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Sunday, July 21, 2024

LAST TAIL - Episode 21: The Lion and the Mouse

 The lioness leaned back in her chair and rubbed the bridge of her snout, her eyes burning from the dryness in her apartment. She'd kept the air conditioning unit on at full blast, disabling the thermostat. Callista wasn't a beast built for the hot weather, and while she could wear bathing suits outside to keep cool during outdoor events, inside, she relinquished all semblance of decency to the rising mercury.

She sat cross-legged in her computer chair, wearing only a pair of yellow silky panties and a loose-fitting tank top. She leaned dangerously back, almost to the point of tipping the chair over, and stretched. One arm behind her head and the other outright as her right leg shot out, her toes spreading and the claws hidden within extending, exposing their dangerous forms.

 

On her computer screen were tiny, beast-like figures wandering about a lavishly decorated home. One of the creatures had a green crystal floating atop its head. She'd been playing The Sims, recreating her office and nearby places of interest. An angry little mouse character argued with a brown wolf.

The mouse and wolf, in a scene out of a cartoon, engaged in a comically exaggerated fight. Their 3D models were obscured by a large, absurd cloud of dust, with tails, paws, and arms appearing randomly from different angles. 

Callista watched with amusement, her hopes pinned on the wolf's victory. However, her anticipation was dashed when the wolf was thrown from the dust cloud, and the mouse, seemingly unfazed, walked away as if nothing had happened.


Outside, a thunderstorm had rolled up into the mountain town, announcing its arrival with a sudden brilliant flash and the explosion of sound that followed. She'd been so engrossed with the game that she hadn't heard the distant rumbles or even the storm warning alerts on her phone.

Or the text that had said her Door Dash driver had arrived, for that matter.

A knock at the door snapped her out of the state of relaxation, her loosened muscles tightening back up as she rose from her chair.

She took a quick look at herself in the mirror by the door. It was 7pm, she was not on call, and it was her day off. So what if her hair was balled up in a big green mass atop her head or if her glasses made her look more like a ragged librarian? She was in the privacy of her own home.

And even if she wasn't, fuck the rest.

She opened the door to greet the delivery beast. It was a portly brown mouse, probably no older than eighteen, twenty at max. In his hand was a white plastic bag with a smiley face printed on the front and her General Tso chicken with fried rice within. 

She leaned tiredly against the doorframe, arms crossed, waiting for the kid to realize that he'd been staring at her chest from the very second she'd opened the door. Her nipples, hardened by the cold air of her room, pushed against the thin fabric of her shirt, acting as little "Look here! Right here!" signs.

Had her stomach not been rumbling with the thunder outside, she'd likely have let the young rodent look a bit longer, but being hungry made her irritable. 

"My food, please?" She said with a fake smile. There was no sense in being rude; he was the one who had to drive out here in the middle of a storm to deliver her dinner.

The young mouse snapped out of his trance, handing her the bag; embarrassment splashed across his face as he realized he'd been caught. "I'm sorry, miss. I--" He paused for a second, "Doctor Reigns?" He said in amazement, realizing who the recipient was before him.

The lioness' stood upright, correcting her posture before she replied, "Correct. Do I know you?" 

"Not me personally, but you're my grandmother's doctor. Miribel Oniker." He paused, remembering the rant he had to listen to the old mouse spew after the last visit. "Was it true?"

"Was what true?" She asked.

"That you dropped her as a patient? My gam-gam said that she was going to come back to your office in three months and demand youtakeherback." His sentences began to run together as he spoke as nervousness took over.

"Oh shit, no. No. I merely told her that I had the right to drop her." She took a breath, not having expected to deal with anything involving that mouse again right now. "Sorry, I shouldn't have sworn, But no, I didn't drop her... Who are you, again?" 

The mouse stood upright, his Megadeth shirt stretching out over his big round belly, which his Door Dash ID rested upon. "I'm Tyler, Tyler Oniker. I live with my grandmother, the local sexist bigot."

Callista raised an eyebrow. "Biggotry now? Can't say I'd heard that side of her yet, but she's certainly a product of her time." She said, "Not that that excuses her or anything. Pardon my French, but your grandmother is a--"

"A total bitch, I know. I live with her. Anyway, sorry to hold you up, doctor; I hope you enjoy your dinner." A crash of thunder exploded outside, shaking the windows as sheets of rain began to fall, splattering against the large window at the end of the hall. A few of the other apartment lights came on, following the impressive sound.


"Please tell me you drove her," Callista said as she smoothed her fur back down following the startling crash of noise. 

"Oh yes, definitely, I get orders from all over the mountain. Thank you for your concern, doctor." He smiled, exposing his large front teeth. "Have a good night!" He said as he turned and made his way for the stairwell, hoping to god the good doctor hadn't seen his erection.

"Hey, wait a minute, please." The lion said, causing the mouse to turn and face his customer. Her supermodel-like body was on display as she swiftly moved towards him in nothing but a thin spaghetti strap tank and a pair of underwear. She easily had two feet over the small, fat mouse, making him around eye level with her breasts. 

She bent over and came eye to eye with him as she took his hand in hers and slipped a twenty dollar bill into it. "Your tip, sorry about your grandmother." She said with a wink as she turned back to her apartment, her hips moving in perfect swaying motions opposite of the way her tail had moved.

As Callista sat down at her L-shaped desk, her dinner and a cold beer accompanying her, she thought about the situation she'd found herself in regarding the old mouse and now her grandson. She knew she couldn't and wouldn't tolerate the mouse's behavior, but she needed to pay bills somehow, and dropping patients would be at odds with that goal.

What to do, what to do.


* * *


Tyler waited for the next flash of lightning, then dashed for his car that he had parked across the street. His short, fat legs didn't carry him very far or very fast, so he'd been soaked by the time he got his keys out and unlocked the door to his grandmother's old Lincoln. It only had fifteen thousand miles on it when she gave it to him for his 18th birthday, despite it being an '87 model, and while it wasn't the most eye-catching ride, the fat mouse wasn't about to turn up his nose to it.


He sat in the solitude of the vehicle's cab, rain and now hail pelting the windshield. He removed the cash the lioness had given him as a tip and looked at it. Even though getting tipped was normal for him, this one felt different somehow; The way the lion's hips swayed as she approached him, having even bent over and letting him get a quick glimpse of the beautiful peaks that that tank top had barely concealed.

Was she hitting on me, he thought to himself. His interactions with the opposite sex had been strictly limited to classroom discussions and customers; He doubted he'd even know what flirting was like or if he would be able to tell when somebeast was doing so with him.

"That was flirting, right? She even winked at me there at the end." He said to himself, his voice drowned out by the summer storm that was raging outside.

He smiled as he tucked the money into his wallet.

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