Who: Squee, Loofa, and Yahoo the demons, some poor kid just trying to do his job, & Joel Hammond Where: The Corner Liquor Store When: Late afternoon, early evening What: The drinking age might be 18 in Vallo but you still need to provide an ID Rating: PG - no real warnings
“You said we needed ID for the booze. We got ID now.” The tall burly biker man with the ‘FAST LIFE’ tattoo across his forehead and arms built like tree trunks glared across the counter at the young man who shooed them out earlier. A smarter man might have gone to another store with less rigorous ID checking but Squee had never been blessed with an abundance of brains or reason. He wanted to party and this liquor store was the closest place to where he’d picked up his meatsuit. Since the corpse had no personal effects on it, he and his fellow demons did the next best thing and picked up an ID and a face to match on the street and convinced them help.
And by help he meant ‘forced’.
The young clerk’s gaze darted back and forth between Squee and Yahoo wearing a former linebaker before landing on the man between them, tall and lanky, upper arms grasped by thick meaty hands, definitely nearing a midlife crisis or breakdown of some kind. Squee gave the man a hard shake and he immediately dug his wallet of his hoodie pocket and held out his ID. The clerk took the ID from him and glanced at the picture. Yup. The Joel Hammond in the picture and the Joel Hammond in front of him were the same guy right down to the strained and nervous toothy smile.
“Okay,” the clerk said slowly as he handed the ID back, “so you’re buying all this?” He casually motioned to the bottles stacked up on the counter, at least a few hundred worth of liquor.
“I’m not sure about that Mad Do - ah ahhhh YES.” Squee gripped Joel’s arm tighter, fingernails digging in to his forearm and Joel yelped and tried to cover with a hysterical laugh. “Just kidding, just kidding. Good stuff, that Mad Dog.” With another squeeze, he quickly pulled his credit card from his wallet and dropped it on the counter.
Squee heard a shuffle of slippers behind them and glanced back to see Loofa making their slow and steady way up the aisle. The elderly woman passed at home, still wearing her worn housecoat and curlers but moved a damn sight faster with Loofa behind the wheel. “You done yet? We got the van outside.”
The rustle of bags drew Squee’s attention back and he nodded as the clerk started bagging up the bottles. “I’m sorry you lost your ID and I’m very sure on a better day you would be able to buy your own liquor. Can I - “ Squee withdrew his tight grip on Joel’s arm and slung his arm over the man’s shoulders, giving him a playful shake. Joel went rigid in his arms, eyes growing wider.
“Now why would we do that? Yahoo, Loofa, get the bags. We’re, ah, gonna return this man’s hospitality.” Squee gave Joel a hearty pat on the chest which elicited a quiet ‘oof’. He turned away from the counter, dragging him reluctantly down the aisle towards the doorway.
“You seem like you need to let loose a little. Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you nice and loose. You’re in good hands.”