Sunday 8 March 2020

500 Words a Day - the Fantasy Pub


This one kind of ran away from me. Not sure how much sense it makes but here you are.


“You should have seen tonight’s catch, my man, it was a real shiner!” Timmy the tooth fairy gestured with his pint glass enthusiastically. “A real shiner!”
“Oh yeah?” nodded his colleague Kate absentmindedly, without much enthusiasm.
“Yeah, I tell you,” continued Timmy, warming to his theme, “don’t get them like that very often any more. Y’know,” he said taking a big swig of beer, “back in the old days kids used to respect us, right? Used to treat us nicely, right? A bit of kindness for the old tooth fairy, maybe a little note under the pillow thanking us kindly and so on and such like. Am I right?”
“Course you’re right Timmy,” mumbled Kate, putting her head on the table and staring at the rising bubbles inside her drink as her wings began to droop behind her.
“But now! None of that, and I mean none of it. Bloody hell, we’re lucky if they even put the tooth under the pillow at all! It’s almost like they don’t care what happens to their teeth any more. I don’t know, man, I don’t know.”
Kate’s eyes began to close. She had had some long nights searching kids’ bedrooms for their missing milk teeth but without much success, and lugging the coins around had given her wing-strain. She just needed a bit of a rest, and then she could get right back to it.
Dimly, Kate could sense some of the other patrons of the bar, and their gentle hum of conversation was downright soothing. There were some cupids in the back, waiting for Valentine’s Day and everyone to get off Grindr. A couple of bunnies downing shots of chocolate milk. At the back, Kate thought she could hear someone faintly singing “Ding dong merrily on high”, which meant the Elves were already wasted.
“Here, hold up a minute,” Timmy muttered under his breath, nudging Kate back to wakefulness. “Look who’s gone and bloody walked in through the door.”

“Who is it Timmy?” Kate said blinking.
“If it isn’t bloody Elijah himself,” Timmy said, putting his glass down on the table and standing up.
Elijah was striding through the door and aiming for a seat at the bar, but Timmy got up to intervene.
“What do you think you’re doing here, Elijah? Not had enough wine at Passover Seder? Need to get bloody pissed in our bloody pub?”
“I’m not looking for trouble Mr Tooth Fairy,” Elijah said, putting his hands up and framing his long wiry beard. “Just looking for a drink in a nice quiet pub”.
“Oh you are? Mister Elijah is looking for a drink in the bloody pub for fictional characters! The trouble is, mate, you ain’t no fictional character!”
“Yes I am,” Elijah protested, “no real person could visit every seder table and drink a spot of wine without being seen by the children.”
“That’s just a myth, mate, and you know it,” Timmy said, advancing on the hapless prophet.
“What about Saturday nights? I always travel the world on Saturday nights, giving everyone a little blessing as the sabbath goes out.”
“Oh yeah? Think that makes you fictional, do you? This here pub is a nice place for nice people, nice Christian people.”
“But what about the bunnies - what’s Christian about eating chocolate eggs?”
“They’re for bloody easter,” Timmy snarled, “now get out before I make myself a collection from your mouth!”
Elijah hurried out the bar in a whirlwind.
“Bloody prophets,” sighed Timmy, getting back to his drink, “never know when they’re not wanted.”
But Kate was already asleep, dreaming of human children and their bad dental hygiene.

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