Urban fantasy

Chapter 2- Genre's

"Okay, please sign here." Devin said, pointing at the bottom of his smart phone's screen before handing it off the large orange cylinder package to the customer. "Here you go."

"Good, this came in just in time." The customer said finishing off his signature and handing back the phone, which Devin noted had no tip added. Devin grew a lopsided frown at the customer as he pulled off the plastic covering the package. The customer himself had a full beard and his long brown hair pulled into a man-bun on the back of his head. He was about the same size as Devin himself, if a little taller, but he was much, much thinner. But he was far from skinny. Man-bun had well defined arm muscles sticking out of his T-shirt, though they didn't do much to help. "Camping season is just around the corner."

Man-bun soon gave up on trying to pull off the plastic, and just before he was about to use his teeth, he walked back behind the counter and pulled out a pair of scissors. As he did, Devin looked around the rest of the shop. It was a military surplus store, the kind of shop that sells old equipment and civilian cleared weapons. There were racks upon racks of different types of uniforms spread out along the store, some going back decades and couldn't still be in modern use. Old equipment ranging from tents to boots laid out on top of the shelves. Even a small section dedicated to shiny and colorful medals that Devin knew nothing about.

All of it was old, all of it was used, judging by the wear and tear each piece of merchandise. Even the weapons hidden behind glass cases told as much. Ranging from the smallest faded Swiss army knife, to the rusted swords, to the worn but clean pistols. The last of which, Devin noted, there was plenty of.

"So, uhh, what's it like working here?"

"Meh," Man-bun shrugged, the scissors back on the desk, as he unscrewed the top of the package and pulling out what looked like a handful of grey rocks. Setting them down in a bowl next to rolls of green fiber cord on one side, and a small shelf of colorful pamphlets on the other. Dropping the package into an open filing cabinet, Man-bun sat back down in the swivel chair behind him in a slump, doing two full spins before he pulled out a snickers bar. "Its a store. You worked in one, you worked in'em all. I'm only here because of employee discounts."

"Okay." Devin nodding at the army rain coat, which the rack labeled 'GORE-TEX' for some reason. "There is some cool stuff in here."

"Yup, each and everything in here is tried and tested. Meant for utility and endurance. Unlike those lousy sporting good stores." Man-bun said bitterly, biting off a chunk of his candy bar. "Won't find anything there but glorified costumes, meant to be used once and forgotten about in your closet. Sure, you'll pull off a millennial Elmer Fudd at a Halloween party, but none of it'll keep you alive in the field. Especially during winter."

"I'lllll have to take your word on that." Devin shrugged, taking a step back. Eager to look at anything else, Devin took a better look at the row's of pamphlets sitting next to the bowl of stones he just delivered. Picking up the dark green one in the middle, Devin saw what looked to be balding college professor in bad zombie make up chasing someone out of frame, a giant foam ax on one side, and an orange paintball gun on the other pointed at him. "Zombie park… sounds like a great movie title. Just spitball'n here, but maybe starring Jesse Eisenberg and Woody Harrellson. Something with a banjo."

"You laugh, but Z-squad's been doing that before the movie." Man-bun pointed at the pamphlet Devin was holding. "You can probably guess which holiday we do it on."

"Z-squad?" Devin asked, and now that Man-bun was sitting still he could finally see name tag. It read 'Shawn'.

"Think doomsday preppers with a zombie theme." Shawn explained, finishing off his candy bar before pulling out some beef jerky. "Really brings in the kids. Believe it or not, they're in pretty much every major city."

"Huh," Devin asked, setting down the pamphlet where he found it. "They got a TV show?"

"If we were a bunch of crazy survivalists, held up in the woods waiting for a zombie apocalypse maybe." Man-bun smiled at Devin, he knew what the delivery boy was implying. "Think boy-scouts but way cooler, and instead worrying about being molested by the creepy scout master in the woods, you worry about getting your face bitten off in undead suburbia."

"Wow," Devin laughed. "Dark, but damn its hilarious."

"And true." Man-bun nodded, finishing off his jerky. "You never know when those dead eyed freaks are gonna get ya."

"Ha." Devin laughed even harder, really hoping Shawn was kidding. "So which season is your favorite? I admit I haven't really kept on with the show... they've been on for a whil-"

"I actually hate those shows." Man-bun shook his head. "I mean sure, the plots are...whatever. But I've only seen a handful of the cast actually preparing for a zombie hoard. And the movies-Gah. They don't even try."

"Makes sense." Devin nodded. "Kinda like talking to a solider about battles in war mov-"

"Don't even joke about that in here man." Shawn shushed, looking over Devin's shoulders to the customers shuffling through his store, to check if they noticed. Apparently, none of them did. A lot of the customers looked like Man-bun, full beards with their hair long, pretty in shape with all their movements stiff. Devin could only guess that at least a good chunk of them were ex-military. "Once you get them started they'll never leave."

"Makes sense. Like giving an engineer a star wars comic." Devin smiled, holding back a laugh, before taking another look at the zombie park brochure. "So, every Halloween?"

"Yup, but if you don't wanna wait that long to try it out." Shawn said, reaching over the counter and pulling out another pamphlet. Grabbing it Devin could see it was sapphire blue, spotted with stars and in the center was gray wide rimmed pointy hat with a silver 'W3' stamped on it. "That's coming up soon."

"Sooo," Devin raised his eyebrow confused. "Willie's winter wonderland?"

"Close. Its a fantasy flavored comic-con. Its in Milwaukee this year." Man-bun explained. "Ever since that show with the pointy chair came out, zombies are part of the action. They call'em 'wights' now, but Z-squad's got a booth. We've even got a 'round table' roundabout where fans can slaughter those dead eyed freaks."

"Well, I've never been to comic-con."

"Don't give your hopes up, fantasy only. Gotta tell ya, the only 'wand' I'll be using is this finger." Man-bun gave a rude gesture. "Magic. Takes all the fun out. I kill my undead with bullets, thank you very much."

"Fantasy shows. Zombie shows." Devin smiled. "You got another one so I win 'ruined genres that won't die' bingo?"

"Meh." Man-bun shrugged. "There's a million police procedurals. They always sucked but won't die."

"Wonder if there's a fantasy cop show with zombies." Man-bun stared up at the delivery boy and cringed before taking out a small silver flask and poured what was in it into his coffee on the desk. Devin tried not to laugh as he saw Shawn take a swig of it and cringed again, followed by panicked blinks and an exhale. Biting his lip, Devin shrugged. "I'm into super heroes myself. Those are cool."

"Too much CGI and bright glowing stuff for me." Shawn rolled his eyes as he rubbed his temples. "Plots are great but I can't watch one without getting a headache."

"Try the shows. No glowy bits." Devin smiled as he pointed at the bowl. "How much?"

"You going camping?" Man-bun asked, setting down his drink. "Its a fire stone. Rub it against anything and -phoom, sparks. They're not good for much else."

"I could always use a pet rock." Devin shrugged. "Besides, I was taught that you always buy something when you go into a store and a better chance of repeat business if they sell."

"Just take it, but can I ask a favor?" Shawn asked, his tone jovial and his words a little slurred as he grabbed one of the fire stones from the bowl, but apparently still sober enough to catch after tossing it into the air. Devin wouldn't have been surprised if the coffee wasn't the first thing he poured his flask into. "If you go to the fantasy con thing, please try to find the most annoying dungeon masturbater in there."

"Bit of a tall order." Devin smiled back. "Finding 'that guy'."

"Fair enough." Man-bun shrugged, pointing at Devin. "How about a guy doing pretend spells a lot?"

"Why?"

"Lightning bo-" Man-bun said, winding back his hand holding the firestone, while not half way through the first word, Man-bun shaped his other hand shaped like a pistol and made a shooting motion. "Bang."