The troll had been the talk of the town for a brief period, with the monster quickly replacing Art the Clown as the Must-Have costume for Halloween.
The locals, if nothing else, were actually enthusiastic about an out-of-towner for once, for in an act that was in total stark comparison to Garou Loveless’ visit, the town rallied with the excitement over the troll, theming their entire Halloween celebration around trolls and the legends surrounding them.
The children got to play a game called Spot the Troll in which an older beast would man a spotlight while the kids scampered around in the dark. If the light was turned on and a contestant was caught in the light, they were out of the game. The others would have hidden behind the multitude of straw bales that had been set up in the field beside the gymnasium. The winner walked away with a gift card to any store of their choice.
While the children played, the adults held more serious talks about the troll and where it could have possibly come from, nevermind the whole part about its head exploding from the back, something the examiner had determined to have been caused by a high-powered, long-range mana rifle, evident of a lack of any sort of casing in the corpse.
Nobeast ever came forward to claim the bounty, nor had anyone else registered to hunt it, and after a week, the payment found its way into Advrik’s bank account. The wolf divided it up, with a quarter of it going to Brigid and Desmond, the third stating in his own account, and fourth going to the town funds in order to help repair some of the damage caused during the fight.
Now, with most damage repaired and the town having gotten back to normal, a new, even more terrifying event lay waiting just a short while away: The Presidential Elections.
***
November 2nd, 2024, 11:32am
Advrik’s house.
“You see, you'd love to run home, but you know you ain't got one ”
The sky was crystal clear, following another front having swept across the state. Not a cloud for miles in any direction, and the town was out and about going about its usual business. Friendly faces walked down the street, passing the little plot of land that was the 20x20 square foot yard that stretched out from the wolf’s quaint two-story townhouse to the sidewalk.
Using the money from the troll hunt, the wolf had ripped up the gnarly-looking black iron fencing, replacing it with something resembling the neighbors’s fence, giving the block a bit more uniformity.
“Cause you're living in a world that you're best forgotten around here ”
‘Broadway’ by the Goo Goo Dolls was playing, the volume kept an acceptable level that reached the wolf’s ears while he worked several feet away.
“Are you really putting Christmas decorations up already?” Brigid asked, leaning against the post that connected the small porch to the awning. She wore a black and pink hoodie over a black t-shirt and torn black pants.
“Sure. Doesn’t everyone this time of year?” the wolf replied.
“Not really, no. I never did, at least. Eligh doesn’t either.”
“Huh,” Advrik said, hopping down off the stool, grabbing the dangling string of lights and walking it across the door frame, dragging the stool with his right foot.
“I’ve always felt that waiting until after Harvest Day left too little time to really appreciate and enjoy the holiday and decorations and stuff,” he paused, unsure of what sort of response he’d receive from his partner.
His partner.
He smiled, then looked over his shoulder at her.
“The fuck you smiling at?” She rose from the refurbished garden bench and climbed the steps. The fox slipped her arms around Advrik’s waist, hugging him from behind and resting her head on his right shoulder.
“Oh, nothing, just… Just had a nice little thought is all.”
“Well, stop being retarded and get this done so we can go to lunch.” She snapped before giving him a little peck on the back of his neck, sending shivers down his body.
Johnny Rzenik was about to finish the third and final chorus for Broadway when the signal was interrupted by the morning DJ, claiming to have a piece of breaking news for the political-minded among his viewers.
“In an unscheduled press conference just a few moments ago, Republican presidential candidate Beltold Grump has dropped out of the race just a week from the election, though offering no explanation or reasons why for the sudden removal of his name from the ballot.”
“Oh shit, what a puss!” the fox remarked.
Advrik stepped down from the stool and hopped off the porch, retrieving his bluetooth speaker.” Ya know what? Let’s go get something to eat now before the rush starts. Brock’s Bistro sound good to you?”
The diner was bustling with activity as it was on most days around noon. Townies heading in and out on their lunch breaks, old timers just wanting to take a load off and partake in some of the finest meat cuts the East Coast has to offer, or so claims the owner.
Brickhedge residents wouldn’t claim to be politically minded. In fact, the majority of those who call the beautiful little town aren’t even registered to vote, save for a few… exceptional… individuals.
Most townies would even go as far as shying away or even completely shooting down discussions of such topics, likening the mindfuck that religion and politics have on one’s psyche to hard drugs. A feeling that Advrik himself jived with.
Brigid and Advrik sat facing one another at a corner table, near opposite the booth he and Desmond had used the night the troll came to town. Lunch had progressed smoothly enough, with the fox winning the paper-rock-scissors battle to decide who paid.
Advrik ordered a plate of chicken tenders with a side of hushpuppies, and Brigid got the pulled barbecue pork and a side of coleslaw. Both trays were hand delivered by Brock himself.
Now one wouldn’t be remiss at all to think of Mr. Brock Gainax to be some fierce, tell-it-to-your-face sort of beast. A warthog with just as much fat on him as muscle and not enough height to carry either one. But get to talking to him, and you will quickly find out that appearances don’t always reflect what’s within.
“Ohmygod, Advrik? Is Advrik Drahcir in my bistro again so soon? I hope your company tonight isn’t as destructive as the one you brought here in the other night!” He said, his voice flamboyantly gay but coated in a gravelly texture.
The wolf’s ears started to flatten as Brigid shot him a glance that asked the question, “Company? What company?”
“Boy howdy, lemme’ tell ya, sweetheart, I was sweating like Richard Simmons the second that street lamp impaled itself in the sidewalk. This wolf really knows how to pick his dinner dates.” The giant warthog finished, giving Advrik a playful bump on the shoulder and a wink at Brigid.
Brigid had chambered a comment and was just about to pull the trigger when the door to the diner flung open.
“Fucking goddamn Miribel shitface Oniker!” the familiar, all-too-sexy lion shouted, receiving a series of nods and replies of agreement.
“Brock. Philly cheesesteak, a side of kettle-cooked chips. Hold the banana peppers, please.” She said, out of breath as she slipped past the hog, handing him a twenty and telling him to keep the change.
“You got it, girlfriend.”
The lioness sauntered up to the table that her friends had taken up and pulled over a chair. Her scrubs clinging tight to her ample breasts soaked all the way through. A sight to behold.
Both the fox and the wolf had to peel their eyes away before she finished running her fingers through her hair.
“Problem at the office, doctor?” Brigid asked.
“You’ve no goddamn idea the morning I’ve had. I’m guessing you heard the news?”
The trio discussed the surprising news of Grump’s dropout from the race, the ripples of effects it was going to have on the political landscape and where it might put Loveless in the polls. Would all early voters be granted the opportunity to change their vote in light of it? Who honestly gave two shits outside of those that benefited from having their favorite puppet in the oval office.
“And of course, this news had to come out right before the most disgusting, sexist, misogynistic, transphobic, racist mouse this side of the motherfucking planet was set to come in for her bi-weekly exam.” She leaned back in her chair, holding her hands out and accentuating her soaked-through scrubs. “The old bitch grabbed my bottle of water and dumped it on me!”
“And I don’t even want to repeat any of the nasty things she said to Leif, poor guy. Said he was okay, but I doubted it.”
“Here you are, ladies. Sir.” The bulky warthog appeared carrying three plates with generous portions atop. “Eat up!” he said as he walked away to tend to another customer.
“Please tell me you dropped the cunt nugget as a patient?” Brigid replied before taking a big bite out of her sandwich.
The lion exhaled and shook her head. “You bet your exceptionally developed ass I did. I try to be kind and accepting of others, but that woman is a perfect example of what is wrong with the politics in this goddamn country.
“How about you, Advrik? How has today’s news affected you, sir wolf?” the lion asked.
He swallowed a bite of his sandwich, then shrugged his shoulders. “Going to be blatantly honest with you, and I know Brigid can relate with me on this, but I can’t stand the discussion of politics of any kind, so if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not chime in.”
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