Barney and the Creep Crew

>You see a lot of weird shit living in a city.
>A high concentration of people means that all types are bound to live there.
>The more people, the more likely you get one of the really weird ones.
>You’ve seen your fair share of lunatics and assholes.
>Especially on the subway, it’s like their breeding grounds.
>Sometimes that’s a very literal statement.
>But in your nineteen years of seeing the weirdest people this “fine” city has to offer.
>This might just take the cake.
>For reference you’re standing outside of this rundown looking warehouse.
>There’s a lot of those, especially the further downtown you get.
>But this one is especially shitty.
>Windows are busted out, the brick walls are coated in graffiti.
>It’s a shithole among shitholes.
>But, for some reason, the place smells like cookies.
>And not like some cheap cookie scented air freshener.
>This smells like fresh baked, homemade cookies.
>The kind that your parents always tell you are too hot when they first come out the oven but you steal one anyways and burn the shit out of your tongue.
>Good times.
>It’s definitely not the smell you’d expect in this part of town, and certainly not from that shitty building.
>But that’s not even what makes this super weird.
>That’s “normal” levels of weird.
>The purple dinosaur with a shit eating grin however is not.

>It’s looking down from a second story window.
>Big yellow eyes are trained right at me, blinking every now and again.
>A forked, snake like tongue flicks about.
>All in all it’s a really convincing looking fursuit.
>Or scalesuit?
>You’re not sure what to call it.
>Either way it’s kind of creepy to see one, especially in a place like this.
>And it gets creepier when the suit’s mouth opens and a voice speaks.
>”Hey! You? Yeah, you! You like cookies?”
>The voice sounds human, like you’d expect.
>Although you half expected some gravely monster voice given the fact that the face moved so realistically.
>But you really can’t dwell on that.
>Some creepy guy in a costume in a creepier warehouse just asked you if you like cookies.
>Which means it’s time for you to nope the fuck out.
>Of course, you being you, you can’t help but say a little something as you start walking away.
“Fuck off Barney.”
>Not your finest work, but it’s manageable.
>He is kind of asking for it by wearing a purple dinosaur costume after all.
>You look away from the warehouse and back to the streets in front of you.
>There your heart skips a beat as you see two more purple dinosaurs smirking at you.
>One’s wearing a baggy hoodie and jeans, the other a tanktop and gym shorts.
>And both are walking towards you.
>Shit.

>The worst part about being downtown is that nobody wants to be out here.
>It’s a ghost town, especially during the midday.
>Even if you live out here, you tend to work in the more congested, busy part of the city.
>You speak from experience, you’re coming from your shitty job at a convenience store to your shitter little house a few more blocks away.
>But now it looks like Barney and Friends are about to gut you.
>You do try running of course.
>But for people in costumes they sure do run like fucking raptors.
>And those costume claws, they really dig in deep.
>Maybe a little too deep.
>LIke, these are actual sharp claws and not costume accessories deep.
>Like, oh fuck these aren’t costumes deep.
“Oh shi-”
>You squirm helplessly as they drag you into the warehouse. More of the dinosaurs are inside, each smirking as you get pulled inside.
>They take your phone and wallet, tossing them around to each other before they finally wind up in the claws of a raptor on the stairs to the second floor.
>But you don’t have much time to protest that.
>Instead you are much more concerned with the raptors forcing you into a chair and tying you up.
>The bindings are pretty tight, even if they left you alone you probably wouldn’t break out.
>They finish it off with stuffing a rag in your mouth then covering that with a strip of duct tape.
>Now that you’re in prime “about to be murdered” position, you feel strangely calm.
>The really scary part is over, now they just have to finish the job.
>Here’s hoping they aren’t into torture.

>After a bit one of the raptors step forward.
>The other couple dozen raptors all part away when he comes close.
>He’s probably their boss.
>Pack leader?
>Something.
>Either way he’s right in front of you now.
>The others are all watching in the background eagerly.
>”So… you called one of my Creeps Barney?”
>Oh lord.
>First off, you’re about to be murdered because you insulted a dinosaur.
>Secondly, fucking Creeps?
>Really?
>They could at least choose a better name.
>”Don’t worry, we’ll have that tape off soon. As soon as our new batch of cookies are done. Fresh cookies always work best, don’t they boys?”
>A chorus of “yeahs” “fuck yeahs” and “sure, I guesses” ring through the warehouse.
>The “Creep” steps forward, holding a claw to your throat.
>”And when we’re done with you, your name’s going to be Barney. Isn’t that right Barney?”
>You sit there, too frozen with fear and confusion to move.
>”Don’t worry Barney, we’ll teach you your place. As soon as the oven dings. I hope you like your cookies steaming hot Barney, because we’re not going to waste any time.”
>Okay, you were wrong, the scary part isn’t over.

>You sit there in awkward silence.
>If it weren’t for the vaguely musky rag in your mouth you’d probably be blathering about how they don’t have to do this.
>About how you’re oh so sorry and that Barney was a term of endearment or some shit.
>Maybe it’s for the best you’ve been gagged.
>You notice a flash at one point.
>Your whole body feels electrified as you nearly jump out of your seat.
>However, what you assumed was the flash of a gun firing was actually just some dickhead’s camera with the flash on.
>The Creeps laugh at you of course.
>You can’t even blame them on that one.
>By now your face is beet red.
>Not only because it’s really warm in this warehouse, but because you’re embarrassed.
>In a room of weirdos you shouldn’t be the laughingstock!
>It should be… somebody else!
>You’re not exactly sure who, maybe the one Creep that’s got almost pink scales, or the one that’s betraying the idea of a sleek raptor by being a chubby fellow.
>Painfully average you shouldn’t be the subject of their ridicule.
>But you know they’re not going to let up anytime soon.
>It’s a mob mentality, they’re all working each other up.
>They’re having too much fun being assholes.
>A Creep wearing a frilly apron, a chef’s hat, and literally nothing else saunters out from behind a door.
>”I’ve got a fresh batch of cookies, name on the ticket is… Barney~?”
>The Creeps erupt in a mixture of cheering and taunting laughter.
>The leader merely pats your head as he ushers the baker Creep over.
>”Barney,” remarks the leader, “this is Bistro, he’s our head chef here. And you’re going to sample his newest batch for him. Got it Barney?”
>Again you’re too paralyzed to do anything.
>But this time the leader grabs your shirt and rips it, before placing a claw right on your chest.
>”Don’t make me play mean Barney, I like to have fun here. Don’t kill the vibe, just answer the question.”
>You gulp and nod.

>”Good boy!”
>The leader rips the tape off your mouth.
>Without being told to you spit out the rag.
>Lucky for you nobody gets onto you for that one.
>Instead the leader just grabs a cookie off the tray and shoves it right in your mouth.
>Hot.
>So. Fucking. Hot.
>It’s molten, it’s beyond human consumption at this point. But the moment it’s in your mouth the leader slaps the tape back on.
>”No spitting out your treat Barney, you're going to finish your cookies. Now chew.”
>Having no other options you start to chew.
>As hot as the cookie is, it tastes pretty damn good.
>Really fucking good.
>You almost crack a smile at how good it tastes.
>But your slight bit of good mood is ruined when you notice something falling like snow in front of you.
>It’s hair.
>It’s your hair.
>Your eyes widen as more strands and clumps just fall down before you.
“Mmmph? Mmmph!!”
>You choke back the rest of the cookie, squirming in your seat.
>”We don’t have hair Barney, it’s just dress code!”
>You clench your hands into fists and…
>Sharp little daggers dig into your flesh.
>Those daggers are you fingernails.
>Or rather, your claws.
>Off comes the tape again.
“What are you fuckers doing to m-mmmph?!”
>Another cookie gets shoved right in.
>You can’t help but chew.
>Your skin itches and crawls as it dries out.
>It cracks and reforms, becoming hard and purple.
>”Creep” scales.

>Tears stream down your face by the time the third cookie goes in.
>By now your tongue is numb to the heat, but your body is not so lucky.
>Your feet hurt like hell as they push through your canvas shoes.
>Your tailbone is on fire as a big tail pushes out from behind you.
>But most of all your face hurts.
>God damn your face is sore.
>It’s like somebody hooked your face to the back of a truck and started to drive.
>But instead of just mercifully ripping off it keeps stretching and pulling.
>By now your face isn’t even human anymore.
>It’s… like theirs.
>Every bit of you is like them.
>From your bald scaly head to your big clawed feet.
>You’re a lanky purple raptor just like the rest of them.
>A Creep.
>Whatever a fucking Creep is, you’re one of them now.
>And god does it feel weird.
>The tape comes off again and the leader looks down at you, grinning.
>”You look wonderful. What’s your name again?”
“Barney…”
>What?
>What the fuck?
>You didn’t say Barney.
>You did not say Barney!
>”Oh hey, good job Bistro! That extra ingredient worked! Don’t worry Barney, that’s just proving a point. I can assure you the rest of your silly little mind is how it was before we met you.”
>You can’t remember your actual name.
>Fuck, fuck, fuck.
>”The way I see it, it’s more fun when they start acting like us of their own volition.”

>Another Creep walks up handing the leader a handful of clothes.
>He smirks, nodding towards you.
>Two Creeps come over and start to undress you.
>Not by just taking off your clothes however.
>That would require untying you and what not.
>These assholes just rip your clothes to ever loving shit as they tear them off.
>Only after they’ve shared your clothes off do the actually untie you.
>”Stand up Barney!” calls one of the Creeps.
>You do of course.
>You’re in absolutely no place to fight back against these guys right now.
>Nor were you ever.
>Nor will you ever be probably.
>But that’s beyond the point.
>The leader smirks, stepping forward with the clothes tucked under one of his arms.
>”You are a lovely little Creep Barney,” he compliments.
>He grabs your cock with your free hand.
>You let out a sharp breath of air, you weren’t expecting that at all.
>”I’m going to love breaking you in Barney, you’re going to be my favorite in no time.”
>He strokes your member softly and slowly.
>You don’t want this but… fuck.
>It doesn’t feel bad.
>You start to get hard, your new Creep cock stiffening in his hand.
>But that’s exactly when he stops and shoves the clothes into your arms.
>”Get dressed Barney!”

>You whimper a little at the whiplash of feelings.
>But you really don’t have the room to complain right now.
>So you just start putting on the-
>Oh come the fuck on.
>Your new underwear is a fucking thong.
>A tight, small looking white thong with a red heart right on the crotch.
>The Creeps notice your disdain and laugh a little before starting to chant.
>”Put it on! Put it on! Put it on!”
>Yeah, this wasn’t just them finding some random outfit for you to wear.
>This is 100% intentional to fuck with you.
>Oh well… you can’t really do anything about it.
>On goes the thong.
>It’s super tight, your cock and balls make a very noticeable bulge.
>This is one hell of a shift given that you’ve worn boxers all your life.
>Next are the steel gray sweatpants with a few random stains.
>Your new shirt is tie dye with “Legalize It” written in big letters.
>Thankfully you were also given a hoodie to hide that embarrassing shirt.
>You eagerly cover your Creep torso with the bubblegum pink hoodie.
>”Aw, you look great Barney!”
>The leader gives you a thumbs up, grinning that shit eating grin.
>At this point you just can’t take it anymore and start to cry.
>Again.
>It’s not super deep sobs or anything.
>But tears are definitely streaming down your face.
>The leader walks over and…
>Wraps you in a big hug?
>”It’s okay Barney, we love you now. Our love is weird and love hurts sometimes…”
>He leans in close, whispering.
>”But we will love you forever. Because you’re ours.”
>”Forever.”

>”So Barney!”
>The leader lets go of you and smirks.
>”Where do you live? With your parents? An apartment?”
>Oh fuck.
>This question cannot be good for you.
>They’re probably making sure that you don’t run away from them.
>But at the same time they’re probably not going to let you run away anyways.
“I… uh… why do you ask?”
>You wince, half expecting to be reprimanded.
>Instead he pats your shoulder and puts on that fake smile.
>At least you assume it’s fake.
>”We can’t have you going back to a roommate or your parents can we? They’d notice!”
“I uh… I do rent a kinda small place not too far from here.”
>”Rent eh? How do you pay your rent?”
“Landlord comes and picks it u-”
>”Ah, that’s what I thought. Yeah, he’d notice your new makeover!”
“So what am I going to do?”
>”You get to live with some of the boys! Don’t worry, you won’t be living in the warehouse. I have a feeling that’s not your style.”
>No fucking kidding it’s not.
“Do you like… own some properties or something?”
>”Why yes! You see, it’s quite easy to buy a property when the former homeowner has tried some of your cookies.”
“You turned them into Creeps and stole their houses?”
>”Houses taken? Yes! Turned them into Creeps? Nah. We gave them a different flavor.”
>You don’t want to know.
>Okay, you kind of do, but deep down you know you’ll hate the answer.

>A few Creeps escort you back to your house.
>It feels really awkward walking down the street as a purple dinosaur.
>This part of town is still mostly empty, but you do get some people who look at you.
>They shoot the same look you did when you first saw the Creep in the window.
>”What the fuck are these kids doing?”
>You try to ignore and thankfully get back to your place quickly.
>”Alright Barney,” says one Creep wearing a blonde wig and sunglasses, “Boss says you can bring as much shit as you can carry. And this will be your only trip back here.”
“Alright…”
>You start shoving stuff in a backpack.
>You try and grab some clothes but are quickly vetoed.
“I need more than one outfit y’know.”
>”The Boss will take care of you. Besides, you don’t sweat anymore, unless you’re a messy eater or like to mud wrestle I doubt your clothes will dirty quickly.”
“Right… It’s just… a thong?”
>The blonde Creep snickers.
>”I dunno man, it suits you.”
“Fuck off.”
>”Hey! Barney has bite! Thank fuck, I thought we’d have another crybaby.”
>Much to your surprise the wig wearing Creep actually starts helping you pack after that.
“So uh… were you a human before too?”
>He nods.
>”Most of us were. Only the Boss and his captains are original Creeps. And even then they might have been human before they got to this town.”
“Do you… like it?”
>”Do I like being in a gang of dinosaurs, not paying rent, getting paid well, and having some weird magic shit at my disposal? Fuck yeah I do.”
“Glad you have such a positive outlook I guess.”
>”It comes with time… Oh shit, is that a Switch? Man, whoever lives with you is going to love you.”

>Once you’ve packed up your two bags of personal belongings you’re lead away from your house.
>You’ve never really liked your house, but it was your house.
>Shitty landlord, leaky faucet, bad neighbors, they were all yours.
>So you do feel a tinge of… melancholy as you leave.
>But then you see where the Creeps stop.
>It’s not a mansion, not in this city, but it’s big.
>It’s one of those old, historic style homes you see on the outskirts of the city.
>It’s three stories tall, it looks massive.
>They’re the kind of houses you walk past and wonder, “who the hell lives there?”
>You’d have never guessed the answer would be purple raptors.
>Inside things are… messy.
>There’s graffiti and the like, some things are strewn about.
>Gives off a real “shitty frat house” vibe.
>You’re led upstairs and to a door to the far left.
>”Barney” is spray painted on with purple paint.
>You hold your breath as you walk into the room.
>Much to your surprise it’s… clean.
>There’s a full sized bed, a desk, a dresser, there’s no grafiti, you even have a mini fridge.
>You look over at your guide in confusion.
>”Everybody gets one room, they do with it what they see fit. They’re not allowed to trash empty rooms for future Creeps. If you want it trashy, that’s your prerogative.”
>With a sigh of relief you walk into your room and flop onto the bed.
>”The Boss should be by in a couple hours, until then, get comfy. The kitchen is communal, any food in there is fair game. People keep their personal grub in their rooms.”
“The Boss lives here?”
>”Yeah, he’s got the master bedroom. Lucky you, getting into his house. He only keeps his favorites here.”
“And it’s this messy?”
>”You should see the other houses.”
>With that he walks out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

>Now that you’re alone you finally have time to let this all sink in.
>You’re not human anymore.
>That has been taken away from you by a gang of baking dinosaurs.
>And beyond that, you’ve been conscripted to join their ranks.
>You’re living in a house they stole from someone, wearing clothes they forced you into.
>This is all objectively pretty fucking awful.
>Like, god damn.
>But at the same time you’re not having a breakdown.
>You sit there, waiting for it to all just snap.
>But it doesn’t.
>You sort of feel numb, like you’re in utter disbelief.
>Which is a pretty fair response you think.
>Your introspection is interuppted by… your phone buzzing?
>It takes you a second to find it, someone tucked in the top drawer of your new desk.
>Along with your wallet and a few chocolate chip cookies wrapped in cling wrap.
>The message is from a new contact: “Boss”.
>”Hey Barney, I hear you’re finally all settled in your room. Get nice and comfy my man. And don’t worry, these cookies won’t do anything weird to you. Bistro just wanted to share.”
>You send him a reply, your claws working surprisingly well on the touch screen.
“What am I going to do about work? And family?”
>That’s really a bluff.
>You hate both of those things almost equally and don’t give two shits.
>But he doesn’t know that
>”Don’t sweat it Barney. You can quit your job and as for your family. We’ll handle that when a problem arises.”
>You sigh, that’s fair enough.
>Wait no, you shouldn’t be saying “fair enough” about your technical captor.
>”Oh, btw Barney, I’m going to stop my McD on my way home. Can I get you anything?”

>Exactly on cue your stomach rumbles.
>You are starving!
>It makes sense though.
>The only food you’ve really had today were those hot as fuck cookies they shoved down your gullet.
“Yeah, just a burger will be fine.”
>”Two Big Macs it is!”
“What? No, I don’t need that much.”
>”Creeps have big appetites Barney, and your changes burnt a lot of calories. I’ll actually get you three, just to be safe.”
>You really don’t know how to respond.
>The easiest option is just agreement, but you don’t want to agree with him.
>So you just don’t respond.
>You spend the next couple hours taking a nap.
>It helps you ignore being hungry and a dinosaur, so overall it’s a pretty positive experience.
>When you wake up you see “Boss” sitting in your desk chair.
>He’s wearing a big bomber jacket and a speedo.
>Thinking back on it you can’t even recall if he was wearing pants earlier.
>You were too busy being terrified to notice.
>But you certainly notice now.
>He smiles and stands up, handing you a somewhat greasy bag.
>”Dig in Barney,” he remarks.
>You blink, still fixated on him.
“Were you wearing pants earlier?”
>”Hmm?”
>He looks down at his exposed reptile legs and chuckles.
>”If I wanted to I could walk around with my cock flailing about Barney, this is technically me being modest. And speaking of modesty, I’ll give you the dignity of having this first meal alone.”
>He gives you a playful salute and saunters out of your room, closing the door behind him.

>You don’t waste any time digging into your food.
>McDonalds is shitty, but at this point you’re not really going to be picky about food.
>You notice he ordered the Big Macs without lettuce or tomato.
>Not the worst thing to have left off of course.
>Opening your new maw you take a testing bite of the burger.
>And holy shit.
>The flavor as it hits your tongue is indescribable.
>Even though the burger is not great, it doesn’t matter.
>You fucking love it.
>Your eyes widen as you gobble down the rest of the burger.
>And then the next one.
>And then the other one too.
>You manage to eat without making too much of a mess.
>But at the same time you make more than a few noises you’re glad nobody was around to hear.
>If someone played a recording of the sounds, you’d probably assume they were the sounds of a pig making love to a monster with the sniffles.
>But in the moment?
>You don’t give a fuck.
>You just savor the fuckin’ flavor.
>The fact that a McDonalds burger can make you feel so good is insane.
>McDonalds is the food you eat when you’re too broke or too lazy to do better.
>But right now it feels like comfort food you’d go out of your way to get.
>Fuck yeah.
>When you’re done eating you just kind of sit there, looking at the discarded trash from your meal on your bed.
>Part of you has trouble believing you were that into something so… trashy food wise.
>Speaking of: you don’t see a trashcan in your room.
>A little off put by how lost in the meal you got, you push the trash under your bed.
>And from there you lie back on your bed, wondering just how good a steak would taste now.

>Your quiet relaxing is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a knock on your door.
>It’s loud and a bit forceful, but you’re just glad that people have the decency to knock at all.
>Sighing a little, you hop up onto your feet and go over to your door.
>Upon opening it up you see… a human?
>They’re a pale skinned man wearing jeans and a Liberty University sweater.
>”Hey there, I noticed we had a new guy, thought I’d check in.”
>You say the first, most obvious thing that comes to mind.
“You’re a human?”
>He chuckles a little, running a hand through his hair as if to taunt your lack thereof.
>”You didn’t know? Creeps can disguise themselves as humans.”
”R-really?!”
>Your heart soars, you couldn’t be happier to hear that.
>”Mmhm, any pure blooded Creep can look like a human, it’s sort of a cloaking mechanism.”
“Wait, pure blooded? Does that mean…?”
>”You’re shit out of luck kid. You’re a Creep, but it’s like you married into it. You’re one of us, but you don’t get all the perks.”
>Your head lowers in a mix of sadness and anger.
>The odds that this guy was just wearing his human form to get a rise out of you are fairly high you think.
>But, come to think of it…
“Does this mean you’re one of the boss’s captains?”
>He smiles, his teeth sharp and fanglike.
>”Oh hey, you learn fast! Yeah, I’m one of the original members here. Richie and I go way back.”
“Richie?”
>”The boss, that’s his name.”
“I guess I expected Creep names to be a little… I dunno… exotic?”
>”When your society develops essentially right next to and among humans for centuries, things sort of blend together.”
>He puts his hands together, fingers interlocking to demonstrate this.
>One hand is still human, but the other has shifted to a Creep claw.
>You have to admit, it’s a pretty sweet visual aid.
>You just wish you could do it too.

>”I got to say Barney, I’m very surprised you’re here right now.”
“What do you mean? I can’t exactly run away.”
>”Well first off, you just might be able to, but mostly I’m surprised you’re in this house.”
“I was told this is the boss’s so… yeah, I’m a bit surprised too.”
>”He only brings his most trusted boys here. The captains, Bistro, some of our more respectable Creeps, the ones Richie feels most comfortable with.”
>And yet you, a random stranger who didn’t even want to be apart of this, are also here.
>”I can see on your face you’re just as perplexed as I am.”
>This captain, now fully in his Creep form chuckles.
>”Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset or anything, I’m just very, very intrigued.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
>You rub your arm awkwardly.
>”I’m Marv by the way.”
“Oh uh… nice to meet you?”
>He laughs out loud.
>”Is it Barn? Is it? Or do you hate this? Do you hate Richie and me?”
“I-”
>He pats your shoulder, chuckling.
>”Rhetorical question, I honestly don’t give a shit. You’re a Creep, you’re here now. That’s all I need.”
“...What exactly am I going to be doing here?”
>”Since Richie put you here, probably something a little better than I’d give you.”
“And what would you give me job wise?”
>He shrugs, “you’d make a decent whore for the other boys.”
"Eew."
>"Don't judge Barn."

>You do not like the thought of that.
>The idea of being forced into being some sort of sex slave sends shivers down your spine.
>You already feel like “fresh meat” enough as is.
>That context makes it feel all the… more uncomfortable.
>”Lucky for you, that’s not my call to make. Richie owns you.”
“Owns me…?”
>He nods, “yeah, none of us captains can touch you, because you’re one of Richie’s boys. I have my boys, the other captains have theirs, and then Richie has his.”
“So he doesn’t… literally own me?”
>”He might as well, given that you’re not going anywhere he doesn’t want you to. We both know that.”
“Yeah… I guess.”
>”Oh, and a bit of a tip. If you actually care about your family, tell Richie you don’t have much contact with them and sell it. Hard.”
>You cock your head in confusion.
>”Richie’s a fun guy, he’s a great boss, but if there’s one thing he hates, its loose ends.”
“O-oh yeah?”
>”Richie’s half cool older brother, half mob boss. Ain’t no telling what he’d do to your family, what kind of cookie they’d be eating if they even get that luxury, but the last thing they’d be able to do is serve as a trail back to Richie.”
>You gulp, your throat suddenly feeling really dry.
>You can’t tell if he’s trying to spook you or genuinely warn you about your family’s well being.
>Even though you don’t give a shit about most of them, you still hate the thought of being the cause of something bad happening to them.
>Well, to most of them.
>Some of them could probably do well with having a cookie or something shoved down their mouth.
>But still…
>You think back to when you first met Richie.
>How quickly he went from joking to threatening to cut you with his claw.
>It was unnerving then, and even more unnerving now.
>The captain chuckles, giving your face a light slap.

>”Hey, wake up, you’ve got company. Another one of Reggie’s boys.”
>He slinks away from your door, another creep bounding right over to take his place.
>”Helloooo Barney!”
>Bistro’s eyes twinkle with excitement as he looks you over.
“Um… hi?”
>”We didn’t get to properly meet each other earlier I’m afraid I’m-”
“Bistro, the chef, I know.”
>You catch him mid flourish of his chef’s hat.
>He merely giggles, plopping his hat back on top of his head.
>”And you are Barney, the new guy! I suppose we’re better acquainted than I thought.”
“Uh huh… you weren’t always a Creep?”
>Bistro blinks, a little caught off guard by the question.
>”Well of course not!”
“How’d they… change you then?”
>”Oh goodness,” Bistro lets out a long sigh, leaning against the wall of the hallway.
“Long story?”
>”Is it ever! I could go on for days about how poor their baking skills were. Poor Reg can treat a boy so well but the sweetheart can’t bake for his life! Gah, it’s no wonder why they recruited me so early on…”
“You were always a baker then?”
>Bistro nods, pulling his phone out of his flower caked apron pocket.
>A few swipes later and he’s shoving his phone in your face.
>It’s a young Asian-American man, looks to be in his mid twenties. He’s got a bit of stubble on his face and tired looking eyes.
>You notice he’s wearing a chef coat, standing in some fancy looking kitchen.
>It’s some cooking magazine spread.
“Is that… you?”
>”It was~!”
“And you’re not angry? It looks like you had quite the career starting…”
>”Cooking is fun Barney dear, but only when you’re the head chef. Working under the constraints of all these rules and stuffy old sous chefs drove me insane. It made my passion into just work. Reg helped me spark that passion back up again.”
>Bistro speaks of Reggie so wistfully.
>He looks up and sighs, like picturing some unobtainable fantasy.

“Still… you could have been big potentially.”
>”Barney dear, it’s a lot more fun to be the Baking Bob Ross than Gordon Ramsay.”
>You sigh a little.
>Maybe you should stop trying to understand Creeps. It’s… draining.
“Anyways uh… did you want anything?”
>”Oooh, yes!”
>Bistro claps his hands together and takes a deep breath.
>”Reg was oh so gracious enough to let me ask you if you’d like to try baking with me!”
“B-Baking?”
>”Yeah! Isn’t it exciting? I have a few assistants, but I haven’t gotten around to properly training a second chef. And if we expand any more, we’ll definitely need one!”
>You want to say no.
>But you think back to that captain and his desire to put make you a whore.
>Cooking sounds way comfier than… that.
“And it’d just be baking?”
>”Well no… baking would be a big part of it, but you’d also handle some distribution! I’d say a 50/50 split dear.”
“Distribution? You mean… turning people into Creeps?”
>”That and so much more my friend. The ingredients Reg gives me can be so… fun to experiment with.”
>Bistro winks.
>You’re instantly reminded of a little detail Reggie mentioned.
>You’ll probably be happier if you don’t ask, but…
“What kind of cookie did you guys feed the owner of this house?”
>Bistro pauses, tapping his chin with a claw.
>”Gosh Barney, I wish I could tell you. Reg was still baking back then, and he did not keep any recipes other than the Creep Cookie, one I’ve vastly changed you know!”
“Oh… okay then.”
>”Like would you believe the cookies were oatmeal raisin at first? Reg thought he could mask the flavor of his secret ingredients with dried up raisins! The poor thing didn’t even know what chocolate was!”
>Bistro giggles a hearty, happy giggle.
>He’s talking like this is all casual, normal stuff.
>His positivity is like a flu.
>You can’t help but catch it and chuckle softly too.

>”But I digress,” Bistro takes his phone back and plops it in the apron pocket, “I would just love to have you in the kitchen with me.”
“I can give it a try, it beats the alternative.”
>”Ooh, did someone else already try to offer you a job?”
“I was told I’d uh… make a ‘great whore’.”
>Bistro looks you over, his playful demeanor suddenly giving way to quiet analysis.
>”Hmm, well dear, I can’t say he lied to you.”
>Your face goes flush as the scantily clad baker looks you over.
“W-well I don’t think that’s the career path for me…”
>”Aw, that’s reasonable,” Bistro giggles, “besides, I’d much rather teach you the fundamentals of cooking then watch you dance on the pole.”
“The what now?”
>”Oh, we’ve got a stripper pole, back in the club. I can only imagine you’d be hanging out there if you were given that job. Not that the pole is just for our lovely sex workers. I’m known to give a little show every now and again.”
>Bistro nudges you playfully, as if he’s inviting you to take a front row seat one night.
>And honestly that doesn’t even sound half bad, Bistro is pretty cute…
>Wait.
>Did you just…?
>You did not just think that.
“H-hey uh… so your cookies changed my name right… Did that change anything else?”
>”Outside of your body? Not at all! Just a little name change for you!”
>Oh fuck.
>Bistro could be lying, but he’s honestly the last one you’d imagine being a bold faced liar.
>But at the same time, you don’t actually think Creeps are cute.
>There’s no way!
>No way at all.

“Anyways uh… yeah, I’ll try out working in the kitchen I guess.”
>Bistro gives you a hug, his large purple tail flicking around behind him.
>”Aaaw, thanks Barney! I’ll be sure to make it extra fun! Don’t you worry!”
>You squirm a little in his embrace but don’t exactly break out of it.
>It’s Bistro who ends the hug, adjusting his hat afterwards.
>”Anywho, you should let Reg know! In the meantime I have some recipes to write out!”
>Bistro turns and heads upstairs.
>His bare ass is on full display, he really isn’t wearing anything behind that apron.
>You avert your gaze, half out of respect, half out of timid modesty.
>Once he’s gone you pull out your phone and send Reggie a text.
“Just talked with Bistro, I’m taking him up on the offer.”
>”Oh sweet,” replies Reggie a few moments later.
>You could leave it at that, but your curiosity just can’t help it.
“What would have happened if I said no?”
>”Hm?”
>”Oh, I’d have just found you something else to do. Trying to get some more influence online, along with trying to scout out new secondary locations to set up at. So probably something in that field. Or if you weren’t up for that, some basic street level distribution or average grunt work.”
>You let out a little sigh of relief, knowing that prostitute was not on Reggie’s short list.
“I see. Yeah, cooking sounds fine. As long as I’m not dancing on that pole or whatever.”
>”Oh, you met Ash lol.”
“Is Ash one of your captains?”
>”Yeah, he’s in charge of entertainment for the boys, sort of like a community manager or whatever.”
“Makes sense.”
>”Don’t worry, Ash is just a little upset he doesn’t get first dibs like he normally does.”
“I won’t. Thanks.”
>You put your phone back in your pocket and sigh.
>Part of you thinks you should be way less casual about all of this.
>You just spoke with a raptor gang leader about why you’re not going to be a raptor sex slave.
>All on the same exact day said raptors forced you into their gang.
>But here you are, taking it like a champ all things considered.
>Why can’t you just despise every bit of this like a normal person?