Ivan always read the newspaper
with his Cheerios, and that particular Thursday was no exception. He scanned
over the front page, something about a dog saving a little girl and the
erruption of Mount Aleph in Vale. He was turning the page when Hammet came
in, paled, and snatched the paper from him.
"What are you doing?" Ivan
asked him. "Give me back my dailing morning reading material."
"Here's the comics," Hammet
pulled out that section and handed it to him.
Ivan ignored the black and
white pictures being waved in front of his face, and held out one hand.
"All of it. Now."
"Well, Ivan, first I need
to explain something," Hammet put the paper down on the table.
"I'm listening," Ivan said,
reaching for his glass of orange juice.
"Well, you know that Dance
Club idea you gave to me last week?"
"Uh huh," Ivan nodded, and
began to down some of his juice.
"The Grand Opening of Ivan's
Dance Club is tonight," Hammet finished.
Ivan sprayed him with orange
juice. "WHAT?!"
"I-I decided it was a good
idea," Hammet used one of the napkins to wipe off his face. "And since
you came up with the idea, I named it after you."
"Y'mean I have my own Dance
Club?" Ivan stared at him in disbelief. "SWEET!"
***
The DJ walked in. He was a tall, auburn haired seventeen year old from Vale named Garet.
"Hey, Ivan," he greeted him. "Pretty sweet little set up."
"Yeah, I like it," Ivan nodded. He looked across at the bar, where Garet's best friend, Isaac, who had spiky dishwater blonde hair, was cleaning out some glasses. "Hey, you ready?!"
"Yeah, everything's ready," Isaac looked up and grinned. "Release the wild animals."
Ivan bounded down the steps into the pit and opened the doors. The noise from without, which before had been a soft humming, was now an overwhelming roar. "Welcome to Ivan's Dance Club!" he yelled. There was a cheer, and Ivan stepped out of the way. Teenagers from all over Angora spilled into the pit, the music started, and the dancing began.
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