Grups’ thick and thunderous feet make quick work of the distance between the nursery and the bar. The thick white diaper clearly on display on him makes him look like the Hulk.
Bouncing with each step is Jacob, held tightly in his arms. Jacob clutches tightly to the leaf, the coin, and the still-warm panties. He is naked other than a diaper, like Grup. Unlike Grup, they don’t make him look like a superhuman; instead, they make him look like the awkward guy who decides to dress like Baby New Year.
Sue shouts, “Make way for the green mountain!” She meant it as helpful, but now that people are turning to look, they are not moving out of the way fast enough.
Grup holds his hand out with fingers extended in a stop motion like someone from the sport where you grab balls and run down the field. He barrels across the room, his goal of winning back the love of his life burning in his soul. His heart was beating long and hard as they burst into the bar.
The Cat, sporting Fenix Fox ears today, flicks one as he hears them approach; he turns and grins ear to ear at the sight of the dynamic duo.
Mars is sitting at the bar with a self-satisfied look on his face. His clothes are still tattered, but now he is wearing a towel around his waist To hide the fact he’s naked underneath
One guest is trying to figure out how to file a complaint to Jack Harrington for the trauma of seeing a nearly naked Mars storm into the room with a flamingo following suit.
The kitsune smiles at Jacob and Grup as she sets down a plate of shrimp cocktail in front of the flamingo.
The flamingo coolly picks up a shrimp and dunks it in the sauce before gobbling it down.
“It looks like you’re in second place,” the Cat says, holding back his laughter at the ridiculousness of the pair.
“We will win; look at our stuff!” Grup says triumphantly.
Jacob puts the coin on the counter, then the leaf, then the coveted panties.
“I will look and decide if you are worthy,” says the Cat, feeling the enthusiasm from the warrior.
The Cat eyes the coin. “It’s definitely old.” He goes to the next object; he holds up the leaf. “That’s the genuine article. I had the lifeguards work late last night to put the flower box in…”
The Cat flicks his eyes at Mars. “I was disappointed you did not find it, but it is delightful to own a real phoenix feather.”
Jacob, who joined this party with no skin in the game, is now so invested he wants to bite his nails with stress. “But what about the panties?” he asks.
The Cat looks at them. “They look like the real deal. Why?” He picks them up with a single fingernail and turns them around, slowly examining them.
“Mars didn’t bring Audrey’s panties; he brought biking shorts.” Jacob holds his hand up for Grup to high-five.
Grup looks at him and curls a lip. “She informed us she gave Mars fake panties,” Grup hears Jacob say. Grup slaps the counter gently for emphasis to reinforce his teammates’ position.
The Cat looks confused. “Well, that would be a shake-up.” He grabs the biker shorts that Mars brought and examines them closer.
Mars reaches over to grab them and take them back, but the Cat shows his teeth for a moment. Mars pulls back his hand, visions of what they could do to him dancing in his head.
The Cat grabs the bell telephone from under the bar and dials the number for the nursery.
Audrey wakes and answers.
“Hello, Audrey,” the cat says into the phone.
“Hello, abomination,” Audrey says in a flirty voice tinged with venom. “Did you call to brag?”
“Not at all. I called to confirm the authenticity of a pair of panties.” The Cat says his words dancing like they are spoken to music.
“It was a mistake putting a bounty on my panties,” Audrey says in her robotic tone.
“Yes, yes, I made a mistake,” the Cat says, adjusting his purple bowtie.
“Mistakes happen,” Audrey says, the ingenuine smile audible in her voice.
“Well, murder me later. Did Mars steal your bike shorts? Instead of your panties?” the cat asks, dismissing her threat.
“Yes, and the only one who was able to get my real panties is my Jacob,” she says, her mood lifted.
“Oh really?” The Cat side-eyes Mars, who looks back nervously.
“I’ll be waiting to get my revenge, feline,” Audrey says quietly, so quietly her voice is a roar.
“I’ll be waiting.” The Cat grins.
The Cat hangs up the phone. “In an unforeseen turn of events!” he announces.
“No, I am the winner,” Mars seethes.
“I declare team Grob The winner, Mingo, is now disqualified!” The Cat says, and the room shrugs their shoulders.
Mars slams his fist on the bar, an almost imperceptible hairline crack forming on its surface. The cat’s ears perk up, and he walks over to examine the spot; he wipes it with his dishcloth. Mars gets up and storms out of the room.
“Hey, when’s the Concert Cat?” The cleaner yells from the back, “I am the biggest fan of Psyche,” he croons.
