Celestia and DealerAnon Pt. 19

''So, anyway, where you planning to eat?''
>Ty grins at you and starts the car, the old black 320 rumbling to life
>''There's this new place just at the edge of Slate. Ain't been there yet but I heard it's great.''
''What's it called?''
>He shrugs in response as you cruise down the street
>''Something like Fim and Fam's, Slim and Slam, whatever.''
''You mean those two guys who own the pawn shop?''
>''Yeah, I guess. Anyway, place is brand new, man. Opened just last week.''
''So, heard anything else about it?''
>You pull out a cigarette and put it in your mouth, making a flicking motion with your thumb
>''Yeah, feel free. Anyway, from what I hear, they got fresh cider on tap.''
>You make an appreciative noise and blow a smoke ring
''Hm. Alcoholic or nah?''
>He shrugs in response while tapping on the sound system
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUnH72gyTK8
''Shit man, why the Flocka?''
>''Nigga, it's my car so it's my music.''
''Whatever. So, alcohol or no?''
>''Chill man, we'll see, aight? You've got beer at home anyway.''
''Yeah, but you just don't walk in and order non-alc cider, man.''
>''Why the fuck not?''
''It's juice, man. I ain't paying cash money for juice that don't even get me drunk if there's water instead.''
>''Shiieet man, just lay off the drank for a while, okay? It won't kill ya.''
''Yeah, but I like being drunk. Sue me.''
>''Man, if you don't have anything else to do, you could start hitting the gym again. I ain't seen you there in weeks.''
''Yeah, I know. Sorry.''
>He scoffs with a smile on his face
>''Yeah, better be. You know how boring shit gets without my main gymbro?''
''Yeah, I guess. Next week okay?''
>''As long as you actually get your ass there, then yeah.''
''Sure, sure.''

>The rest of the drive is filled with idle chatter, both of you planning the weekend
>Despite being with your closest friend, you can't help but to feel uneasy, slightly worried even
>And on top of that, you kind of miss Celestia

>The first things to catch your attention about Flim and Flam's Flamed and Fried Finest Foods are the doors
>Or, rather, the blue heart-shaped doorknob in the middle of the double glass doors
''Psst. Ty.''
>''What's up?''
''You sure this place is legit and not just, well, some homo club?''
>''What do you mean?''
>You mutely point at the doors, and the heart-shaped monstrosity responsible for opening them
>Ty chuckles and shakes his head, following you at a slow pace towards the entrance
>''Yeah, I'm sure. As I said, they just got this place, so they haven't made that many changes yet.''
''Alright. But who'd put that kind of thing there? I mean, it's just so, so girly!''
>''Don't know, don't care. Anon-''
>He pushes open the doors and you file in, taking refuge from the November chill
>''Don't you think you're overreacting, man? Like, just a bit? I mean, I ain't no faggot or anything, but they gotta have a place too, you know?''
''I'm not overreacting! If I go to a place like this, it's because I want to eat, not get ogled by some homo motherfucker!''
>''Anon, chill out, man. Volume, aight?''
''Yeah. Sorry.''
>Looking around at the clientele, you notice that most of the customers are casting hasty glances your way, murmuring silently
>Whether it's from your outburst or the fact that your face looks fucked you don't know, but you don't want any attention
>The clientele is, as expected, mostly High School kids, although there are some men and women who have the unmistakable look of factory workers
''So, uh, how's this work?''
>''What do you mean?''
''Like, how do we order? This some fancy place?''
>He shrugs and starts walking towards the counter currently manned by a mustachioed man with red hair
>''Dunno. Why you so sketchy, anyway?''
''I don't know, okay? I just feel, like, worried.''
>''About what?''
>You shrug in response and lean up against the counter
''I don't know, man. I just don't want C blabbing to anybody.''
>''Just chill, man. Roll with it.''
>Your discussion is interrupted by the mustachioed man manning the counter
>''Welcome to Flim and Flam's Flamed and Fried Finest Foods, where even-''
''Alright, thanks. Chicken and waffles, please. Is the cider alcoholic?''
>He looks shocked for a moment, but soon regains his composure
>''Why, I regret to inform you that the cider we currently have is not-''
''Alright, thanks. Corona, cap on, no lime, if you don't mind. How much is that?''
>He is definitely starting to look annoyed, replying in a tense voice while Ty grins silently
>''That'll be thirteen dollars exactly, 'sir'.''
>''I'm paying, bro. I'll have the same, only with cider instead of beer. You-''
>Ty turns towards you and points at a vacant booth
>''Go claim the table. I got this.''
''Alright bro, thanks.''
>You take off briskly, not wanting to spend more time with Flam than needed
>Or was it Flim?
>Whoever it was, he had fucked you on way too many trades in the pawnshop
>Walking towards the booth, your eyes scan the room, admiring both the interior and some of the clients
>Creamy beige walls and warm orange booth cushions combine to give the place a warm glow
>As you take a seat on the soft cushion and relax, you continue your investigation
>You don't see any faces you'd call familiar
>Some of them have probably bought something or other from you, but you can't be sure
>A few cursory glances aside, most of the clientele are now busy eating and talking amongst themselves
>At least they're not paying much attention to the sliced-up homophobe in the corner booth
>You're pretty satisfied with that, the less attention you get, the better
>Sitting down with a heavy thud, Ty hands you your beer and takes a long gulp from the glass of apple cider in his hand
''Hey, thanks, man. You know, for paying and shit. How's the juice?''
>Ty gives a theatric 'ahh' and puts his glass down with a satisfied smile
>''It's damn good. You'll regret not ordering that shit, man. And hey, no problem. Least I can do.''
>You pop the cap off with your lighter and take a long pull
''Yeah, but you know. Thanks. I mean, I still got cash, that ain't a problem, but getting robbed kinda put a dent in my budget.''
>''The budget ain't the only thing dented, bro. How you get your face that fucked?''
>You shrug and motion at the excess of bandages on your face
''Honestly, it's not that bad under them. Celestia just wanted to be on the safe side, I guess.''
>Ty laughs and rubs his hands together
>''Ooh, naughty nurse and teacher? Damn son, where do you find them?''
>You give him a smirk and sip your beer
''In my kitchen, usually.''
>A lavender-and-pink blur interrupts your conversation with a huge grin
>''Two chick waffles?''
>She can't be older than fifteen, and is currently balancing an obscene number of plates in her hands
>''Yeah. Here, thank you.''
>Ty interrupts your investigation into the waitress with a friendly smile
''Yeah. Uh. Thanks.''
>She sets down your plates with an equally friendly grin
>''Here you go, gentlemen. Bon App-''
>She looks at your face with a mixture of shock and curiosity
>''Ohmygod what happened to your face? Does it hurt?''
>You try to wave her off with a nonchalant smile
''It's a long story, and it doesn't hurt that bad.''
>''Are you sure? We have aspirin in the-''
''I'm fine. Now, don't you think you have some tables to see to?''
>She dons a sheepish smile and apologizes
>''Oh, right! Sorry. Heh. Rarity, that's my sister, always tells me I talk too much too.''
>After a moment of awkwardness, she rockets off towards the next table, but not without giving you a final call of 'Enjoy!'
''Huh. That was weird. Anyway-''
>You take your eyes off her fleeing form and turn back to your plate
''This sure smells good. There's just one thing I'm curious about.''
>''What's that?''
''Why do the plates look burned?''