Chapter 4: THE MURDER
El Sol Wraps was buzzing with its usual evening crowd when a peculiar figure walked through the door. He was tiny, with big eyes that peeked out from under a pair of fuzzy cat ears perched on his head. Tonight, he was not just an ordinary guy; he was McMeowin, a character he had created for his online persona, and he was ready for what he hoped would be an interesting date.
McMeowin scanned the restaurant until he spotted Adam, his date for the night. Adam was tall and lanky, with unkempt greasy hair that he hid under a beanie and a faint odor of weed that clung to him like a second skin. McMeowin had met Adam through a mutual acquaintance that he secretly had a crush on, and although he wasn't entirely sure about Adam's character, he had decided to give him a chance.
"Hey there McMeowin," Adam said with a smirk as McMeowin approached. "Nice ears, dude. You look like you're ready to pounce."
McMeowin forced a smile, trying to ignore the overpowering smell of weed. "Yeah, thanks. Just having a bit of fun, you know? How about we grab a table?"
They found a spot near the window, and McMeowin couldn't help but notice how Adam's eyes darted around the room, never settling on anything for more than a few seconds. As they looked over the menu, Adam leaned in close, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"Hey, McMeowin, you know what's on the menu tonight?" Adam asked, his voice low and conspiratorial.
"What?" McMeowin asked, glancing up from his menu.
"Deez nuts!" Adam cackled, his laughter ringing out loudly.
McMeowin cringed inwardly. This was not what he had hoped for. "Uh, yeah, good one," he said, trying to maintain a polite smile.
As the evening wore on, it became increasingly clear that Adam was more interested in making crass jokes and asking for money than in getting to know McMeowin. Every few minutes, Adam would lean over, reeking of weed, and ask for cash to cover the food or drinks.
"Hey, can you Venmo me another ten bucks? I wanna get one of those loaded fries," Adam said, his voice slightly slurred from the weed.
Reluctantly, McMeowin sent over the money, hoping to avoid any further awkwardness. After a painfully awkward meal filled with more inappropriate jokes and constant demands for Venmo money, McMeowin finally suggested they leave. He needed to clear his head and escape the increasingly uncomfortable situation.
As they stepped outside, the cool night air hit them, and McMeowin felt a sense of relief.
"I have to pee" McMeowin announced abruptly, pointing to a nearby bar. "Wait here."
Adam nodded absentmindedly, already lighting up another joint. "Sure thing, dude. I'll be right here." His marijuana smoke filled the block.
McMeowin headed into the bar, figuring he might as well take advantage of the facilities before heading home. The bar was dimly lit and noisy, filled with patrons talking and laughing. McMeowin quickly found the bathroom and went inside, glad for a moment of solitude.
As he washed his hands, he thought about how disappointing the night had turned out to be. He had hoped for a fun, exciting date, but instead, he had found himself with a guy who seemed more interested in weed and jokes than in getting to know him. He sighed and dried his hands, deciding it was time to leave and put the whole night behind him.
When McMeowin stepped out of the bathroom, he was met with a scene of utter chaos. The dimly lit street outside the bar had turned into a crime scene, and the air was thick with tension. A crowd had gathered, and the flashing lights of police cars painted eerie patterns on the walls. In the middle of it all, McMeowin saw Adam, lying motionless on the ground, with a look of terror frozen on his face. Adam was dead.
His heart pounding, McMeowin pushed his way through the crowd, trying to understand what had happened. He finally reached Adam, who was lying there in nothing but a diaper, looking disheveled and vulnerable in death.
"Oh my god!" McMeowin gasped, his voice trembling with fear and confusion. He had only been gone for a few minutes. How had things escalated so quickly?
He looked around hoping his crush would come to rescue him from this cringe situation but instead saw an ugly smelly man wearing a stained wifebeater watching the scene from the other block.
Before McMeowin could react, a police officer approached him, his expression stern. "Stay where you are. We need to ask you some questions."
McMeowin nodded, feeling a wave of fear wash over him. He looked at Adam's lifeless body, his mind racing. The scene was surreal, like something out of a nightmare. Just then, he noticed the familiar figure of the drunk guy standing nearby with a sinister grin. The guy was closer, and it seemed like he had something to do with Adam's death.
"Why was he wearing a diaper?" McMeowin asked the officer, his voice barely a whisper.
The officer glanced down at Adam's body and shook his head. "We don't know yet. We're still trying to piece together what happened here."
McMeowin couldn't believe his ears. The whole night had been one bizarre turn after another, and now it had culminated in a crime scene with his date lying dead in a diaper.
Everyone in Farmington seemed to have their secrets, their shadows lurking just beneath the surface. And tonight, McMeowin had stumbled into one of the darkest corners of them all.
Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, he noticed someone pushing through the crowd. It was Detective Dutch Wagenbach, and he looked as stern and serious as ever. Dutch approached McMeowin, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.
"McMeowin, right?" Dutch asked, his voice gruff. "I'm Detective Wagenbach. Can you tell me what happened here?"
McMeowin nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. "Yeah, I came out of the bar, and I saw Adam lying here. He was...he was already dead. And wearing a diaper."
Dutch's eyes flicked to the cat ears perched on McMeowin's head. He had heard of furries before but had never seen someone wearing cat ears in person. The sight was strange and almost surreal in the context of a crime scene.
"Did you see anyone suspicious?" Dutch asked, his tone serious.
McMeowin thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, there was this weird, smelly guy. Not smelly like Adam, who reeks of weed and is wearing a diaper, but smelly as in he smelled like a dumpster. He was wearing a stained wifebeater."
Dutch's eyes widened slightly, and he had a flashback to the man who had caused a disturbance at El Sol Wraps just a few nights ago. The man had poured water on his head and made a scene. Dutch had dealt with him then, but now it seemed like his joke had turned into a real case.
"That man sounds familiar," Dutch said, more to himself than to McMeowin. "I dealt with someone like that recently. He was causing trouble at a restaurant, pouring water on himself."
Dutch looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, thank you, McMeowin. We'll need to get a statement from you later, but you can go home for now. Stay safe."
As he walked away from the crime scene, he couldn't help but feel like he had been pulled into something much bigger and darker than he had ever imagined. The shadows of Farmington were deeper and more dangerous than he had thought, and now he was tangled in them.