Chapter Text
A high-pitched phone ding rarely sounded so ominous. “No, no, don’t do this to me,” Ali chanted as he spun the steering wheel. After rounding the curve, he finally had time to glance at his phone. His rider had canceled. “Ya Allah,” Ali muttered. Uber, evil corporation supreme, would penalize him for being late to pickup even though it hadn’t been his fault. There had been a huge crash on the highway. He’d taken a back route through the forest trying to avoid the jam but still been unable to make it fast enough. Among many other wicked tricks, Uber always gave riders shorter times than it would take any reasonable driver to arrive, in order to lure in customers. Then Ali had to face their wrath when he could never teleport over as fast as the app predicted.
His phone notification dinged again. He’d come to hear that sound in his nightmares. Always Uber pestered him to drive faster, take on more trips, accept the trip without even knowing the destination.
He glanced quickly at his phone in the holder, then groaned. He would have to drive back into central downtown for this pickup. After one failure, he didn’t dare turn this one down. He did a U-turn on the empty road, then stepped on the gas.
A black blur shot out of the forest, faster than a car and far more silent. Ali would swear that he saw fangs as long as his fingers and blood dripping down a black bearlike pelt. Too late, he slammed on his brakes. The impact deployed his air bag.
It felt like a punch to the face. The world went black—he did not know if he’d blacked out for a few seconds or if it had been the airbag covering his eyes. He turned off his car and staggered out, blinking blearily. It felt like his right eye was already developing a shiner. The trees blurred together like an Impressionist painting.
About five seconds after he got out of the car, Ali remembered that he’d seen a monster and nearly went back inside. But by then, he had spotted a small black critter lying bleeding on the road. Not a monster at all—his eyes had played tricks on him. Had he struck someone’s pet cat? His heart twisted into knots. He dropped to his knees on the pavement. Blood soaked into his pants legs, far too much for such a small creature. His stomach heaved—blood scared him.
A white stripe ran the black back. The smashed snout struggled to breath. Not a cat, but a skunk. Ali exhaled with great relief. Claw marks ran down the creature’s side, which clearly could not have been caused by his car. Then he could not bear to look at the blood any longer, so he jerked his eyes away.
Pacing on the road, Ali tried to work up the nerve to go back and help the skunk. His grandfather, who had raised him alone, always told him that he should be touched by fire rather than dishonor. He’d been speeding, he had a duty to look after the poor animal he’d hit. It looked like the skunk had already been injured in a fight…but he couldn’t use that as a justification, his car must have done the worst damage. It was a miracle the skunk was still alive!
Alas, Ali had no veterinary skills. He’d never even had a pet as a child. Although he didn’t know how he’d afford the bill, he googled the closest veterinarian and called. “Excuse me, I accidentally hit a skunk with my car. Could you tell me how to safely transport it to your office? I wasn’t sure if it would be dangerous to move it.”
The voice on the other end spoke firmly: “Oh, no, we don’t treat wild animals.”
“Can you direct me to a vet who would? There is a lot of blood, it needs to be someone nearby.”
“I don’t know anyone who would let a skunk into their office. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get skunk spray out? The closest wildlife rehabilitator is forty miles away, you’d never make it in time. Look, a skunk hit by a car won’t survive. The kindness thing you can do would be to put the critter out of its misery.”
Ali felt faint. “H-how would I do that?”
“Do you have a gun?”
“A gun?” Ali swayed on his feet. “No! I am not a gun person!”
“Then maybe strangle it to death or run it over with your car a few more times.” The weary tone tried to muster some sympathy. “It's fine if you can't. Wild animals run in front of cars all the time. It’s not your fault. You don’t need to worry about getting into legal trouble.”
After hanging up, Ali paced a few more times, then worked up the nerve to approach the skunk again. The front of his car looked ridiculously bent, as if he’d struck a steel wall instead of a small animal. A cloying coppery scent filled the air. The skunk chirped in pain or perhaps fear. One black eye rolled to gaze up at the giant human looming over.
Ali staggered backward. He could never strangle some poor, innocent skunk! He’d lived in the city for his entire life. He got all his meat packaged at the grocery store. Killing an animal would be quite unthinkable to him.
Yet how could he drive off? To leave the creature to suffer would be more dishonorable than a mercy killing.
Ali gulped. There was only one choice he could live with. He canceled his Uber trip, trying not to think about another penalty and half a day’s lost income. Uber tried to lure him by promising a bonus for three more trips, but he didn’t believe it. From past experience, Uber would wait until he was one trip away from the bonus, then refuse to send him any customers until the reward expired.
Ali took off his jacked and used it to pick up the skunk. “I’m sorry, little skunk. I will do my best to save your life.” In the front seat of his car, he wrapped the jacket around the injuries and applied pressure.
The skunk’s tail twitched, then it unleashed a downpour of musk soaking the jacket and car seat. It smelled like rancid garlic set on fire, and then pelted with rotten eggs. Ali staggered backward, breathing through his mouth with his nose pinched shut. His entire body shivered.
Oh, no, he couldn’t afford to get his car cleaned. He lived on the edge, barely making enough money to buy groceries each week.
He wanted to toss the skunk out of his car. But it was just a scared animal. It hadn’t known better. Once Ali took on a task, he always gave it his all. He might not have been the best student in school or the most gifted sports player, but all of his teachers had praised his determination.
“Please don’t die on me,” he murmured. “If you can just hold on, I’ll pick up some medicine for you on the way home.”
He forced himself to get into the car and roll all of his windows down. Carefully breathing through the mouth, he started driving.
After arriving home, the skunk had been settled into a cardboard box padded with towels. Ali had googled instructions online on medical care for wild animals. He’d applied antibiotics and bandaged the injuries. It hadn’t seemed like any limbs had been broken, which confused him because he would swear a leg had been broken when he’d picked the skunk up, but he was no doctor. He’d created a warm, quiet space, placing the box next to the heating vent of his studio apartment.
For hours, the skunk vomited up a green sludge. Was skunk vomit usually green or was this a bad sign? Ali had no time to google it, with all his attention laser focused on turning over the skunk to stop him from choking as he vomited. He cleaned up the vomit each time, using napkins when he ran out of paper towels.
The rest of the day and all night, Ali sang, “Nami, nami”—the traditional lullaby he barely remembered from his childhood. He encouraged, “Don’t give up, little guy.” His cursory medical examination had confirmed the maleness of the skunk.
His voice sounded funny from the clothespin on his nose. He had not dared to take a bath, instead watching over the little skunk and preventing choking all night. No amount of scrubbing at the sink had gotten the skunk spray off his hands. Of course he had not been able to bathe the injured skunk either. He’d thought he could get use to any smell given enough time, but the skunk smell was exceptionally vile.
Ali patted at the sweat soaking the skunk’s fur. The sight of blood always made him wince, but he was getting used to that faster. “You can do it. I believe in you.” He coaxed the skunk to drink some cold water.
Was it just his imagination, or were the cuts already healing under the dried blood? To his knowledge, skunks had no reputation for being especially fast healers—only stinky. Maybe he’d overestimated the severity of the initial injuries. He’d felt like he’d been kneeling in a pool of blood, but that could have just been his phobia talking. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Ali had last slept. His vision flashed in and out. It felt like mites buried into his eyes. He no longer trusted his own memories.
“You’re doing well, little guy.” Ali petted the uninjured white stripe as the skunk drank more. “I’m proud of you. Thank you for surviving, you can’t know how happy and relieved you’ve made me.”
The skunk’s tail twitched once, then he fell into a deep slumber. Finally, he’d stopped vomiting.
Ali watched over the skunk as long as he could, then he fell asleep on the floor, his body curled around the box.
Ali breathed in fur, sneezed, then breathed it in again. Gasping, he opened his eyes. The skunk had settled across his chest, tail whacking his face.
“Little guy! You’re alive and kicking! I’m so happy!” Ali hugged the skunk before he remembered he shouldn’t hug a wild animal. The skunk remained oddly docile. What if he’d jostled the cuts?
As they’d slept, the skunk had clawed the bandages off. When Ali held the skunk away from his face, the creature seemed oddly uninjured. That wasn’t possible! Ali had blood soaking his jacket to prove it!
On closer examination, the skunk had numerous red cuts under his fur, many in number but small. Ali must have grossly overestimated the damage in his panic last night.
His nose wrinkled, then he gagged. “We both need a bath.”
The skunk escaped Ali’s arms with sudden agility, leaping onto the dining room table.
“Come on! Your fur is dirty, too.”
The skunk leapt onto the ceiling fan and clung on. Whoa, Ali had not known skunks to be so agile.
Ali fetched a broom and attempted to chase the creature down.
The skunk stretched out one paw and slashed off the head of the broom. The straw rattled against the carpet floor.
Cross-eyed, Ali mumbled, “I didn’t know skunks had such strong claws either!”
An hour later, Ali searched on his phone for the cheapest hydrogen peroxide at the grocery store.
It turned out that skunk spray had a compound called thiol, which did not dissolve in water, so washing only spread the smell around. Ali had not known that before taking a shower. Morosely, he tugged on a damp, smelly lock of hair.
His knees pressed up to his chest as he added hydrogen peroxide to his online shopping cart. He had no choice except to shop online—no grocery store would let him inside when he smelled this bad. Already a neighbor had banged on the door to complain about the smell spreading and ask if he had been cooking some strange foreign food. (Rude! Egyptian cuisine didn’t smell like rotten eggs!)
Although Ali could ill-afford the fee for grocery delivery. Merely buying antibiotics had made his bank account balance dip below what he needed to pay his next rent. But he wouldn’t be able to work until he cleaned out his car, so this was a necessity. He already had baking soda at home. He paused, mouse cursor hovering over dishwashing detergent. He had it already, but his online source said blue Dawn dish soap would be most effective. In the end, he ordered it. Better to work late making up the money than have his nose permanently die.
While he was at it, he ordered bananas, strawberries, tomatoes, and peanuts: all popular treats for skunks, according to his online reading. The little guy deserved a good meal after such a rough day.
The skunk nudged the phone aside to land in Ali’s lap.
“Welcome down from the ceiling.” Ali laughed.
The skunk jabbed a paw at a picture of eggs.
“Demanding little creature, aren’t you?” Ali wondered if most animals were this intelligent. He didn’t think so…but he’d never owned a pet before or interacted much with animals at all. His last Uber customer had told him that her dog could understand what she said, so he supposed he could only accept what he saw with his own eyes. “Fine, you can have eggs if you let me give you a special de-odorizing bath.”
The skunk widened his eyes and tilted up his head adorably.
“You need it! The smell got on you too.” Ali frowned and hesitated. His nose might have committed suicide in self-defense, but the skunk did not seem to have an odor. The fur even looked cleaner. “I guess it wouldn’t be an evolutionary advantage for skunks to be hit by their own odor.” That explanation did not quite make sense, but he couldn’t deny the evidence of his own nose. The fur also appeared oddly clean for a critter who had turned down the bath.
Another neighbor knocked on the door, forcing Ali to go apologize again. He was already doing his best to air out the smell with every window open and a fan pointed outward. By the time he closed the door, he had forgotten that he’d been about to google if skunks could be affected by their own spray.
When the groceries arrived, Ali set out fruit and nuts for the skunk before cleaning himself. His grandfather had taught him that a guest’s comfort came first, and besides, the poor little creature must be hungry after nearly a full day cooped up in here. Ali’s own stomach roared at the sight of food. He’d gone even longer without a proper meal, only snarfing down a granola bar between trips.
“I’ll cook your eggs later.” Ali set down the plate, crammed his cheeks full of peanuts, then went to wash off his horrible stench. He plugged his bathtub and filled it up with the recipe he’d found online of a hydrogen peroxide 3%, baking soda, and dishwashing detergent.
As he stripped off his stinky clothing and put it into a metal trashcan (there would be no getting out the smell and the blood) he noticed a pair of beady black eyes starting intently from the doorway.
Whatever did a skunk find so fascinating? Oh, an animal must be confused by the concept of clothing. Ali waved his shirt. “This is a shirt. We humans use it because we don’t have fur to keep ourselves warm.”
He would swear the skunk rolled eyes at him.
“I said I’d get you more food later.” Ali closed the bathroom door.
The hydrogen peroxide stung his skin, but was indisputably useful in getting rid of the awful smell. Finally, his nose had unclogged itself! When he’d scrubbed his skin bright red, he drained the bathtub and started water running next.
Ten seconds later, he screamed as he looked into the mirror and realized his hair had blond highlights.
He grabbed the hydrogen peroxide bottle and belatedly read the warning about it bleaching hair. Weird, he’d even gotten the rest of his body hair.
He wiped off the condensation in the mirror and took a closer look. Hmm, not so bad. He would even venture to say that he looked handsome. He’d never experimented with dyed hair before.
Since he couldn’t afford to dye his hair black again, he had no choice except to accept this new fashion statement until his hair grew out again. He might as well embrace his rebellious phase.
Quickly, he returned his attention to the bath before it ran over. He cleaned out the tub, then ran a hot bath.
Sighing, Ali sank into the hot water. He could feel it working magic on the knots in his shoulders. A generic bar of soap smelled heavenly, probably because he felt relieved to be able to smell anything besides skunk stench. The water bill nagged at the back of his mind. A shower would be cheaper. “I deserve a nice bath after the night I’ve had.”
From the sink, the skunk smacked his lips in an “Uh-huh,” sound.
Ali startled, splashing water. “How did you get in here? I shut the door.”
The skunk leapt through the air, paws spread like a flying squirrel, and landed in the bathtub. More droplets spread across the floor. The skunk placed paws on Ali’s chest with a smug glint in dark eyes.
Ali snorted. “I suppose you deserve a bath, too. You did survive a car accident.”
The skunk cuddled closer, likely drawn by human body warmth.
With a towel around his waist, Ali bustled around the kitchen. He’d brought out his late grandfather’s dishes: handcrafted ceramic blue plates and bowls decorated with little fishes. He chopped up the fruit and vegetables into little pieces shaped like a rainbow heart. The peanuts received a coating of peanut butter. He chopped up the boiled eggs to make them easier to eat, then decorated them with carrot bunny ears. He hadn’t been able to order insects online, but he would be ashamed to miss out on a traditional skunk staple. Instead he chased down the flies that had snuck in while his windows had been open, capturing them in a jar so he could prevent them to the skunk alive—the preferred state according to his readings.
The skunk climbed onto the table and surveyed the feast. He sniffed as if deeming it barely acceptable. Crouching, he pounced and attacked.
Only then did Ali consider it polite to make himself a peanut butter sandwich to eat. He hadn’t indulged in the expense of jelly. But he was so hungry, anything would taste great.
The skunk ate the entire feast in one sitting. Ali had put out too much out of tradition, privately hoping it would last a few meals. The poor creature must have been very hungry. Maybe it had been a while since the last forest meal.
“Don’t eat too fast,” Ali warned too late. “You’ll make yourself sick again.”
The skunk huffed in an indignant way.
“If you’re going to stay here until you recover, then you need a name.” Ali rested his elbow on the table with his head in his hand. The skunk’s black face with a single white stripe down the nose reminded him of a mask. “How about Bandit?”
The skunk stomped and hissed, tail straight up.
“Are you dancing for joy? You like it? Then from now on, your name will be Bandit.”
The skunk turned around and presented his butt, tail arced.
Ali leapt up. “Hey! Don’t you dare spray me again! I just got clean. If you stink up my apartment a second time, then your name will be Princess Fluffy Tail.”
The skunk froze, then lay back down.
Ali offered a compromise: “How about I just keep calling you little guy as a nickname?”
The skunk gestured at the food, which either meant he had only been appeased by the top quality guest treatment or that he would only accept if Ali kept the good food coming.
Really, it was almost as if the skunk could understand human speech. Ali supposed the skunk must be reacting to his tone of voice. According to TV, animals could do that.
As soon as he’d finished washing dishes, Ali brought his cleaning mixture outside to wash his car. He’d left the windows open to air it out—a risk, but then his old car wouldn’t sell for anything except scrap and he had nothing worth stealing. The smell wasn’t as dire as he feared. Getting on his knees, he started scrubbing.
A shadow cast over him, big enough to swallow up his entire car. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw…
A flash of fang.
Shining scale.
Too large, something his brain did not want to acknowledge. His legs moved faster, leaping up so abruptly that his head slammed against the car roof.
A black blur shot past him. Sunlight washed over him again.
Ali blinked. The skunk perched on the top of his car. “Oh, did I only see you?” He felt foolish. His nerves must have been shattered by the car accident. He was literally jumping at shadows. He rubbed his bruised head.
The skunk yawned. Crimson glinted on pointed canine teeth, then a flash of tongue later, it was gone.
Just when Ali had finished cleaning out his car, his landlord approached the front door. He tried to duck behind his car, but too late.
She walked over. “You’ll have your rent on time next month, won’t you, Ali?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He hoped. “I’m sorry about being late last time.”
She harumphed. “I have to come out here and collect it, it’s very annoying—what’s that?” She pointed at the skunk.
The skunk looked down his nose at the presumptuous human daring to point a finger at him. Sharp teeth snapped.
Ali blurted out, “He’s my new pet cat.”
The landlord stared. “A very ugly looking cat.”
The skunk hissed, fur standing on end and tail raised.
Recognizing the threat, she backed away. “Ahem, what a fine cat. You will have to pay a pet deposit next month too, and you’re responsible for any damage he does.” Then she ran away.
Ali turned the skunk. “You heard the lady. No spraying until you can pay to have it cleaned.”
That night, Ali struggled to sleep. He’d slept during the daytime and did not feel tired, but he needed to adjust his sleep cycle so he could get to work the next morning. It did not help that the nocturnal skunk ran all around the apartment, chasing down the last of the insects who’d gotten in before the windows closed.
Ali rolled over.
The skunk curled up on the other side of his pillow, white stripe standing out. His eyes looked amber in the darkness.
“Gah!” Ali clutched his pillow. “Didn’t I prepare a lovely bed for you with my spare pillow?”
Yawning, the skunk snuggled closer. Tiny little claws latched onto Ali’s pajamas—not causing any harm, but impossible to dislodge without ripping.
Ali froze, terrified of being sprayed directly in the nose if he angered the creature.
The tyrannical skunk snuggled up and went to sleep.
The skunk tried to follow Ali outside when he went to work. He shut the door too quickly. The skunk scratched on the wood. Ali called, “I’ll let you leave when you’ve finished healing. Maybe you have a skunk family to return to, but you need to let me finish treating you with antibiotics first. You can’t wander around the apartment, I’m sure some of the residents can tell a skunk from a cat.”
The skunk yowled. Ali walked away quickly, trying not to feel guilty.
During his first trip of the morning, his passenger said, “There’s something moving in the trunk of your car.”
Ali pulled over and turned around. A black-and-white head popped up behind the backseat. Ali winced. “I’m so sorry, my cat must have snuck into my car. I had no idea. I wouldn’t have brought along a pet without warning you, you might be allergic. You’re not allergic, are you?”
“I like cats.” The passenger paused. “That looks like a skunk, though.”
Ali laughed loudly. “Definitely a cat! Can you imagine a skunk in an Uber car? That would be crazy. He’s very tame. Um, sit!”
The skunk definitely rolled his eyes, then he sat up on his haunches on the headrest.
The passenger stared. “I have never seen a skunk so obedient. Now, I’ve never seen a cat so obedient either.”
Ali smiled nervously. “He doesn’t listen to me at all! That was probably a coincidence. Please don’t give me a one star rating.” The skunk verified his words by hopping down and spreading across the empty seat as if he owned the car.
The passenger laughed. “The novelty alone is worth five stars.”
After the drop-off, Ali begged the skunk to stay out of sight. Pleas worked better than orders. The skunk was very quiet and discrete. Except that one odd time when something large with wings landed on (attacked?) the roof of Ali’s car. The skunk somehow got out of the car and chased it off. Or at least, Ali never saw it again, only a feather sticking out of the skunk’s mouth.
Just in case, he googled if skunks ate birds, but of course they didn’t, that would be ridiculous.
Ali sat on a tarp on the floor, with the skunk in front of him. He used books to prop up a handheld mirror as he trimmed the skunk’s fur. “Don’t you look handsome now?” he cooed. “We just needed to remove some of those nasty knots stuck in your fur.” Having finished, he got out a brush.
The skunk smacked his lips, a sound almost like a purr.
Ali smiled. He’d gotten used to having an adorable animal in the house. Even if the little guy did eat a lot. After so long living alone, he finally felt like he had a good reason to get up every morning and drag himself to work. Maybe he could keep on passing the skunk off as a funny-looking cat forever.
“You need a name if you’re staying. How about Flower, after the skunk from Bambi?”
The skunk clacked his teeth ominously.
“Peanut? Because you love eating peanuts.”
The skunk stomped his feet and gave Ali a glare that clearly conveyed that he should return to what he was actually good at—grooming.
Ali went to the kitchen to toss the hair. A growl, then a loud crash pierced his good mood.
He rounded the corner of the kitchenette. His window hung open. His standing lamp had been sliced in two, cleanly, as if claws had gone straight through the metal.
“Not my cheap Ikea lamp!” Ali gasped. “Bad skunk!”
The skunk gave Ali a very hurt look before leaping onto the bed.
Kneeling, Ali cleaned up the broken glass. He found a red stain on the carpet.
“Were you hurt?” Ali leapt to his feet, regretting everything. The skunk was a wild animal, he couldn’t be expected to never cause trouble, it was a miracle he’d been so well-behaved so far. “I’m sorry, little guy. Let me examine you.”
He checked all over, but found no injuries. The stain must have been an older bloodstain from when he’d first brought the skunk home. At least the skunk enjoyed the petting.
Afterward, it occurred to Ali that maybe he’d falsely accused the skunk. Surely such small little claws couldn’t have cut through the lamp. Nor did the skunk have the dexterity to open the window. Had Ali accidentally left the window open, and a breeze knocked the lamp over? Ikea crap would attempt to self-destruct from the mildest of breezes. He checked the lamp again. It had been severed too cleanly to look like an accidental break. Then he googled if skunk claws could cut through metal, receiving a resounding “hell no” from multiple sources.
A cawing sound drew his attention. A raven hovered in place in front of the closed window.
The skunk hissed, and the raven skedaddled as if its tail feathers had caught on fire.
Ali googled if skunks could talk to ravens and if ravens were scared of skunks. Google did not entirely understand his question but made him feel as if he was crazy for asking.
He was starting to wonder how much google actually knew about skunks.
That night, the skunk stared with his usual charming fascinating with clothing as Ali changed into his pajamas. Then they snuggled close in the bed. The next morning, the skunk had vanished.
Ali searched all over the apartment, calling, “Little guy?” and trying to lure the skunk out with a bowl of peanuts. He found no trace, and he had a small apartment without much furniture or many places to hide.
With a sigh, Ali collapsed into his battered two-seat couch. Although he was sad, he couldn’t say he was truly surprised. The skunk was a wild animal. Everyone knew you were supposed to release injured animals back to their natural habitat after they healed. He hated to be alone again, but he wasn’t worried the way he would have been about a missing pet. The skunk had been living on his own for a long time, he knew how to take care of himself. He had probably returned the forest because he missed his rabbit and deer friends. (Skunks were great friends with rabbits and deer according to Bambi.)
“Good luck, little guy,” Ali murmured. He liked to imagine the skunk would live a long life (for an animal) and never forget the kind human who had saved him. Although realistically, animals probably didn’t have great memories.
The apartment building did not have a proper lobby or a receptionist, only a single old leather chair in front of the mail room. This morning, a stranger sat in the chair with one leg crossed, leaning his elbow on the arm like a king surveying his domain. He was short, slim, and astonishingly pretty, from his big black eyes, round cleanshaven cheeks, pointed clawlike nails, and long curly eyelashes. He had light brown skin and black hair with a single white streak running down the middle, so bright and distinct it surely must be hair dye. He wore an impressive fur coat (surely too hot?), a golden waistband, and a red silk turban with a string of golden beads and a huge diamond decorating the top. Any diamond the size of a robin’s egg must be fake, right?
Upon spotting Ali, the stranger smiled with his entire face, his dazzling joy making him even more beautiful. “My savior! I have come to offer thee my hand in marriage, as befits my life-debt. You may commence rejoicing, mortal.”
Ali glanced over his shoulder, in case there might be someone standing behind him, but they were all alone. “Are you an actor? Are you advertising a show? Wait, could you be from the local renaissance fair?” He’d been seeing billboards all over town for it. He applauded. “You’re amazing, I love your old-fashioned way of speaking, and your costume looks astonishingly realistic.”
The actor frowned, outstretched hand lowering. “Twas not the joyful acceptance I didst look to receive. I do not merely proffer to make thee my concubine, I would offer wedlock with the gift of my power and immortality.”
Ali shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Don’t think I’m not loving your performance, but I need to leave for work now.”
“I would almost think thou dost reject me.” Danger radiated off the actor in waves. His fingers curled, shadow seeming to thicken. The darkness in his eyes swirled like the endless spiral of galaxies around a black hole. “I am wont to seize what I desire, not to entreat it, mortal.”
Ali sighed. “Yeah, I can’t afford renaissance fair tickets. Including the parking and the overpriced food, it would probably come out to a week’s income. I’m sorry, your act is wasted on me. You should try a wealthier neighborhood. I really do think you’re great. I don’t know what story you’re acting out, but it sounds very exciting. I gotta run, goodbye.”
Then he powerwalked out of the building as the actor gaped after him. Shaking his head, he muttered, “That was weird.”