“Yes, but?—”
“Force him to disembowel himself and revel in his shame!”
“Okay, but we need to ask him questions first!”
“Yes, but thenshame!”
Pod Mr. Heiss had a good head start on them, but the crowd was enough to slow him down. He got caught up in a cluster leaving from the bar area, and he shouted angrily, pushing at the monsters blocking his path.
A door by the bar opened, no doubt the kitchen, as Marcus emerged juggling three trays packed with food. Judging by the sheer amount of steaks, it had to be theirs.
And Pod Mr. Heiss was headed right for him.
Seymour could see the incoming disaster with no way to stop it, cringing as Marcus and Pod Mr. Heiss collided in an explosion of flying plates and meat.
Marcus remained standing, but Pod Mr. Heiss was knocked to the floor. Marcus squeaked in terror, flailing as he tried to help him up. “Mr. Heiss! I am so, so, so sorry! There are not words to express how sorry?—”
“Get away!” Pod Mr. Heiss shrieked and fumbled to his feet.
Sariel dove forward to grab his shoulder, fast as lightning, and Day launched herself right at his face with a fierce yowl.
Pod Mr. Heiss screamed again, though it was difficult to pinpoint if it was the very angry angel or the invisible cat demon fueling his terror.
Probably both.
“What the hell?” Marcus yelped.
“Official, uh, Mostro family type business!” Seymour replied. “Just stay back! Everybody stay back and stay calm?—”
The crowd decided that was the moment to do the exact opposite and erupted in a frenzied panic. The majority surged toward the front doors, and two large monsters in suits, presumably bouncers or some other members of the staff, were immediately swallowed up.
Pod Mr. Heiss promptly melted into a black puddle of goo, and he quite literally slipped through Sariel’s and Day’s grasp. He wiggled forward and vanished into the bustle of the monsters all trying to get outside.
Day snarled and gave chase before Seymour or Sariel could stop her, as she could also literally cut through the sea of patrons.
Damn ghost kitty girls!
“Fuck.” Seymour growled. “We gotta get outside!”
“With me!” Sariel grabbed Seymour’s arm. “There’s an exit through the kitchen!”
Marcus looked helplessly confused. “Are you guys not gonna eat?”
“Later, Marcus!” Seymour called out over his shoulder, following Sariel’s lead into the kitchen.
It was a steaming dungeon with chains hanging from the ceiling, roaring fires, and surprisingly modern stainless steel appliances. There was a large spider beast chopping up vegetables while simultaneously dropping a basket into a fryer and flipping pasta in a frying pan. The spider paid them no mind, far too focused on the multiple dishes they had cooking.
Dagobert was there reviewing order tickets, however, and he stared at Sariel and Seymour bolting by with a mixture of disgust and shock. “Excuse me?”
“Squick! Pretendin’ to be Mr. Heiss! Bad! Lots of bad!” Seymour called out as they zoomed toward the big steel exit door. “Very bad!”
“Squonk!” Sariel sighed haggardly. “It’s asquonk!”
“Whatever!”
Dagobert sputtered. “What in the?—”
Seymour didn’t bother sticking around to hear what else Dagobert had to say. The door opened up into the darkness atthe back of the club, and Seymour whipped his head around to get his bearings.
