I think the coffee house has clued in
Mar. 28th, 2025 09:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessToday I grabbed a table away from the religious crew (haha, beat you to it) and I was scanning for a table further away. The barista noticed and asked me about it. I said I didn't want to be where they were talking so loud and she gave me a knowing nod. However I noticed they had the music WAY up, much louder than usual and did not turn it down so I'm wondering if others were complaining about faith and fitness being too loud. I don't blame them for having them as customers so drown 'em out.
I wrote something!
Title: Nothin' But a Good Time
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Summary: After Angel called Cherri in a bad way after a particularly vicious shoot, she decides he needs to be shown a good time so he can relax and remember he has friends and he can find things to enjoy even in hell.
Rating: teen
Author Note - Written out of inspiration after seeing borzoieyes’ art series The Concept of Home Doesn’t Belong to Me This was taken from chapter six which you can see right here.. Go look at how great it is (and the whole series). They kindly gave permission for me to write a story for that scene (thank you!!) and I had fun with it (especially as I love a video arcade!)
Don't need nothin' but a good time
How can I resist
Ain't lookin' for nothin' but a good time
And it don't get better than this
Nothin' But a Good Time by Poison
The door banging startled Angel awake, utterly unprepared for Cherri’s loud, “Angie, get your little ass up!”
Angel groaned, burrowing deeper into his bedding that stank of sweat, blood, cigarettes and whatever the fuck he’d been wrecking himself with last night. He jutted an arm around in front of him, grateful not to hit somebody he wasn’t expecting next to him. Last night had been a complete blur but at some point, he had called Cherri crying over Val again. His bones ached and the last thing he wanted was to get out of bed. “Why did I give you a key again?” he muttered into his pillow.
“You wanted me to be able to take care of Nuggs if you ended up in a respawn,” she replied cheerily, shutting the door more reasonably this time.
“Did I say slam my doors?”
“I tried waking you up but you were having none of it. And I wasn’t getting closer. You hit and bite when someone shakes you awake.” She rolled her giant eye.
So used to being manhandled in his sleep, Angel had reflexively started striking out when people bothered him when he was out. Valentino would send in a minion if he needed Angel to be awoken. He groaned again, smacking his lips. “Think something died in my mouth.”
“Did you brush after you left work?”
He sat up; the desperately-needs-washing sheet slipped down his torso, puddling at his hips. Cherri sucked in a breath, seeing the bruises on him, the whip marks, probably a fang mark or two if he remembered the evening right. “Went right from a vicious shoot to the bar and somehow got home, so probably not.”
“Well, go do your morning rituals, babe. I brought breakfast.” She shook a bag at him.
His hungover stomach roiled at the thought of food. “Not sure I’m up for that.”
“Eh, it’s Anzac Day if I have the timing right. Kinda hard to tell sometimes what day it will be back in the living world. Guess it don’t matter.” Cherri shrugged and sat at his little table set. “It’s just some Anzac biscuits and gunfire.”
He eyed her curiously. “Huh?”
“Tea and rum but I know you Italians like your coffee, so coffee and rum.” Cherri brandished the thermos in her hand. “I ain’t much of a cook but I like to bake. I’m not promising the biscuits are good, hard to find some things like golden syrup down here.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Angel swung out of bed and stumbled bare-assed naked to his bathroom.
He peed in the cracked toilet and decided he was entirely too stinky and crusty to inflict on his friend so he jumped into the shower and scrubbed quickly with Fuzzy Pink Handcuffs bodywash, the scent of cotton candy, vanilla, and candied roses filling the small shower stall. Incredibly damp, he pulled on a robe and rejoined her, slumping down at his table. Fat Nuggets busily chowed down in the corner.
“I fed him,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “You gonna dry all frizzy?”
He rubbed at his damp fuzz. “Maybe. Thanks for breakfast. What the hell is Anzac Day?”
Cherri shrugged. “Some Australian war memorial thing. My dad, granddad and great gran were all military men and it was a big thing to them. I was a disappointment, too wild for them.” She snorted and poured him some coffee from the thermos.
Like any proper Italian, he dipped the cookie she gave him into the rum-upped coffee. He savored it. “Not bad. Maybe not a Saint Joseph zeppole but good.”
“What the hell’s a zeppole?”
“Basically, those donut hole things but a Saint Joseph zeppole is more like a creampuff. And I’m not surprised you can bake, babe.” Angel snagged another cookie. “You mix up bomb ingredients like a pro. Baking’s all about precise ingredients and mixing. That’s why I prefer cooking, just slop it in and hope for the best. So…I know you didn’t show up to give me liquored up coffee and to celebrate some memorial holiday I ain’t never heard of.”
Cherri reached across the table and patted his hand. “You were really melting down last night, Ange. I was worried about you and I couldn’t get free to come check on you. Figured you wouldn’t be up early so I got up, baked, and came over to make sure you were okay. You ain’t okay.”
He smiled softly. “Nah, not at all but thanks, Cherri. I mean it.”
“And I wanted to get you out of here and out of your head, which is up your ass right now, or maybe up Valentino’s.” She glared at him. “You need a holiday.”
“I got a few days off right now. I got so mad at the guy raw dogging me into the floorboards to the point I had to keep breaking scene trying to get away from him, that finally I hauled off and envenomated his ass.”
Cherri smothered a snort. “Really?”
“Nah, didn’t bite his ass. I bit his cock.” Angel smirked. “Blew up like an eggplant, and he was howling like it was gonna fall off. It just might. My venom is nothing to piss around with. Can’t say I didn’t warn everyone I was gonna do it.” Angel slurped down his coffee then pushed his mug toward her hopefully. “I was bleeding pretty heavily too so Val took what little pity he has and gave me a few days off to recover.
“Good, so when you’re not soaking ass wet, you’re dressing up and we’re going out.” Cherri poked him in the chest. “Gimme Nuggs’ harness.”
“Where are we going?”
“Like I said, somewhere to get you out of your head and out of everyone’s bed. You look like you could use a rest. We’ll get a picnic lunch and then I have a surprise for you.”
Angel made a face, sipping more coffee. “The surprise will be surviving the picnic lunch unmolested. Last time I went to Pentagram Park, I got mobbed by fans.”
Cherri pulled a small bomb from her pocket and grinned. “Let ’em try.”
Angel chuckled, his mood lifting a bit. “That sounds like fun. Lemme finish my coffee and I’ll dress. I can go out damp. Hell’s gonna be hot today. I’ll dry.”
In spite of that declaration, he did pop himself under his heat lamp while Cherri rummaged through his clothing to find something for him to wear. He didn’t want to look totally frizzy if he dried naturally. She picked the cutest damn ensemble, a pleated skirt that kissed his lower thighs, heeled ankle boots and a form hugging halter top that accented his tit window just right. The outfit was a pale, almost silvery pink.
As he was fixing his makeup, she held up three harnesses. “Which one?”
“Purple!”
“You have three purples. Here, let’s go with the lurid one. Come here, Fat Nuggets.” Cherri clicked her tongue at him and Angel’s baby waddled over and obediently let her put the harness on him.
Angel took his leash and they all sailed out the door into adventure.
# # #
“It’s a nice day, as far as they get nice in hell,” he said, brandishing his dill pickle on a stick while Cherri looked around for a good spot to sit and eat.
“Why a pickle of all things?” she asked.
“I love pickles. I used to love the owl carts back in Brooklyn. Used to save up my pennies to run after the ones selling knishes. Less excited about buying apples or potatoes during the Depression but heaven help us if someone knew my family had money, might have turned in our mobbed-up asses outta spite. Then came that dumb Dago, Mayor LaGuardia. Good ol’ Fiorello, wanted to clean up the ‘blight’ of street vendors, dumb ass. I had an Uncle Fiorello. He’s down here helping Henroin.” Angel stopped his ramble and hurried to a vendor under a tree. “Look, Cherri, Piadina Romagnola”
“What’s that and you yelled when I used the word Dago.”
“I am one. I can say it. See, piadina.” Angel gestured to the vendor.
He chose the flatbread sandwich rich with fruit and cheese and let Cherri lead him to a place where what passed as sunlight in hell could warm them. She unfurled a blanket and they both sat down on it. Angel devoured his piadina first, sharing a bit with Cherri and another bite with Nuggs. He was about to eat his pickle when someone called out.
“Gonna do something vulgar with that, Angel Dust?”
“I’m off duty, loves,” he shouted back but seeing a group of his fans watching him, he wrapped his long tongue around part of the pickle, letting them take a picture. Thankfully they moved off after they got what they wanted and he ate his pickle in peace.
Afterward, he stretched out on the blanket, next to Cherri, and Fat Nuggets curled up on his belly. He stroked his pet’s warm back. “This is nice, Cherri. Thanks for thinking of it.”
“You’re welcome. Gotta take care of my best bitch, don’t I?”
“I appreciate it. Now, what’s my surprise?”
“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise now will it?”
Angel had to be content with that. The line of coke he did after baking in the sun for a while, helped. He wasn’t a big fan of surprises, having been on the end of too many bad ones but he knew Cherri wouldn’t hurt him. He could wait impatiently, no problems.
# # #
“What is this place?” Angel stared into the building in shock. Lights and sounds almost knocked him back through the doorway.
“It’s an arcade. What’s it look like?”
“Not like a penny arcade. Where’s the fortune tellers or the strength testers? The all-win machine? The love machine? This is an assault on the senses.”
Cherri laughed. “I keep forgetting you’re a dinosaur. Come on, grandpa, let me show you how we played in my day.”
“I never lived long enough to be a grandpa,” he protested as Cherri dragged him and Fat Nuggets along. “Though, I guess I would have been your nonno’s age.”
“Breaks the brain to think about it.” Cherri smirked. “Have you seriously never played a video game?”
“I’ve never had much reason to.” Angel cupped his hands over his head. He didn’t have ears per se but it helped to muffle the nonstop noise some. “Playing shouldn’t be this loud, should it?”
“Relax. Here.” She dug in her pocket and handed him some pills. “This’ll help. I know back in your day you were probably excited to get that sixty-four box of crayons, probably felt like a bigshot, like you had gotten an Atari or something.”
He palmed the pills, not sure he wanted to add psychedelics to the sensory overload he was experiencing. Fat Nuggets was completely nonplussed, poking around curiously. He needed to be more like his pig. “Sixty-four? Wait, Crayons started coming in a sixty-four pack? We only got twenty-four and your twin would steal all the good colors. All you’d get was white and grey or some shit.”
Cherri snorted. “I got neon colors. You’d have loved it, gramps.”
Angel glared at her.
“Bet you fought your sister over the toy in the Cracker Jacks box.”
“We each got our own. I had to fight my brother for the toy in the Cracker Jacks. He was too old for them but Nissy was a dick so he’d take mine. Then Papi would get pissed about the noise and whip both of us and break the toy.”
“That is super sad. Oh look, come on!” Cherri pulled him along again. “It’s an actual Galaga game! How did they even get this?”
“What is it?”
“Only the best game going. I ditched school to play this for hours.”
Cherri put some money in the machine and demonstrated how to shoot all the things flying around the screen. Her fingers made all the button pushing and joystick maneuvering look easy. The graphics were weird and he didn’t really see how this was fun. The little ‘aliens’ killed him easily, each time.
“Fuck!” He lost and she plugged in more money so he could try again. “I was thinking about all the wiring in here. Glad I’m with you and not some guy Val would get jealous over. Vox could be watching through all of this.”
“I think he owns this actually. Don’t worry about Val so much, Angel. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
He could correct her because he didn’t need to do anything wrong for Val to get upset. Sometimes it was enough that Angel glanced at a guy for a second too long. Angel grimaced as he died again. “Fuck!”
Cherri laughed loudly. “How can someone with so many hands have hand-eye coordination this heinous? I thought you were my bad-ass bitch!”
“Hey, you try controlling this many limbs,” Angel huffed and dug a snack out of his purse for Nuggs who was getting restless. “You know how good my hand-eye coordination actually is. If you need a reminder, let’s go shoot up Pentious again.”
She laughed harder. “It doesn’t take much to hit a giant airship, Pinkie.”
“What about his eggs? They’re small.”
“And slow.” Her brow wrinkled. “Where does he get them? Does he lay them? Can sinners do that?”
“I have no idea. Don’t wanna know. Goddamn it!” He slapped the side of the machine as he lost again. “Are you sure this is my surprise?”
“I think the surprise is how much you suck, granny.”
He popped open his secondary eyes but the threat rolled right off her. “It’s my first time.”
“Man, how long has it been since you’ve said that sentence?” Cherri cackled at him.
Angel snorted. “Way too long.”
“Here, let’s go try that one.” She pointed across the room and accosted the sinner playing something called Tempest, moving her on.
This game had just one large trackball that he had to manipulate swinging from one side of a V-shaped alleyway to the other. He was marginally better at that. Angel lit up a cigarette while Cherri made it look easy. He might suck but he had to admit, at least he wasn’t thinking about Val anymore. He scanned the arcade as she played. Angel smiled around his cigarette filter.
“Hey, sugar tits, how about that one?” He pointed to a two-person shooter game.
“Oooo, those are fun. They have storylines and everything. Wanna try?”
Angel eyed the pistols on the thing showing zombies on its graphics and grinned ferally. “Damn straight I do.”
“Hey, grandpa, you know what a zombie is?”
Angel fixed his halter strap. “I was eighteen when White Zombie came out in 1932. I love horror movies. I took Molly to see it because she loved them too. Nissy went with us.” He leaned closer. “He was such a scaredy cat about horror. Don’t let him know I told you.”
“I’ve only seen your brother once. I didn’t think he’d be scared of anything.” She made a face. “Or ever had an ounce of fun in his life.”
“Mostly true but he couldn’t handle jump scares. Probably because of what happened to him growing up. You never knew what shadow Papi would melt outta and beat the shit out of you for not performing up to his stupid standards.” Angel sighed. “Enough of that shit. Leave it as that movie was kinda bad as was Revolt of the Zombies a few years later. Ready?”
“Born ready, babe.”
Before they could claim the game, three large bull men grabbed it. Angel groaned but Cherri pushed him toward a different one. This one had dinosaurs and pterodactyls in the graphics.
“This works the same way. You’ll like it,” she said.”
Together they read the instructions on the screen. Angel flicked his gun to the side to get the feel of how he could auto-reload it. Yep, this felt way more natural to him than a joystick and buttons.
They started the game. It took Angel a few minutes and their second round of plugging in money to get his rhythm but once he got it, he was unstoppable. He burned through the screens and storyline long after Cherri wiped out.
“Show off!” She playfully kicked at him and he swatted her foot gently. Fat Nuggets tried to climb up the machine curious and wanting attention.
Cherri squatted down and pet the pig as Angel went back to slaughtering pterodactyls.
“I’m good with a gun, babe.”
Of course, being good with a gun was how he ended up in hell but what was a mafia-born boy to do? As he racked up points, a crowd formed, watching him. Across the arcade another crowd was forming around another machine. Angel caught sight of that with his secondary eyes. Cheers and chants went up.
“Keep going,” Cherri encouraged. “You’re going for the high score!”
Angel gritted his fangs and kept shooting, his mood lifting. Cherri was right. Some of these games were a blast. Finally, he was dead and she turned him back around on his heels as he was about to leave.
“Put your name in there, Angelcakes.”
“Huh?”
“Here.” She took the gun from him and used it to fire away at letters to put his name on the screen. “Look at that score. You won’t be beat for a while unless you come back and get more time on the game.”
He chuckled. “I might.”
Another loud cheer went up.
“Two shooter high scores at once,” a young woman with ram horns said. “What are the chances?”
Angel peered over to the other high scorer, unable to see who it was until the crowd parted to let the little spider, puffing furiously on his cigarette, to step away from the game. He snorted. “Chances are good.”
Angel gave Fat Nuggets’ leash a little tug. “I think I’d like to run Nuggs home and go out dancing, Cherri, unless you have more planned.”
“That sounds great.”
Walking swiftly, Angel pulled up next to the other spider sinner leaving the arcade. “Nice shooting, brother.”
Arackniss glanced up at him and blew a smoke ring. “So, it was you on the other game, thought so. It was hard to see over everyone and if you make a short joke….”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Thirty jokes rolled through his mind at once.
“Nice shoes, they’re so you,” Arackniss said and it sounded genuine. “Hey Cherri….and I forgot your pig’s name.”
“Your Uncle Nissy is awful, isn’t he?” Angel scooped up Nuggs. “Fat Nuggets.”
Eight ruby eyes rolled in concert. “Can’t believe you walk a pig through hell.”
“He is a hell pig.”
Arackniss shrugged and stopped at a car that bore a resemblance to what they used to drive in the 30s. “Nice seeing you, little brother.”
“Take care, Niss.”
Angel let it drop there as he followed Cherri back to her car, one he had never seen before; one he suspected she’d stolen for the outing. As he climbed in next to her, his mind swirled as he mulled over their club options for the night and as he tried to remember what his drug-addled brain had processed about Val’s plans for the rest of the week. He didn’t want to cross paths with him on his night off.
“Cherri, this was fun,” he said, a well of emotion washing up. “I needed this. Thanks for thinking of me and taking care of me. Sometimes I really need a friend.”
“We all do, babe, and like I said, you’re my best bitch. I have to take care of you.” She turned the key in the ignition and then studied him. “Hey, no getting sad on me now, Angie. You’re okay. You can handle so much with so much style and class. You kinda amaze me.”
He smiled, scrubbing at his watery eyes. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
She leaned across the seat and gave him a one-armed hug. “And it was a great day. We even got to see your brother does know how to have fun.”
Angel had been as surprised as her to see it. It had been so long since he’d seen his brother at play. “We used to go to the penny arcades and to Coney Island as kids. We were so close then. Papi ruined that.”
“You should challenge him to that dinosaur game.”
He laughed. “I should but it will probably turn into a fist fight.”
“Let it. I’ll take bets on the winner. My money is on the tall drink of pink lemonade.”
He drummed Fat Nuggets’ side lightly. “Always bet on me, babe.”
“Always,” she agreed. “Let’s get your baby home, get a little dinner in us and hit the town.”
“You read my mind.”
Cherri roared away from the sidewalk. He had enjoyed the arcade, eventually. He’d have to come back and play that shooter game again, maybe try the zombie one too. He was grateful, truly, to Cherri and her being there to lift him up. Angel knew going back to work might be rough but she was right. He could manage it. Val might even be sweet. He often was if Angel took a little more abuse than expected. And that was the last he was thinking of him. Tonight was going to be cocaine, cocktails, and good friends. Angel couldn’t wait.
The Concept of Home Doesn’t Belong to Me Hazbin Hotel art series
Parental Panic Torchwood
Alternative Forms of Transportation Stargate Atlantis
Compromises, Compromises The Owl House
Not Really Camping Teen Wolf/9-1-1
After All This Time Torchwood
Hero The Good Doctor
Plans Got Derailed Stargate Atlantis/9-1-1
So, what class are you playing as? The Owl House
Oddly Familiar Torchwood
The Only One Buffy the Vampire Slayer
we should just kiss like real partners do Arcane: League of Legends
Fishy Business Murder She Wrote
I wrote something!
Title: Nothin' But a Good Time
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Summary: After Angel called Cherri in a bad way after a particularly vicious shoot, she decides he needs to be shown a good time so he can relax and remember he has friends and he can find things to enjoy even in hell.
Rating: teen
Author Note - Written out of inspiration after seeing borzoieyes’ art series The Concept of Home Doesn’t Belong to Me This was taken from chapter six which you can see right here.. Go look at how great it is (and the whole series). They kindly gave permission for me to write a story for that scene (thank you!!) and I had fun with it (especially as I love a video arcade!)
Don't need nothin' but a good time
How can I resist
Ain't lookin' for nothin' but a good time
And it don't get better than this
Nothin' But a Good Time by Poison
The door banging startled Angel awake, utterly unprepared for Cherri’s loud, “Angie, get your little ass up!”
Angel groaned, burrowing deeper into his bedding that stank of sweat, blood, cigarettes and whatever the fuck he’d been wrecking himself with last night. He jutted an arm around in front of him, grateful not to hit somebody he wasn’t expecting next to him. Last night had been a complete blur but at some point, he had called Cherri crying over Val again. His bones ached and the last thing he wanted was to get out of bed. “Why did I give you a key again?” he muttered into his pillow.
“You wanted me to be able to take care of Nuggs if you ended up in a respawn,” she replied cheerily, shutting the door more reasonably this time.
“Did I say slam my doors?”
“I tried waking you up but you were having none of it. And I wasn’t getting closer. You hit and bite when someone shakes you awake.” She rolled her giant eye.
So used to being manhandled in his sleep, Angel had reflexively started striking out when people bothered him when he was out. Valentino would send in a minion if he needed Angel to be awoken. He groaned again, smacking his lips. “Think something died in my mouth.”
“Did you brush after you left work?”
He sat up; the desperately-needs-washing sheet slipped down his torso, puddling at his hips. Cherri sucked in a breath, seeing the bruises on him, the whip marks, probably a fang mark or two if he remembered the evening right. “Went right from a vicious shoot to the bar and somehow got home, so probably not.”
“Well, go do your morning rituals, babe. I brought breakfast.” She shook a bag at him.
His hungover stomach roiled at the thought of food. “Not sure I’m up for that.”
“Eh, it’s Anzac Day if I have the timing right. Kinda hard to tell sometimes what day it will be back in the living world. Guess it don’t matter.” Cherri shrugged and sat at his little table set. “It’s just some Anzac biscuits and gunfire.”
He eyed her curiously. “Huh?”
“Tea and rum but I know you Italians like your coffee, so coffee and rum.” Cherri brandished the thermos in her hand. “I ain’t much of a cook but I like to bake. I’m not promising the biscuits are good, hard to find some things like golden syrup down here.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Angel swung out of bed and stumbled bare-assed naked to his bathroom.
He peed in the cracked toilet and decided he was entirely too stinky and crusty to inflict on his friend so he jumped into the shower and scrubbed quickly with Fuzzy Pink Handcuffs bodywash, the scent of cotton candy, vanilla, and candied roses filling the small shower stall. Incredibly damp, he pulled on a robe and rejoined her, slumping down at his table. Fat Nuggets busily chowed down in the corner.
“I fed him,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “You gonna dry all frizzy?”
He rubbed at his damp fuzz. “Maybe. Thanks for breakfast. What the hell is Anzac Day?”
Cherri shrugged. “Some Australian war memorial thing. My dad, granddad and great gran were all military men and it was a big thing to them. I was a disappointment, too wild for them.” She snorted and poured him some coffee from the thermos.
Like any proper Italian, he dipped the cookie she gave him into the rum-upped coffee. He savored it. “Not bad. Maybe not a Saint Joseph zeppole but good.”
“What the hell’s a zeppole?”
“Basically, those donut hole things but a Saint Joseph zeppole is more like a creampuff. And I’m not surprised you can bake, babe.” Angel snagged another cookie. “You mix up bomb ingredients like a pro. Baking’s all about precise ingredients and mixing. That’s why I prefer cooking, just slop it in and hope for the best. So…I know you didn’t show up to give me liquored up coffee and to celebrate some memorial holiday I ain’t never heard of.”
Cherri reached across the table and patted his hand. “You were really melting down last night, Ange. I was worried about you and I couldn’t get free to come check on you. Figured you wouldn’t be up early so I got up, baked, and came over to make sure you were okay. You ain’t okay.”
He smiled softly. “Nah, not at all but thanks, Cherri. I mean it.”
“And I wanted to get you out of here and out of your head, which is up your ass right now, or maybe up Valentino’s.” She glared at him. “You need a holiday.”
“I got a few days off right now. I got so mad at the guy raw dogging me into the floorboards to the point I had to keep breaking scene trying to get away from him, that finally I hauled off and envenomated his ass.”
Cherri smothered a snort. “Really?”
“Nah, didn’t bite his ass. I bit his cock.” Angel smirked. “Blew up like an eggplant, and he was howling like it was gonna fall off. It just might. My venom is nothing to piss around with. Can’t say I didn’t warn everyone I was gonna do it.” Angel slurped down his coffee then pushed his mug toward her hopefully. “I was bleeding pretty heavily too so Val took what little pity he has and gave me a few days off to recover.
“Good, so when you’re not soaking ass wet, you’re dressing up and we’re going out.” Cherri poked him in the chest. “Gimme Nuggs’ harness.”
“Where are we going?”
“Like I said, somewhere to get you out of your head and out of everyone’s bed. You look like you could use a rest. We’ll get a picnic lunch and then I have a surprise for you.”
Angel made a face, sipping more coffee. “The surprise will be surviving the picnic lunch unmolested. Last time I went to Pentagram Park, I got mobbed by fans.”
Cherri pulled a small bomb from her pocket and grinned. “Let ’em try.”
Angel chuckled, his mood lifting a bit. “That sounds like fun. Lemme finish my coffee and I’ll dress. I can go out damp. Hell’s gonna be hot today. I’ll dry.”
In spite of that declaration, he did pop himself under his heat lamp while Cherri rummaged through his clothing to find something for him to wear. He didn’t want to look totally frizzy if he dried naturally. She picked the cutest damn ensemble, a pleated skirt that kissed his lower thighs, heeled ankle boots and a form hugging halter top that accented his tit window just right. The outfit was a pale, almost silvery pink.
As he was fixing his makeup, she held up three harnesses. “Which one?”
“Purple!”
“You have three purples. Here, let’s go with the lurid one. Come here, Fat Nuggets.” Cherri clicked her tongue at him and Angel’s baby waddled over and obediently let her put the harness on him.
Angel took his leash and they all sailed out the door into adventure.
# # #
“It’s a nice day, as far as they get nice in hell,” he said, brandishing his dill pickle on a stick while Cherri looked around for a good spot to sit and eat.
“Why a pickle of all things?” she asked.
“I love pickles. I used to love the owl carts back in Brooklyn. Used to save up my pennies to run after the ones selling knishes. Less excited about buying apples or potatoes during the Depression but heaven help us if someone knew my family had money, might have turned in our mobbed-up asses outta spite. Then came that dumb Dago, Mayor LaGuardia. Good ol’ Fiorello, wanted to clean up the ‘blight’ of street vendors, dumb ass. I had an Uncle Fiorello. He’s down here helping Henroin.” Angel stopped his ramble and hurried to a vendor under a tree. “Look, Cherri, Piadina Romagnola”
“What’s that and you yelled when I used the word Dago.”
“I am one. I can say it. See, piadina.” Angel gestured to the vendor.
He chose the flatbread sandwich rich with fruit and cheese and let Cherri lead him to a place where what passed as sunlight in hell could warm them. She unfurled a blanket and they both sat down on it. Angel devoured his piadina first, sharing a bit with Cherri and another bite with Nuggs. He was about to eat his pickle when someone called out.
“Gonna do something vulgar with that, Angel Dust?”
“I’m off duty, loves,” he shouted back but seeing a group of his fans watching him, he wrapped his long tongue around part of the pickle, letting them take a picture. Thankfully they moved off after they got what they wanted and he ate his pickle in peace.
Afterward, he stretched out on the blanket, next to Cherri, and Fat Nuggets curled up on his belly. He stroked his pet’s warm back. “This is nice, Cherri. Thanks for thinking of it.”
“You’re welcome. Gotta take care of my best bitch, don’t I?”
“I appreciate it. Now, what’s my surprise?”
“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise now will it?”
Angel had to be content with that. The line of coke he did after baking in the sun for a while, helped. He wasn’t a big fan of surprises, having been on the end of too many bad ones but he knew Cherri wouldn’t hurt him. He could wait impatiently, no problems.
# # #
“What is this place?” Angel stared into the building in shock. Lights and sounds almost knocked him back through the doorway.
“It’s an arcade. What’s it look like?”
“Not like a penny arcade. Where’s the fortune tellers or the strength testers? The all-win machine? The love machine? This is an assault on the senses.”
Cherri laughed. “I keep forgetting you’re a dinosaur. Come on, grandpa, let me show you how we played in my day.”
“I never lived long enough to be a grandpa,” he protested as Cherri dragged him and Fat Nuggets along. “Though, I guess I would have been your nonno’s age.”
“Breaks the brain to think about it.” Cherri smirked. “Have you seriously never played a video game?”
“I’ve never had much reason to.” Angel cupped his hands over his head. He didn’t have ears per se but it helped to muffle the nonstop noise some. “Playing shouldn’t be this loud, should it?”
“Relax. Here.” She dug in her pocket and handed him some pills. “This’ll help. I know back in your day you were probably excited to get that sixty-four box of crayons, probably felt like a bigshot, like you had gotten an Atari or something.”
He palmed the pills, not sure he wanted to add psychedelics to the sensory overload he was experiencing. Fat Nuggets was completely nonplussed, poking around curiously. He needed to be more like his pig. “Sixty-four? Wait, Crayons started coming in a sixty-four pack? We only got twenty-four and your twin would steal all the good colors. All you’d get was white and grey or some shit.”
Cherri snorted. “I got neon colors. You’d have loved it, gramps.”
Angel glared at her.
“Bet you fought your sister over the toy in the Cracker Jacks box.”
“We each got our own. I had to fight my brother for the toy in the Cracker Jacks. He was too old for them but Nissy was a dick so he’d take mine. Then Papi would get pissed about the noise and whip both of us and break the toy.”
“That is super sad. Oh look, come on!” Cherri pulled him along again. “It’s an actual Galaga game! How did they even get this?”
“What is it?”
“Only the best game going. I ditched school to play this for hours.”
Cherri put some money in the machine and demonstrated how to shoot all the things flying around the screen. Her fingers made all the button pushing and joystick maneuvering look easy. The graphics were weird and he didn’t really see how this was fun. The little ‘aliens’ killed him easily, each time.
“Fuck!” He lost and she plugged in more money so he could try again. “I was thinking about all the wiring in here. Glad I’m with you and not some guy Val would get jealous over. Vox could be watching through all of this.”
“I think he owns this actually. Don’t worry about Val so much, Angel. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
He could correct her because he didn’t need to do anything wrong for Val to get upset. Sometimes it was enough that Angel glanced at a guy for a second too long. Angel grimaced as he died again. “Fuck!”
Cherri laughed loudly. “How can someone with so many hands have hand-eye coordination this heinous? I thought you were my bad-ass bitch!”
“Hey, you try controlling this many limbs,” Angel huffed and dug a snack out of his purse for Nuggs who was getting restless. “You know how good my hand-eye coordination actually is. If you need a reminder, let’s go shoot up Pentious again.”
She laughed harder. “It doesn’t take much to hit a giant airship, Pinkie.”
“What about his eggs? They’re small.”
“And slow.” Her brow wrinkled. “Where does he get them? Does he lay them? Can sinners do that?”
“I have no idea. Don’t wanna know. Goddamn it!” He slapped the side of the machine as he lost again. “Are you sure this is my surprise?”
“I think the surprise is how much you suck, granny.”
He popped open his secondary eyes but the threat rolled right off her. “It’s my first time.”
“Man, how long has it been since you’ve said that sentence?” Cherri cackled at him.
Angel snorted. “Way too long.”
“Here, let’s go try that one.” She pointed across the room and accosted the sinner playing something called Tempest, moving her on.
This game had just one large trackball that he had to manipulate swinging from one side of a V-shaped alleyway to the other. He was marginally better at that. Angel lit up a cigarette while Cherri made it look easy. He might suck but he had to admit, at least he wasn’t thinking about Val anymore. He scanned the arcade as she played. Angel smiled around his cigarette filter.
“Hey, sugar tits, how about that one?” He pointed to a two-person shooter game.
“Oooo, those are fun. They have storylines and everything. Wanna try?”
Angel eyed the pistols on the thing showing zombies on its graphics and grinned ferally. “Damn straight I do.”
“Hey, grandpa, you know what a zombie is?”
Angel fixed his halter strap. “I was eighteen when White Zombie came out in 1932. I love horror movies. I took Molly to see it because she loved them too. Nissy went with us.” He leaned closer. “He was such a scaredy cat about horror. Don’t let him know I told you.”
“I’ve only seen your brother once. I didn’t think he’d be scared of anything.” She made a face. “Or ever had an ounce of fun in his life.”
“Mostly true but he couldn’t handle jump scares. Probably because of what happened to him growing up. You never knew what shadow Papi would melt outta and beat the shit out of you for not performing up to his stupid standards.” Angel sighed. “Enough of that shit. Leave it as that movie was kinda bad as was Revolt of the Zombies a few years later. Ready?”
“Born ready, babe.”
Before they could claim the game, three large bull men grabbed it. Angel groaned but Cherri pushed him toward a different one. This one had dinosaurs and pterodactyls in the graphics.
“This works the same way. You’ll like it,” she said.”
Together they read the instructions on the screen. Angel flicked his gun to the side to get the feel of how he could auto-reload it. Yep, this felt way more natural to him than a joystick and buttons.
They started the game. It took Angel a few minutes and their second round of plugging in money to get his rhythm but once he got it, he was unstoppable. He burned through the screens and storyline long after Cherri wiped out.
“Show off!” She playfully kicked at him and he swatted her foot gently. Fat Nuggets tried to climb up the machine curious and wanting attention.
Cherri squatted down and pet the pig as Angel went back to slaughtering pterodactyls.
“I’m good with a gun, babe.”
Of course, being good with a gun was how he ended up in hell but what was a mafia-born boy to do? As he racked up points, a crowd formed, watching him. Across the arcade another crowd was forming around another machine. Angel caught sight of that with his secondary eyes. Cheers and chants went up.
“Keep going,” Cherri encouraged. “You’re going for the high score!”
Angel gritted his fangs and kept shooting, his mood lifting. Cherri was right. Some of these games were a blast. Finally, he was dead and she turned him back around on his heels as he was about to leave.
“Put your name in there, Angelcakes.”
“Huh?”
“Here.” She took the gun from him and used it to fire away at letters to put his name on the screen. “Look at that score. You won’t be beat for a while unless you come back and get more time on the game.”
He chuckled. “I might.”
Another loud cheer went up.
“Two shooter high scores at once,” a young woman with ram horns said. “What are the chances?”
Angel peered over to the other high scorer, unable to see who it was until the crowd parted to let the little spider, puffing furiously on his cigarette, to step away from the game. He snorted. “Chances are good.”
Angel gave Fat Nuggets’ leash a little tug. “I think I’d like to run Nuggs home and go out dancing, Cherri, unless you have more planned.”
“That sounds great.”
Walking swiftly, Angel pulled up next to the other spider sinner leaving the arcade. “Nice shooting, brother.”
Arackniss glanced up at him and blew a smoke ring. “So, it was you on the other game, thought so. It was hard to see over everyone and if you make a short joke….”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Thirty jokes rolled through his mind at once.
“Nice shoes, they’re so you,” Arackniss said and it sounded genuine. “Hey Cherri….and I forgot your pig’s name.”
“Your Uncle Nissy is awful, isn’t he?” Angel scooped up Nuggs. “Fat Nuggets.”
Eight ruby eyes rolled in concert. “Can’t believe you walk a pig through hell.”
“He is a hell pig.”
Arackniss shrugged and stopped at a car that bore a resemblance to what they used to drive in the 30s. “Nice seeing you, little brother.”
“Take care, Niss.”
Angel let it drop there as he followed Cherri back to her car, one he had never seen before; one he suspected she’d stolen for the outing. As he climbed in next to her, his mind swirled as he mulled over their club options for the night and as he tried to remember what his drug-addled brain had processed about Val’s plans for the rest of the week. He didn’t want to cross paths with him on his night off.
“Cherri, this was fun,” he said, a well of emotion washing up. “I needed this. Thanks for thinking of me and taking care of me. Sometimes I really need a friend.”
“We all do, babe, and like I said, you’re my best bitch. I have to take care of you.” She turned the key in the ignition and then studied him. “Hey, no getting sad on me now, Angie. You’re okay. You can handle so much with so much style and class. You kinda amaze me.”
He smiled, scrubbing at his watery eyes. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
She leaned across the seat and gave him a one-armed hug. “And it was a great day. We even got to see your brother does know how to have fun.”
Angel had been as surprised as her to see it. It had been so long since he’d seen his brother at play. “We used to go to the penny arcades and to Coney Island as kids. We were so close then. Papi ruined that.”
“You should challenge him to that dinosaur game.”
He laughed. “I should but it will probably turn into a fist fight.”
“Let it. I’ll take bets on the winner. My money is on the tall drink of pink lemonade.”
He drummed Fat Nuggets’ side lightly. “Always bet on me, babe.”
“Always,” she agreed. “Let’s get your baby home, get a little dinner in us and hit the town.”
“You read my mind.”
Cherri roared away from the sidewalk. He had enjoyed the arcade, eventually. He’d have to come back and play that shooter game again, maybe try the zombie one too. He was grateful, truly, to Cherri and her being there to lift him up. Angel knew going back to work might be rough but she was right. He could manage it. Val might even be sweet. He often was if Angel took a little more abuse than expected. And that was the last he was thinking of him. Tonight was going to be cocaine, cocktails, and good friends. Angel couldn’t wait.
The Concept of Home Doesn’t Belong to Me Hazbin Hotel art series
Parental Panic Torchwood
Alternative Forms of Transportation Stargate Atlantis
Compromises, Compromises The Owl House
Not Really Camping Teen Wolf/9-1-1
After All This Time Torchwood
Hero The Good Doctor
Plans Got Derailed Stargate Atlantis/9-1-1
So, what class are you playing as? The Owl House
Oddly Familiar Torchwood
The Only One Buffy the Vampire Slayer
we should just kiss like real partners do Arcane: League of Legends
Fishy Business Murder She Wrote
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