Ch. 3

        "He's…he's insane!  Absolutely nutso!  Are you sure we're not allowed to throw a customer out?"  The cashier clutched the receiver close, tears of desperation in his eyes.  In the background, Tasuki began an Irish jig.

        "Well…" the voice on the other end hesitated.  "Is he scaring away the customers?"

        "Yes!  Yes!  Every one!"

        "Hmm…but is he buying a lot?" the man mused.

        The cashier slumped.  "Yes," he replied in monotone, gazing, weepy, at the corner of the shop where Tasuki and Nuriko were now singing gleefully.  "Twenty espresso shots so far."

        "Hey sexy!  Five more shots!" shouted a grinning Tasuki.  Nuriko leaned over his shoulder, a light flush spreading across his nose.

        "Make that ten," he called cheerily, waving a small cup in the air.  "Peace!"

        "Please?" the cashier begged, hiding behind the espresso machine.  "Puhleeaase?"

        The voice he was talking to was silent in thought.  Then, quite abruptly, it spoke.  "Let them stay."

        "Noooooooo!"

        Tasuki grinned drunkenly as he took a cheap paper cup from an out held tray.  "That's a good little bunny," he said, patting the cashier on the cheek.  The poor man sighed, his fake bunny ears drooping.  Nuriko, lounging against Tasuki's shoulder, giggled.

        "Anything else?" the cashier mumbled.  Tasuki shook his head and waved him away.  He faked a yawn and let his arm droop around Nuriko's shoulders.

        "So…Nuki…" he began, but the strong seishi's thoughts were elsewhere.

        "Isn't he cute?" Nuriko sighed, watching the cotton-ball tail taped on the cashier/waiter's oshiri* wiggle as he walked away.

        Tasuki made a face.  "No, he's not," he commented loudly.  "You're much--"

        "Ooh, he's so kawaii!  I wanna take him home.  Can we take him home?" broke in Nuriko's soaring voice.

        Yes, mouthed Hoto from a nearby couch.  Yes!  Get him off my back!

        "No," Tasuki said with a wicked grin.  "Now Nu-chan, how about you and m--"

        "Oh, look at the time!" Yui shouted suddenly, jumping to her feet.  She had had enough of this – Miaka and Tamahome ignoring her, Chichiri cursing at the chess board, Hoto talking to Mitsukake and Chiriko incessantly crying.  She had been left to sitting dejectedly with Tama, whom everyone was ignoring when they weren't hitting him for imitating Tasuki's cruder dance moves.  "Yes, yes – it's time to go home!" she muttered, eyes large with near-madness.

        "Nani!?" Tasuki yelped.  Nuriko's eyes widened.  Mitsukake's stoic expression took leave for one of immense gratitude, and Chiriko began to cry (again) with joy.  Miaka and Tamahome broke off in mid-memorization-of-partner's-name and looked at Yui in wonderment.

        "Yes, what did you say?" Miaka asked.

        "We're going home.  Now.  In the…thing," she ordered, dumping Tasuki and Nuriko off the couch and pushing them bodily out the door.  "And I'm driving," she added.

        "Ah—ah—chotto matte**—" the cahier attempted.  "The bill!"

        Yui shot him an icy glare.  "Isn't this payment enough?  I'm getting rid of him for you!" she cried, gesturing madly at an inebriated Tasuki lolling red-faced on the floor.

        "La li ho!" sang Tasuki.  Nuriko giggled and rubbed his nose into Tasuki's ear.

        The cashier turned scarlet, then just as quickly a disturbing shade of white.  Swallowing hard, he nodded, making a sick choking noise.  "Good," said Yui, grabbing a shovel and scooping Tasuki up in it.  Nuriko followed them out the door, singing random karaoke songs.

        "Me-ow!+" he shrilled.

        The rest of the seishi followed dejectedly, Miaka and Tamahome still clinging and, consequently, finding it hard to fit through the door.  Mitsukake and the sniffling Chiriko had to pry Chichiri away from the chessboard, which he was currently trying to snap in half.  Hotohori grabbed Tama, who had gotten into the remaining shots and was dancing around in caffeinated wonder, and hauled him out the door.  They left behind a tattered set of cushy seats, chess pieces scattered across the room, and a sniveling, whimpering cashier who was scratching crazily on a piece of paper with a broken pencil.

        "Name – John Sulley, Age – 19," he mumbled, his voice quivering.  "Date of resignation – January 3rd, 2002."  Outside, tires squealed as a giant Ford Excursion sped away.

*Oshiri – make an educated guess, for Chrissake!
**Chotto matte – one moment/minute, hold on

+Me-ow – ending word to closing theme of FY, you bakas!  ^_~