The Humdrum Lives of Cryptids, Monsters, and Villains
they would be able to come to any consensus on the matter during a thirty minute televised program, when the issue had divided and tormented the cryptid population since time immemorial.
"You're right. No talk shows either. What does that leave us?" Gerald asked.
"Well, there are sitcoms...."
"I like sitcoms, but are people really going to want to watch a sitcom that they come into halfway through? And they're so dialogue heavy that we'd need to keep the volume high."
"Good points," Steven said, somewhat sadly. He would have liked to have been able to watch "You May Be Right, But I'm The Sea Monster", his favorite cryptid sitcom about a sea monster that was the headmaster of a boarding school located on a decommissioned aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean. It was not important what he wanted to watch, he realized. "Okay, so sitcoms are out too. What else is there?"
They turned the channel and the screen displayed an animated sun with a cloud in front of it, along with two sets of numbers displaying the high and low temperature for the day. Light generic jazz music played in the background.
"Well, it's definitely not biased," Gerald offered.
"Yeah, but it's not very interesting either, is it?" Steven said, as he watched the sun transition into an animated full moon on the screen. Something distinctly werewolf burgeoned deep within the essence of his being, but he stifled it immediately, focusing on the task at hand. "Maybe this would be a good channel to keep it on in the morning, you know?"
"Yeah I like that idea. I'm more concerned with the weather when I'm starting out my day," Gerald said as he flipped the channel again, landing on a station that broadcasted music videos. He raised his twig eyebrows and turned to the werewolf, smiling. Gerald was a fiend for music of all varieties, and quite an accomplished musician himself, but Steven was unsure about this choice as well.
"I feel like we would encounter the problem of splitting our customers again. Some people are so picky when it comes to their music… snobbish even," Steven said. Gerald pursed his lips, his smile gone, and changed the channel. It was a station that only broadcasted cartoons. Steven took a deep excited breath, and turned to Gerald.
"No way. No cartoons. This is a cafe for adult cryptids, not some after school soda shop," Gerald said harshly. Steven's feelings were kind of hurt by this. Adults could like cartoons too... And how outdated was Gerald's notions of what young cryptids did after school? Soda shop? Were there still even soda shops around? Steven began to wonder how old Gerald was. He had never asked and Gerald had never told him. He supposed he could flip him over and count his rings if he ever got really curious.
The channel changed again, and the screen displayed a video of a babbling stream. Steven raised his eyebrows and watched the serene scene. He and Gerald did not speak for a minute or so, until the scene changed to a faraway shot of a foggy mountain.
"This seems like a good option... Yes! I like this one. This is it!" Steven said triumphantly. Gerald seemed intrigued, but not quite sold on the idea yet.
"I don't know... We're already in the middle of the forest. Don't you think it's ironic that we'd be showing forest scenes on the television when we're in the forest to begin with?" Gerald asked skeptically.
"That's what's so brilliant about it! I think the customers would appreciate the irony. Cryptids that hang out in cafes tend to like irony."
"If you say so," Gerald said. He still did not sound as though he was completely on board with the idea, but he left the television on the nature channel and put the remote behind the counter as a shot from high within a windswept tree displayed on the screen. "Once we're consistently busy we won't have to worry about the television at all. The cafe will be making its own noise, you know?"
Steven nodded, hoping that time would come soon. He had envisioned this cafe as a bustling hub for cryptids of all varieties, alive with sound and cheer and the smell of coffee and baked goods. The bell over the door rang and both Gerald and Steven turned around quickly. Another werewolf had just entered the cafe.
"Welcome!" Steven growled jubilantly. He wondered whether or not he should inform the werewolf that she was the first customer that the Cryptid Cafe had ever had, but decided against it. He wanted her to think that this was only a lull in business and that the cafe had not been deserted since they had opened that evening. "Welcome to the Cryptid Cafe. What can we get for you?"
"Hmm," the werewolf snarled, seemingly deep in thought as she glared up at the menu above the countertop. Twigs and thorns were embedded in the thick fur throughout her body. She had likely been running wild through the woods ever since the full moon had risen above the hills that evening. Steven knew that she must be hungry. "I'd like two scones and a cup of coffee with cream but no sugar. And put one ice cube in the cup of coffee please," she growled at Gerald, who stood behind the counter.
Gerald looked as though he was trying valiantly to hide his fear, but not quite pulling it off. He was used to Steven, but unfamiliar werewolves seemed to still be a problem for him. He glanced at Steven out of the corner his eye. Steven nodded his head reassuringly, and winked his bloodshot yellow eyes.
"That will be four Crypto Units, please," Gerald said, his voice shaking. The werewolf extracted four bills from within the folds of her fur and pushed them across the counter, her gnarled claws clanking against the countertop. Gerald opened the cash register and placed the bills inside. Steven walked around the counter and took one of the Crypto Unit bills from the cash register, with the intent to frame it later as his first Crypto Unit earned at his new business. Gerald set about making the cup of coffee, and Steven walked into the kitchen to the ovens to retrieve the scones. They still had two minutes left to bake.
"Excuse me, ma'am," Steven said in his most polite growl. "The scones still need to bake for another two minutes. I'm sorry for the wait, but they'll be extra fresh!"
"That's fine," she snarled, spraying drool on the floor and windows, as she looked around the cafe. "I like that you chose the nature channel. That's so kitsch." she said, inclining her wolfish head toward the television set.
"Thanks!" Steven said, baring his fangs in a grin at Gerald, who was shaking his head in a bewildered fashion as he added cream to her coffee. He was glad that he had made the right decision about the nature channel, but decided not to gloat anymore. He retreated to the freezer to retrieve a tray of ice for the werewolf's coffee.
Steven held the tray of ice cubes between his forepaws and walked slowly and carefully on his hind legs toward Gerald, who had finished the coffee aside from the ice cube. As he walked past the oven, the timer went off. It startled him, causing the ice tray to slip from his hands and cascade the floor with ice cubes as he began to howl involuntarily. As he started howling, the other werewolf joined him. Their howls combined in a terrifying harmony that reverberated off the tiles, windows, and countertops of the cafe.
By the time that Steven had stopped himself from howling, the oven timer had finished buzzing. He looked over the countertop and saw that two unicorns were frozen in fear right outside the door of the cafe. It looked as though they were rethinking their decision to come inside after they heard the werewolf howls. He bounded around the counter toward the door, intending to assure the unicorns that there was no need to be afraid, but upon seeing him they turned and galloped away, whinnying and neighing loudly as they disappeared outside of the light cast by the electric signs on the cafe.
Steven returned to the kitchen area with his tail between his legs, and his protruding shoulder blades slumped. He reflected sadly on the terrified looks on the unicorns' faces as he picked up each ice cube that had fallen to the floor in his teeth and dropped them in the sink.
"I'll get more ice," Gerald whispered consolingly. "Get the scones out of the oven before they burn."
Steven had completely forgotten the scones during the appearance of two new prospective customers. He put his paws into paw shaped oven mitts and removed the hot pan of scones from the oven. They were a l
ight golden brown, and steam rose in curls above them. The smell was intoxicating and it distracted him from the loss of the unicorn customers.
He placed the pan of scones on the countertop so that their scent would fill the cafe, and put two of them onto a plate for his customer. Gerald dropped an ice cube into her cup of coffee, and the two of them delivered the plate of scones and the mug of coffee to the small wooden table she was sitting at.
"These smell lovely," she growled as the steam rising from the scones visibly entered her nostrils. She took a bite, and her yellowed eyes rolled into the back of her head in ecstasy. "Oh wow... They taste even better than they smell."
"Thanks!" Steven and Gerald said simultaneously. They were both ecstatic about the reception from their first customer.
"Let us know if you need anything else," Gerald said, his squeaky voice now filled with confidence.
The bell above the door rang again and another werewolf entered. She was greeted by the werewolf who had just received her order. "Hey! You got my text. I'm glad you could make it. Isn't this little place great?"
"It smells heavenly in here," the newly arrived werewolf growled, her hackles raised and her teeth bared. "And is that the nature channel playing? That is hilarious. I love this place already. I'm going to