his move. She saw the debate raging in his mind. She'd hate to back up that threat, but was willing to do it if he pushed her. After all, Breathred defended her. The least Luna could do was do the same for him.

A collective gasp filled the room when the man turned around and walked out the side door. Luna fell back. Dad-gum-it, that was close. She felt Stud's hand on hers, looked down and gave him a smile. Squeezing her hand, the chimp sat down. Luna dropped beside him. Neither noticed the rest of the room empty once it was clear there would be no fight.

"Uh, Luna. Thanks for, well ... you know,” Stud stammered.

"Forget it. That's what friends are for. Just don't let it happen again. The little guy's trouble in more ways than one,” Luna said, wondering just how much trouble he really was.

Stud bent his head toward Breathred, who was still dribbling puddles on his chin. “Sure thing. What are we going to do about Dufus?"

"Why don't you head on out and let me deal with him? I heard Dr. Grayson say they were heading over to get something to eat.” Luna smiled.

"If you think you'll be alright,” Stud said. From the look on his face he clearly hoped she would be. Luna knew his looks by now to know the chimp was famished or at least thought he was.

"Go on. Just be good. I won't be there to save your bacon this time."

"You got it,” he said, running for the door.

Luna watched him go in a detached sort of way. She suddenly felt the need to be alone with Breathred. A lot was happening and none of it was his fault, yet she was blaming him. The girl just wished she knew how to make it right again.

She rose from her seat and walked over to Breathred. He was in the same position he had been in since decking Brogan. Breathred had surprised her by doing it. Except for the mall with those vampires, she had never seen him so much as swat a fly. Luna wished she could attribute his actions to his undying love, but was realistic. Breathred was not a man ruled by his emotions, unless it came to comic books. No, he was just defending his friends against harm.

Sure, he'd agreed to be her boyfriend, but love was different. She loved him. Luna made no bones about admitting her emotional attachment. Breathred, while he felt something for her, was not ready to admit undying love. Luna knew it, but a girl could dream.

And daydreaming was all she was doing. One day the dream would come true, but not today. She had better get Breathred unwound. The goob was going to run out drool, if she didn't.

"Breathy, baby. Snap out of it.” Luna popped her fingers in front of his face.

Breathred heard her, but was unable to respond. He had hit another human being. Not in the ‘Hey there's a Volzwagon, slug bug’ way but had lashed out in pure, unadulterated anger. He had never done something so evil before. Breathred might have wanted to, but never had. But, when the man said that dirty, dirty thing to Luna, he'd flipped out.

Breathred couldn't stand the thought of anyone talking to her that way. You could almost see the man's filthy little parts tingling as he spoke to her. Still, it was no reason to punch the man. You were supposed to act civilized, not resort to brute force to inflict your will.

But, it had felt so good. Breathred could still feel the crunch of the man's cheek against his knuckles. There was even the crunch from bone breaking when the fist connected. No, he had to stop thinking like that. It wasn't good. It was bad. Bad Breathred! Sister Marie Angelle said bad Breathreds went to h-e-l-l. He sure didn't want to go there. His skin burned so easily.

"Breathred, look at me. You have to come out of it. All you did was punch a creep, that's all,” Luna cried in his ear.

Her tears broke the spell. Breathred slowly turned to her and found tears of his own running down his face. “I didn't mean to do it. He just made me so mad, when he said those things to you."

"It's okay, Sweetie. I know you didn't mean to hit him, but thank you for doing it."

"You're not mad at me for being a brute?"

"Of course not. I thought it was quite nice to see you defending my honor.” She stroked his cheek.

Breathred smiled, wiping his nose with the back of a hand. “You did?"

"You're my boyfriend, now. It's your job to do things like that."

"It is? I thought women didn't want you to do that nowadays."

Luna reached up and wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “Those girls are crazy. I'm more the romance novel heroine type. I can take care of myself, but it's nice to know I have somebody looking out for me."