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And On That Note
A Spontoon Island story
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
(Various characters are copyright their respective owners.)
Thumbnail art by
thetiedtigress
Twenty.
“Hi, Michelle,” B’onss said. “You look great.”
The spotted skunk gave him a grin. Michelle was wearing the traditional little black dress and was wearing it very well, in B’onss’ biased opinion. “You’ve said that before.”
“Do you mind me sayin’ it?”
Michelle chuckled. “Not at all. Shall we go in?” B’onss remembered to offer his arm to her, and the maitre’d escorted them to a table.
The placement of the tables had caused the spotted skunk to have a talk with the stage manager, who had brought the restaurant manager in on the plan. The tables were situated so that neither the tod nor the vixen could see each other, while the spotted skunk had an unobstructed view of the entrance to the restaurant.
B’onss seated the skunk and sat across from her as the waiter approached. “You got any Nootnops Red?” the fox asked.
The waiter gave him a look capable of turning fresh milk into yogurt. “Yes. Sir.”
Michelle smiled up at him. “For two.”
The waiter, aware of what was going on but clearly not liking it, nodded and walked off as the pair studied their menus.
B’onss was furiously doing sums in his head when Michelle reached across the table and touched his paw. “Huh?” he asked, brush and ears flicking as he startled.
“Could you excuse me for a moment?” the spotted skunk asked. “I need to powder my nose.”
“Huh? Oh! Yeah, sure, okeh,” and he stood as Michelle got up, sitting back down as she walked away.
The waiter arrived with their drinks.
***
Two of the dancers spotted the skunk slipping through the employee’s entrance near the restrooms and one said in a dark tone, “And so, it begins.”
“Oh hush up, Veronica,” the other one said.
***
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” and Kara Karoksdottir turned and smiled at Milo. She was wearing a knee-length black dress, while he was wearing a shirt, slacks, and a suit jacket with no tie.
“No, I just got here,” the vixen said, taking his proffered arm. “You look quite nice.”
“So do you,” the spotted skunk said as the maitre’d escorted them to their table. The man gave Milo a touch of a sneer and an eyeroll before moving off.
The waiter approached. “Good evening, Madame, Sir. Shall I bring the wine list?”
Milo cocked an eye at Kara, and the vixen said, “A glass of the house white, please.”
The waiter nodded and looked at Milo. “I’ll have that as well, thank you.”
“Of course,” and the waiter left.
“Do you like wine?” Kara asked.
Milo made a waggling motion with a paw. “It’s not bad. There’s a few places in the Republic who make wine, but we usually import it from California.”
The waiter arrived with their drinks, and bruschetta was ordered as an appetizer. Milo glanced at his watch as Kara looked around.
Her ears swiveled as he moved to stand up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment?”
“Ah.” She nodded sagely and smiled at his tailfur as he headed for the restrooms.
***
The two dancers watched as Milo hurried to change his clothes, and one said, "I don't see this ending well."
The first dancer, Veronica, said, "Me neither, Betty. That's why I'm watching."
"Yeah, it's like a slow-motion train wreck, am I right?"
"Yeah."
Betty glanced at Veronica. "Care to bet on when it all goes horribly wrong?"
"Um, five shells?"
Betty extended a paw, and Veronica took it. "You're on."
***
“I was startin’ ta wonder where you were at,” B’onss said as Michelle returned to her seat. His drink was a third empty, while hers was untouched. “What kept ya?”
The spotted skunk gave a short laugh. “Just nervous, I guess.”
“You, nervous? Aw, pull th’ other one, Michelle. You get up on stage and sing every night. It’s more than I can do.”
Michelle took a sip of her drink, paused, and drank a little more. “My, that is really tasty. And you shouldn’t sell yourself short, B’onss.”
“No?”
“No. You’re good-looking, you have manners. You have good qualities.”
The young fox looked a little thoughtful. “Guess I never thought about it. ‘Course, I know I got a head for figures, an’ a mechanical bent.”
“Really,” Michelle said. “Why don’t you tell me about that.”
B’onss grinned and sat back. “Well, me an’ m’brudder, that’s K’nutt, we started a trolley line once . . . “
***
Kara looked up as Milo got back into his seat. “You were gone a while,” she said coolly.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” the spotted skunk said, looking contrite. “Someone stopped me and bent my ear.”
“Oh? About work?”
“Yeah.” He picked up his wineglass and took a sip. “You ordered already?”
“I was hungry,” the vixen said. “I hope you like bruschetta.”
“Looks like tomatoes and cheese on toast.” He reached and picked one up, took a bite, and smiled as he chewed. “Very tasty.”
Kara smiled. “Thanks. It’s a great starter.”
***
“So, how we doing?” Veronica asked, giving Betty a bottle of Nootnops Red as she sat down beside her. “Either of them twigged to him yet?”
“Nah,” Betty replied. “He almost gave the game away when he shows up at the vixen’s table still wearing earrings.”
“Dang. Well, he can’t keep it up forever.”
***
Milo smiled across the table at Kara despite the pain in his leg. One of the stud earrings was poking him through the pocket, and was in danger of puncturing his skin. Still, he and the vixen were midway through steaks, with sauteed vegetables and individual potato souffles.
Over at the other table, dessert was likely waiting for him.
The conversation had been good as well, if more than a little disjointed, and he was grateful that the night was almost over.
He was running out of excuses.
The spotted skunk almost jumped out of his chair as a paw came down hard on his shoulder, and his ears flicked.
“You!”
Startled, Kara Karoksdottir sat back as an oddly-patterned feline femme asked, “Where the hell were you? I waited at the pier for an hour!”
As if to agree with her, a feral toy poodle barked.
Milo started to babble something, but Kara asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m his girlfriend,” the cat growled.
Kara’s jaw dropped.
“Girlfriend!?”
***
B’onss Karoksson was very happy. His first actual date, with a really pretty gal. A knockout, actually, with the best-looking tailfur he’d ever seen. She seemed to like him, too –
A feral dog barked.
“Girlfriend!?”
His ears perked at the shout, and he frowned. That voice . . .
That voice was familiar.
He turned, ears swiveling as other diners looked in one direction, at one table, where a vixen was half-standing up from her seat, arguing with a cat dame.
“Kara?”
He got up to see what was going on with his older sister.
***
Kara was out of her chair and had both her paws flat on the table as she bared her teeth at the slightly taller feline. “What the HELL do you mean? Who are you?”
“My name’s Winnie Needham,” the cat growled. Her left paw stayed on Milo’s shoulder, effectively pinning him in his seat. “I’m this guy’s girlfriend. He was supposed to meet me at the dock over two hours ago, and I find him here making time with you.” She gave Milo a little shake to punctuate her words.
“Now, Winnie – “ Milo started to say.
“Don’t ‘Now, Winnie’ me, you musky miscreant.”
“Hey, Kara, what’s up?” Winnie and Kara turned to face B’onss as he came up to the table. “Whatcha yellin’ about? Yer date givin . . . ya . . . problems?” His voice faltered as he looked at the spotted skunk.
He saw the headfur.
He saw the tailfur.
“Michelle?” he whispered.
Kara and Winnie both shifted their gaze to glare at Milo, who seemed to sink into his seat.
B’onss Karoksson saw red.
The tod scooped up a paw full of potato souffle and hurled it in Milo’s face.
The two femmes looked shocked as the spotted skunk wiped the food away. Milo frowned and retaliated, throwing his own pawful of potato at B’onss, where it impacted on his new suit.
Kara reached out and smacked Milo across the face. “Hey!” she said. “That’s my brother!”
Winnie slapped Kara. “That’s my boyfriend!”
B’onss saw red again, and he slapped Winnie, striking her right ear. “That’s my sister!”
There was a tiny pause, and the fight was on.
The maitre’d slipped out of the restaurant as a three-way slap fight developed and made his way to the front desk. “Better call the cops,” he said to the clerk. “Tell ‘em to make it snappy.”
“Gotcha.” The maitre’d went back to the door in time to see the three combatants grab the spotted skunk and start hitting him before going back to hitting each other.
To his credit and as a matter of record, the skunk had been trying to escape, although the toy poodle had its teeth firmly gripping his tailfur.
***
Reggie Buckhorn paused in reading through more work-related papers, and his ears perked and swiveled at the sound of sirens coming from the open window. Across the room, Willow was getting Tommy ready for bed. Her ears perked as well as the sound of sirens began to be heard. “I say, Willow,” the whitetail buck said.
“What’s that, Reggie?” his doe asked.
“Have you ever felt that something was happening, and you should be part of it?”
Willow gave him an arch look as she finished nuzzling their son. “Whatever it is, Reggie, you’re not getting involved.”
“Oh perish the thought, my dear,” Reggie said. Willow brought Tommy over to him and he gently nuzzled the fawn. “Goodnight , little Tommy-buck,” he said softly.
The sirens died away, apparently ending up nearby, where the Grand Hotel Spontoon was located.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
A Spontoon Island story
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
(Various characters are copyright their respective owners.)
Thumbnail art by
thetiedtigressTwenty.
“Hi, Michelle,” B’onss said. “You look great.”
The spotted skunk gave him a grin. Michelle was wearing the traditional little black dress and was wearing it very well, in B’onss’ biased opinion. “You’ve said that before.”
“Do you mind me sayin’ it?”
Michelle chuckled. “Not at all. Shall we go in?” B’onss remembered to offer his arm to her, and the maitre’d escorted them to a table.
The placement of the tables had caused the spotted skunk to have a talk with the stage manager, who had brought the restaurant manager in on the plan. The tables were situated so that neither the tod nor the vixen could see each other, while the spotted skunk had an unobstructed view of the entrance to the restaurant.
B’onss seated the skunk and sat across from her as the waiter approached. “You got any Nootnops Red?” the fox asked.
The waiter gave him a look capable of turning fresh milk into yogurt. “Yes. Sir.”
Michelle smiled up at him. “For two.”
The waiter, aware of what was going on but clearly not liking it, nodded and walked off as the pair studied their menus.
B’onss was furiously doing sums in his head when Michelle reached across the table and touched his paw. “Huh?” he asked, brush and ears flicking as he startled.
“Could you excuse me for a moment?” the spotted skunk asked. “I need to powder my nose.”
“Huh? Oh! Yeah, sure, okeh,” and he stood as Michelle got up, sitting back down as she walked away.
The waiter arrived with their drinks.
***
Two of the dancers spotted the skunk slipping through the employee’s entrance near the restrooms and one said in a dark tone, “And so, it begins.”
“Oh hush up, Veronica,” the other one said.
***
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” and Kara Karoksdottir turned and smiled at Milo. She was wearing a knee-length black dress, while he was wearing a shirt, slacks, and a suit jacket with no tie.
“No, I just got here,” the vixen said, taking his proffered arm. “You look quite nice.”
“So do you,” the spotted skunk said as the maitre’d escorted them to their table. The man gave Milo a touch of a sneer and an eyeroll before moving off.
The waiter approached. “Good evening, Madame, Sir. Shall I bring the wine list?”
Milo cocked an eye at Kara, and the vixen said, “A glass of the house white, please.”
The waiter nodded and looked at Milo. “I’ll have that as well, thank you.”
“Of course,” and the waiter left.
“Do you like wine?” Kara asked.
Milo made a waggling motion with a paw. “It’s not bad. There’s a few places in the Republic who make wine, but we usually import it from California.”
The waiter arrived with their drinks, and bruschetta was ordered as an appetizer. Milo glanced at his watch as Kara looked around.
Her ears swiveled as he moved to stand up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment?”
“Ah.” She nodded sagely and smiled at his tailfur as he headed for the restrooms.
***
The two dancers watched as Milo hurried to change his clothes, and one said, "I don't see this ending well."
The first dancer, Veronica, said, "Me neither, Betty. That's why I'm watching."
"Yeah, it's like a slow-motion train wreck, am I right?"
"Yeah."
Betty glanced at Veronica. "Care to bet on when it all goes horribly wrong?"
"Um, five shells?"
Betty extended a paw, and Veronica took it. "You're on."
***
“I was startin’ ta wonder where you were at,” B’onss said as Michelle returned to her seat. His drink was a third empty, while hers was untouched. “What kept ya?”
The spotted skunk gave a short laugh. “Just nervous, I guess.”
“You, nervous? Aw, pull th’ other one, Michelle. You get up on stage and sing every night. It’s more than I can do.”
Michelle took a sip of her drink, paused, and drank a little more. “My, that is really tasty. And you shouldn’t sell yourself short, B’onss.”
“No?”
“No. You’re good-looking, you have manners. You have good qualities.”
The young fox looked a little thoughtful. “Guess I never thought about it. ‘Course, I know I got a head for figures, an’ a mechanical bent.”
“Really,” Michelle said. “Why don’t you tell me about that.”
B’onss grinned and sat back. “Well, me an’ m’brudder, that’s K’nutt, we started a trolley line once . . . “
***
Kara looked up as Milo got back into his seat. “You were gone a while,” she said coolly.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” the spotted skunk said, looking contrite. “Someone stopped me and bent my ear.”
“Oh? About work?”
“Yeah.” He picked up his wineglass and took a sip. “You ordered already?”
“I was hungry,” the vixen said. “I hope you like bruschetta.”
“Looks like tomatoes and cheese on toast.” He reached and picked one up, took a bite, and smiled as he chewed. “Very tasty.”
Kara smiled. “Thanks. It’s a great starter.”
***
“So, how we doing?” Veronica asked, giving Betty a bottle of Nootnops Red as she sat down beside her. “Either of them twigged to him yet?”
“Nah,” Betty replied. “He almost gave the game away when he shows up at the vixen’s table still wearing earrings.”
“Dang. Well, he can’t keep it up forever.”
***
Milo smiled across the table at Kara despite the pain in his leg. One of the stud earrings was poking him through the pocket, and was in danger of puncturing his skin. Still, he and the vixen were midway through steaks, with sauteed vegetables and individual potato souffles.
Over at the other table, dessert was likely waiting for him.
The conversation had been good as well, if more than a little disjointed, and he was grateful that the night was almost over.
He was running out of excuses.
The spotted skunk almost jumped out of his chair as a paw came down hard on his shoulder, and his ears flicked.
“You!”
Startled, Kara Karoksdottir sat back as an oddly-patterned feline femme asked, “Where the hell were you? I waited at the pier for an hour!”
As if to agree with her, a feral toy poodle barked.
Milo started to babble something, but Kara asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m his girlfriend,” the cat growled.
Kara’s jaw dropped.
“Girlfriend!?”
***
B’onss Karoksson was very happy. His first actual date, with a really pretty gal. A knockout, actually, with the best-looking tailfur he’d ever seen. She seemed to like him, too –
A feral dog barked.
“Girlfriend!?”
His ears perked at the shout, and he frowned. That voice . . .
That voice was familiar.
He turned, ears swiveling as other diners looked in one direction, at one table, where a vixen was half-standing up from her seat, arguing with a cat dame.
“Kara?”
He got up to see what was going on with his older sister.
***
Kara was out of her chair and had both her paws flat on the table as she bared her teeth at the slightly taller feline. “What the HELL do you mean? Who are you?”
“My name’s Winnie Needham,” the cat growled. Her left paw stayed on Milo’s shoulder, effectively pinning him in his seat. “I’m this guy’s girlfriend. He was supposed to meet me at the dock over two hours ago, and I find him here making time with you.” She gave Milo a little shake to punctuate her words.
“Now, Winnie – “ Milo started to say.
“Don’t ‘Now, Winnie’ me, you musky miscreant.”
“Hey, Kara, what’s up?” Winnie and Kara turned to face B’onss as he came up to the table. “Whatcha yellin’ about? Yer date givin . . . ya . . . problems?” His voice faltered as he looked at the spotted skunk.
He saw the headfur.
He saw the tailfur.
“Michelle?” he whispered.
Kara and Winnie both shifted their gaze to glare at Milo, who seemed to sink into his seat.
B’onss Karoksson saw red.
The tod scooped up a paw full of potato souffle and hurled it in Milo’s face.
The two femmes looked shocked as the spotted skunk wiped the food away. Milo frowned and retaliated, throwing his own pawful of potato at B’onss, where it impacted on his new suit.
Kara reached out and smacked Milo across the face. “Hey!” she said. “That’s my brother!”
Winnie slapped Kara. “That’s my boyfriend!”
B’onss saw red again, and he slapped Winnie, striking her right ear. “That’s my sister!”
There was a tiny pause, and the fight was on.
The maitre’d slipped out of the restaurant as a three-way slap fight developed and made his way to the front desk. “Better call the cops,” he said to the clerk. “Tell ‘em to make it snappy.”
“Gotcha.” The maitre’d went back to the door in time to see the three combatants grab the spotted skunk and start hitting him before going back to hitting each other.
To his credit and as a matter of record, the skunk had been trying to escape, although the toy poodle had its teeth firmly gripping his tailfur.
***
Reggie Buckhorn paused in reading through more work-related papers, and his ears perked and swiveled at the sound of sirens coming from the open window. Across the room, Willow was getting Tommy ready for bed. Her ears perked as well as the sound of sirens began to be heard. “I say, Willow,” the whitetail buck said.
“What’s that, Reggie?” his doe asked.
“Have you ever felt that something was happening, and you should be part of it?”
Willow gave him an arch look as she finished nuzzling their son. “Whatever it is, Reggie, you’re not getting involved.”
“Oh perish the thought, my dear,” Reggie said. Willow brought Tommy over to him and he gently nuzzled the fawn. “Goodnight , little Tommy-buck,” he said softly.
The sirens died away, apparently ending up nearby, where the Grand Hotel Spontoon was located.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Red Fox
Size 93 x 120px
File Size 58.7 kB
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