Kev thought about Warlock's answer. The otter hadn't denied that Baphomet was interested in Fang due to his lineage. He had actually said that the goat had thought about Fang but was dissuaded by the wolf's... wolfishness.
Before he could ask again, the slider door opened.
Fang gestured for Baphomet to enter. The Mafia Don walked in with his usual quiet dignity, his steps silent on the slate floor. He stood behind his chair, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression serene and unreadable. Fang walked around the table and took his own seat.
Fang leaned over to Horns. "We need a room on the second floor arranged for a guest we will be hosting."
Horns lit a joint and chuckled. "No problem, boss."
Fang raised an eyebrow. "On the second floor," he said, emphasizing the significance of the word.
Blowing out a cloud of smoke, the moose nodded. "Yep. The one above this one."
Fang shook his head before turning to Kev. "Someone has heard wonderful things about the accommodations here."
Kev grimaced. "Yeah... part of the tour... I didn't realize the second floor was off-limits..."
Fang sighed. "Maybe you should have read the waiver." The wolf shook his head lightly before saying, "It was a good thing though.... Pops over there was concerned that this place might scare his star squealer off."
"Oh, Sterling, no need to take your seat," Baphomet's voice pulled Kev's attention before he could ask if Fang even knew what the species-bias case was about. "I am just going to take one last look around, and we will be leaving." The goat continued, "Nail, Kick, you are free to inspect the rest of the club at your leisure and document what you need to. Whatever you think will put poor Mr. Indy's mind at ease."
"So, I already looked around," Nail said, "and the area is not conducive to sleep. If he has to stay down here, or worse, over in 'perv paradise,' he's going to fall asleep on the stand."
"She's right," Kick said. "Sorry, Mr. B."
Baphomet nodded, the bell on his neck jingling slightly. "You may inform him there are private residences here. I cannot show you them. It is a blessing from my son that Mr. Indy will be allowed to stay there for the next week. But please have faith. Although there may not be electricity, there is a warm bed and shelter from the cold."
"And no one can get to him here," Kick said, pushing himself back from the table and standing. "He's gonna bitch about it, but he knows this is the safest place for him right now."
Nail stood from her seat too. "Off-grid, but only fifteen minutes from the courthouse. Who could ask for a better hideout?"
Fang laughed. "Fifteen? It only takes Perry eight."
The donkey and the woodpecker looked at each other, both sure it was a good fifteen minutes to the courthouse. They were there very often.
"Well," Kick said, breaking the silence, "it was good to finally meet you, Mr. Fang." The donkey-man reached out and shook the wolf's hand. "I'll start checking out the files that Bozo.. I mean, my buddy Boze, put together on your case. I'm sure there are some people that will be good to get on the stand and tug the jury's heartstrings a bit."
Nail reached out her hand next. "I'll look over the documents too. If I am to believe Bozo over there is telling the truth, then I will pick apart the fluff and show the judge irrefutable proof that you have been wronged."
The pair moved to the door, not bothering to say goodbye to the rest of the diners. "Hey, wait!" Bozeman groaned as he pushed himself up from the table. The chameleon looked quite defeated and embarrassed, his scales a sickly, mottled grey. He clutched a stack of papers to his chest like a shield and shuffled after the other lawyers, his head down, a picture of pure, dejected misery… like a kid who'd just been told the ice cream truck only had grilled cauliflower.
"Well, Warlock, my boy," Baphomet said, once the moping reptile had exited the room, "it is time for us to take our leave as well."
Warlock stood, then snapped his fingers. "The gift!" he exclaimed. "You haven't shown brother the gift you got him yet!"
Kev was surprised. A gift for joining a club? Maybe it was some sort of t-shirt or a hat. Kev tried not to laugh as he imagined Fang in an IBM t-shirt, trying to troubleshoot a caller's internet issues.
"You're right," Baphomet said, before turning to his cowboy companion. "Could you bring in Fang's gift? I believe it's in the room across the hall still."
Sterling nodded and sauntered out past Rex. As he did, Rex tensed and jerked his head forward in a quick, aggressive flinch test. The cobra, however, just walked by, his pace unhurried, his gaze fixed on the door, completely unfazed.
Fang sighed. "You didn't have to get me anything, Pops. I've already got what I want, and you're helping me keep it with those suits."
Baphomet shook his finger. "We are all in suits, my son. Lawyers are an unfortunate reality during... passionate disputes. But let us not mire ourselves in the painful past. Let us look forward to a brighter future. I know that you can get whatever you want, so I wanted to make sure we gave you something special. A symbol for the city to see that you are part of my flock now."
Fang growled softly. "Really. I've got a certain aesthetic I'm trying to keep with the club... I'm sure you understand."
"Oh, that shouldn't be an issue," Baphomet said as the door opened. "You can dress him however you want."
Kev wished he hadn't turned to look. A white rabbit-man in a torn, rumpled tweed suit, a ball gag strapped tightly in his mouth, was shoved into the room by Sterling. Rex burst out laughing. Kev felt sick. It was Bryan.
"What is this?!" Fang barked, standing quickly, his chair tipping over and crashing to the floor. "Are you the rabbit with Abe?! Are you the one who tried to take Kev?!"
Kev still felt woozy from seeing his near-abductor, now fully abducted and at the whim of the venomous spitslinger. All he could do was reach blindly back and try to grab Fang's hand.
Bryan's eyes darted around the room full of dangerous-looking individuals until they landed on the human. Kev's stomach turned. He did not like the rabbit, not a single bit, but what the hell was going on right now? Bryan looked angry and began struggling uselessly against the snakeman's grip.
"My son," Baphomet said with his soft smile, "I can see you are excited already. I knew you would be. And... after the inspired choice you made during the auction, the popularity of taser implants has exploded. My son, the trendsetter." The goat let out a short, bleating laugh.
Warlock finally stood and reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a small remote control. "This is for that," he giggled, and handed Fang the small, black rectangle with a single, red button.
Kev watched in horror as the wolf hovered his thumb over the button. "Fang," Kev said, his voice a tight, strangled whisper. "What... are you doing?"
Fang looked down at Kev, then back at Bryan, his thumb hovering over the red button. "I want to... make sure it works," he growled.
"Do you not want my son to play with his gift?" Baphomet asked.
"I'm pretty sure it works," Warlock said, "but it's always good to double-check."
Bryan looked panicked. His eyes were wide with terror as Sterling pushed him hard against the dining table, forcing him to lean over it.
Kev stared up at Fang. He didn't like this at all. Bryan got Pedro'd, and it was a "gift" from Fang's new daddy. What the fuck? He had actually thought the rest of the dinner went well... other than when he'd flubbed story time... and during the eating, that was awkward... and when Fang almost lost it on the goat-man for demanding to be called "Father"... Kev sighed. Maybe dinner had only gone mediocore.
It didn't appear like anyone in the room seemed to care much about all of this. No one had gasped or said, "This is terrible." Rex had even laughed when he recognized the rabbit enforcer. So, when Fang looked down again without pressing the button, Kev was relieved.
Fang reluctantly pushed the remote into Horns's hands. "Looks like you have a new employee to help fill some of the shortages from the day-off policy."
Kev sighed. He still had no idea what the policy in this world was regarding turning other people into forced labor, but he was glad Fang did not shock the poor man in front of him.
"Do you not like my gift, son?" Baphomet asked.
"No, that's not it," Fang growled, leaning over the table. "I appreciate this, Pops. This little bunny has been an embarrassment for me..."
"Good," Baphomet beamed. "I do hope you show him off through the club. Such a magical place. No one can prove he is here unless they want to wage a full-scale war on our membership. And I do look forward to seeing you next week."
"Oh, you are returning next week?" Warlock chimed in as he followed Baphomet towards the door. "Can I come too?"
Sterling shoved the still-struggling Bryan one more time, pushing him further into the room before turning. "Sorry, Mr. Rex, sir, but you're gonna have to wrangle this little jumping bean now." He then followed Bruno out the door, after the bodies they were guarding.
Rex cracked his knuckles, a low, vicious laugh rumbling in his chest. But as he started to advance, Bryan, in a desperate, panicked move, reached out and splashed the half-full whiskey glass from the table directly into Rex's face.
"They didn't even tie his hands!" Rex roared as he sputtered and wiped the stinging liquid from his fur and eyes. He turned and yelled, "After I wash this shit off, you're dead!"
Rex, blinded by the alcohol, stumbled and blindly pulled the conservatory door open. "Fucking spitting-ass fucking shit!" he bellowed, and slammed the door behind him.
Kev glanced at Bryan, who was now frantically trying to pull his gag off.
Horns sighed. "Guess it's time to get back to work." He walked towards the end of the table and looked down at Bryan. The rabbit slowly stopped struggling with the gag as his head tilted up to take in the towering moose-man.
"Now, you're not going to be a big pain, right?" Horns sighed. "Even though you tried to kidnap little Mr. Kev over there, I want to-"
Bryan had performed a textbook mid-kick into Horns. Unfortunately, it only hit Horns' leg. He looked quite remorseful for a moment, and then Horns held up the remote and clicked the button.
Bryan's entire body went rigid. A low, strangled sound escaped from behind the gag, his eyes bulged, and he fell over like a stiff, wooden plank, landing on the slate floor with a hard thump.
Horns shook his antlers. "Why is it always the hard way with everyone?" The moose hefted up the rabbit, who was now looking a bit stunned and twitching slightly. "Let's go, you jerk. I know a room in the west wing you'll love. Abe even stayed there for a bit."
Kev had so many conflicting feelings as the moose led the taser-implanted rabbit out of the room.
Dale stood too, grabbing a few glasses from the table, including the one Sterling had spit into. "I don't know how long this stuff stays active," he said, "so I want to get it to Vlad right away."
Fang glanced over at Dale. "What are you talking about?"
Dale sighed. "You're so lucky you have the rest of us, pup."
"Yes," Fang growled, "and because I have you... please have drinks waiting for us at the VIP booth when we return."
"Celebrating a successful business meeting?" Dale asked with a grin. "How stereotypical."
Fang shrugged. "I think the rest of the dinner was quiet... unconventional."
Dale just held up the glasses and headed for the door. "Whatever you say, boss. See you back there."
Kev sat at the long, empty table in the quiet conservatory. Dinner was finally over. The remnants of their chaotic meal… crumpled napkins, empty glasses, and Nail's broken plate… were the only evidence of the strange, family meal that had just unfolded. The moonlight streamed through the glass walls, illuminating the silent, peaceful plants, a stark contrast to the violent, bizarre, and ultimately successful business meeting he had just survived.