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Description
                                                   Nightspot

Ch. 1: Business deal rag

      "Ya know,  dealin' with people in my business ain't what ya expect it to be. You normal people think it's all smoke and mirrors, but in reality, it's as simple  as this. Give them what they ask for. If they say they want shows, givum the best shows they've ever seen, the old razzle dazzle, if they want music givum an orchestra. Please the crowd and they'll keep on comin'." -Micheal Everson, Nightspot hotel and entertainment, Owner

       Two sihoulettes, the one on the right is a male figure in a suit and fedora, two catlike ears portruding from the back of the hat, a tail swishing impaitiently and a set of feathery wings splayed out behind him. The other on the left is of a lizardlike creature, several spines pointing backwards on it's head, a pair of glasses balenced on the end of a short muzzle.
       "Whaddya you mean by that?"
       "What I mean, Mr. Everson, is that the rent is due yet again, and since you haven't been paying up lately, and nothing seems to be attempted in order to remedy this situation, I'm going to have to take drastic measures if you do not pay soon."
       There is a loud bang as a fist hits the desk.  The figure on the right stands up angrily, tail quivering.
      "Look, I've been trying as hard as I POSSIBLY can. I just don't got no money, my business ain't picking up, and I'm stretchin' my budget as much as I can."
      "The fact still stands that the rent has not been paid, and neither have the bills . I'm trying to be lenient  here. I'll give you until the end of the month. If, by the end of that period everything's NOT in order-"
      "You can't toss me out!"
      "And why not! You're MY tenant, therefore, if you do not pay, then why shouldn't I?"
      "Just get out of here! NOW!"
      "Mr. Everson-"
      "OUT!"
      A door slams, the man in the fedora sits at his desk, head in hands, ears drooping, tail and wings slumped down in defeat.
       A knock at the door.
      "Come in, come in."
      A waitress comes in holding a stack of papers.
     "Your mail, Micheal." She puts them on the edge of the desk.
       "Any customers?"
       She shakes her head.
       "None, as usual."
       He slumps over the desk.
       "Fine then."
       "Tough time with the landlord?"
       "As usual, Becca, As usual"
       "It's not going to get easier, you know. There's got to be a way out of this mess."
       " I sure hope so........"
There's the sound of footsteps as she walks away.
       Why me? Micheal thought to himself. Normally, any bar this late at night would have at least one drunk at the table, but night after night, practically no customers. Even expanding for day hours I only got a handful of people. Plus I  can't pay everyone...................it's just a mess.
       He begins to sort through the papers.
       "Junk mail, junk mail, notice, junk- Wait, what?"
       He looked at the sheet of paper in his hands. The minute he saw it he knew it was begging for trouble. He knew should toss it away, yet something told him not to.
      "The Witch Doctor.................."
      Holding the paper, he felt a quiver move through his body as he read the flyer. It was an advertisement for.............magical assistence. An idea flooded through his mind, overpowering every other impulse.
      Should I or should I not? He thought to himself. It would be almost suicidal to do dealings with the witch doctor, and most likely would not end well...........but still..........I'm in no situation to beg.
      He shifted uncomfortably, then rose out of his seat, padding over to the coatrack in the corner. Slipping on his overcoat, he left his office, feeling the bitter cold through his facial fur, whiskers tingling in the night air. Tucking his fedora over his face and pulling in his ears, he walked down the street.

About an hour later.

      I walked along the muddy foot path, my paws ready to fall off they were so numb. My tail swished behind me, batting away at the dead leaves on the ground. One foot after the other, silently mumbling to myself about the cold. I stalked along the small dirt road, hoping  that there were no animals about, as I anxiously made my way to my destination. I have to say, at that moment, I was more scared then I'd ever been in my life. Justifiiable though, being a foot and a half tall was never a good thing in the nighttime, especially in the forest........
      You see, I'm a shade, a small furry creature with an upright humanoid stance, a set of wings and a pair of faintly glowing eyes. Now you may be crying foul at this moment, wondering why your "scientists" haven't discovered us yet. How can we exist if no one has seen us? Easy buster, we just do. In fact most of us live amongest the humans, unknown to but a few trusted people. Over time, my kind took on the traits of humans, their customs and mannerisms, morals and ideals. At least it meant a nice cozy set of clothes.
       Tucking my ears under my fedora, I trudged along, wondering why I chose to wear my usual formal wear instead of something warmer. My business is in an office and restraurant, not in the woods. Nevertheless, it would be completely worth it once the deal was done. All the same, it sent shivers down my spiine to think of what I was doing.
       There are those amongest my kind who are not like the others. They have a bizzare energy pulsing through them, a vibe that gives the impression of power. It's is in this manner that Magic users, so called "Witch doctors" are feared and respected in society. There's just something unnatural about a shade who is able to turn your insides out with a snap of their fingers.
      For some reason, as I walked I recalled a certain nursury rhyme, the type that you hear as a tiny little tyke, but forget and then remember at the weirdest times:

I went on down to the witch doctor,
The one right out of town.
I went away from the witch doctor,
My face is upside down.

I went on down to the witch doctor,
To see what I could see.
I went away from the witch doctor,
I'm as tiny as a flea.

       There was more, but at the moment I couldn't recall what it was. Plodding at a steady pace throughthe frigid night air, I had plenty of time to think about my upcoming ordeal. Should I really do this? Should I really seriously do this? I guess it all or nothing now. I can turn back but...................No, I need to go through with this, for the good of the business. I shivered, looking forward I saw the small clearing where the meetingplace was. Nevertheless, it creeps me out to think about what he might be doing there right this moment.......

Meanwhile, inside the Witch Doctor's potions room.

      "No, no, NO! For the last time Blinky, I will NOT give you a raise in your allowance!"
      "But Daddy-"
      "Don't "But Daddy" me! For the last time, NO! Now go to your room young lady!"    The witch doctor stood there, hands on hips, staring at Blinky. He was a rather intimidating person, always wearing a thin, carved mask over his face that he had enchanted to show his facial expressions. His arms and legs were long and lanky, with short  grey fur. His ears were tattooed in swirled patterns, and off of those he hung various trinkets. That said, his looks were enough to frighten anybody.
     Unfortunately,this wasn't enough to scare Blinky.
     "Pleaaaaaase?" She begged, looking at him imploringly.
     "No." He stood glaring at her.
     "Come ooooooon, please?"
     "For the last time, NOOOOOOO!"
     "Mother would do it for me."
     WD rolled his eyes. "You don't have a mother, Blinky, I MADE you."
     He held his head in his hand. Ugh, would you just give it up? PLEASE. It's giving me a headache. He thought, looking disapprovingly at her.
     "But still, could you just-"
     "Try as you want, the answer will always be no."
     "But-"
     "NO BUTS! AND I HAVE WORK I NEED TO DO!"
     "Hmph, fine!" Flicking a bright purple clump of hair, she slid out of the room, nearly knocking over a small table stacked with magical gems with her tail in the process.
      The witch doctor sighed. Walking over to one of the numerous shelves of potions, he searched through his collection. Spying the shelf he was looking for, he grabbed a bottle, undid the stopper and gulped down the contents. Twitching a little, he grabbed another and only relaxed when it was completely finished. He hobbled over to an overstuffed chair in the corner and slumped down on top of it, hiccuping slightly.
       Reclining, he soon closed his eyes and began to mumble to himself.
       "Ugh, what am I to do? I find the secret to life itself, think "Oh, what a wonderful idea, make little physical versions of various sections of your personaility and have them do work around here, it'll save you soooo much time and effort." Bah! All they do is mooch off of my hard work." Stretching out, he muttered a spell to himself. A second later, a footstool bounds up and settles itself under his feet.
        Oh well, he thought, May as well have my relaxation time while I still can. Potions can wait, spells can be put on hold, but for now, I have a first class ticket to dreamland. Yawning, he curls up on the chair, and slowly began to nod off.

        "Sir, wake up!"
        "Huh, what!?" The witch doctor was snapped awake suddenly, arms flailing wildly in surprise. Standing next to him was a shade with light grey fur, wearing a pair of square glasses and a black t-shirt and white jacket.
       "Oh, it's you, Common Sense. Why'd you wake me, because this better be important." He stared at Common Sense angrily.
       "It is, sir. There's a customer at the clearing."
        He sat up. "A customer?"
"Yes, a customer, who else would it be?"
        The images of several females he managed to enrage on several different occasions came to mind. Well, he thought, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned...
        "Nobody specific..." He said, giving a small shudder at the thought.
        "Anyways, they're there in the clearing, I think you should greet him. He says he wants to do business with you."
        "Oh really?" The witch doctor stood up from his chair.
        "Yes really."
        "Okay then, I'll be going." With a quick spell he started off for the clearing, opening a small portal then phasing through. However, a second later his head popped back in.
"Oh, and Common Sense, clean out the storage later, would you?"
        The Witch doctor disappeared.
        Common sense simply stood there and sighed. No one paid much attention to him in this household.

Description
                                                   Nightspot

Ch. 1: Business deal rag

      "Ya know,  dealin' with people in my business ain't what ya expect it to be. You normal people think it's all smoke and mirrors, but in reality, it's as simple  as this. Give them what they ask for. If they say they want shows, givum the best shows they've ever seen, the old razzle dazzle, if they want music givum an orchestra. Please the crowd and they'll keep on comin'." -Micheal Everson, Nightspot hotel and entertainment, Owner

       Two sihoulettes, the one on the right is a male figure in a suit and fedora, two catlike ears portruding from the back of the hat, a tail swishing impaitiently and a set of feathery wings splayed out behind him. The other on the left is of a lizardlike creature, several spines pointing backwards on it's head, a pair of glasses balenced on the end of a short muzzle.
       "Whaddya you mean by that?"
       "What I mean, Mr. Everson, is that the rent is due yet again, and since you haven't been paying up lately, and nothing seems to be attempted in order to remedy this situation, I'm going to have to take drastic measures if you do not pay soon."
       There is a loud bang as a fist hits the desk.  The figure on the right stands up angrily, tail quivering.
      "Look, I've been trying as hard as I POSSIBLY can. I just don't got no money, my business ain't picking up, and I'm stretchin' my budget as much as I can."
      "The fact still stands that the rent has not been paid, and neither have the bills . I'm trying to be lenient  here. I'll give you until the end of the month. If, by the end of that period everything's NOT in order-"
      "You can't toss me out!"
      "And why not! You're MY tenant, therefore, if you do not pay, then why shouldn't I?"
      "Just get out of here! NOW!"
      "Mr. Everson-"
      "OUT!"
      A door slams, the man in the fedora sits at his desk, head in hands, ears drooping, tail and wings slumped down in defeat.
       A knock at the door.
      "Come in, come in."
      A waitress comes in holding a stack of papers.
     "Your mail, Micheal." She puts them on the edge of the desk.
       "Any customers?"
       She shakes her head.
       "None, as usual."
       He slumps over the desk.
       "Fine then."
       "Tough time with the landlord?"
       "As usual, Becca, As usual"
       "It's not going to get easier, you know. There's got to be a way out of this mess."
       " I sure hope so........"
There's the sound of footsteps as she walks away.
       Why me? Micheal thought to himself. Normally, any bar this late at night would have at least one drunk at the table, but night after night, practically no customers. Even expanding for day hours I only got a handful of people. Plus I  can't pay everyone...................it's just a mess.
       He begins to sort through the papers.
       "Junk mail, junk mail, notice, junk- Wait, what?"
       He looked at the sheet of paper in his hands. The minute he saw it he knew it was begging for trouble. He knew should toss it away, yet something told him not to.
      "The Witch Doctor.................."
      Holding the paper, he felt a quiver move through his body as he read the flyer. It was an advertisement for.............magical assistence. An idea flooded through his mind, overpowering every other impulse.
      Should I or should I not? He thought to himself. It would be almost suicidal to do dealings with the witch doctor, and most likely would not end well...........but still..........I'm in no situation to beg.
      He shifted uncomfortably, then rose out of his seat, padding over to the coatrack in the corner. Slipping on his overcoat, he left his office, feeling the bitter cold through his facial fur, whiskers tingling in the night air. Tucking his fedora over his face and pulling in his ears, he walked down the street.

About an hour later.

      I walked along the muddy foot path, my paws ready to fall off they were so numb. My tail swished behind me, batting away at the dead leaves on the ground. One foot after the other, silently mumbling to myself about the cold. I stalked along the small dirt road, hoping  that there were no animals about, as I anxiously made my way to my destination. I have to say, at that moment, I was more scared then I'd ever been in my life. Justifiiable though, being a foot and a half tall was never a good thing in the nighttime, especially in the forest........
      You see, I'm a shade, a small furry creature with an upright humanoid stance, a set of wings and a pair of faintly glowing eyes. Now you may be crying foul at this moment, wondering why your "scientists" haven't discovered us yet. How can we exist if no one has seen us? Easy buster, we just do. In fact most of us live amongest the humans, unknown to but a few trusted people. Over time, my kind took on the traits of humans, their customs and mannerisms, morals and ideals. At least it meant a nice cozy set of clothes.
       Tucking my ears under my fedora, I trudged along, wondering why I chose to wear my usual formal wear instead of something warmer. My business is in an office and restraurant, not in the woods. Nevertheless, it would be completely worth it once the deal was done. All the same, it sent shivers down my spiine to think of what I was doing.
       There are those amongest my kind who are not like the others. They have a bizzare energy pulsing through them, a vibe that gives the impression of power. It's is in this manner that Magic users, so called "Witch doctors" are feared and respected in society. There's just something unnatural about a shade who is able to turn your insides out with a snap of their fingers.
      For some reason, as I walked I recalled a certain nursury rhyme, the type that you hear as a tiny little tyke, but forget and then remember at the weirdest times:

I went on down to the witch doctor,
The one right out of town.
I went away from the witch doctor,
My face is upside down.

I went on down to the witch doctor,
To see what I could see.
I went away from the witch doctor,
I'm as tiny as a flea.

       There was more, but at the moment I couldn't recall what it was. Plodding at a steady pace throughthe frigid night air, I had plenty of time to think about my upcoming ordeal. Should I really do this? Should I really seriously do this? I guess it all or nothing now. I can turn back but...................No, I need to go through with this, for the good of the business. I shivered, looking forward I saw the small clearing where the meetingplace was. Nevertheless, it creeps me out to think about what he might be doing there right this moment.......

Meanwhile, inside the Witch Doctor's potions room.

      "No, no, NO! For the last time Blinky, I will NOT give you a raise in your allowance!"
      "But Daddy-"
      "Don't "But Daddy" me! For the last time, NO! Now go to your room young lady!"    The witch doctor stood there, hands on hips, staring at Blinky. He was a rather intimidating person, always wearing a thin, carved mask over his face that he had enchanted to show his facial expressions. His arms and legs were long and lanky, with short  grey fur. His ears were tattooed in swirled patterns, and off of those he hung various trinkets. That said, his looks were enough to frighten anybody.
     Unfortunately,this wasn't enough to scare Blinky.
     "Pleaaaaaase?" She begged, looking at him imploringly.
     "No." He stood glaring at her.
     "Come ooooooon, please?"
     "For the last time, NOOOOOOO!"
     "Mother would do it for me."
     WD rolled his eyes. "You don't have a mother, Blinky, I MADE you."
     He held his head in his hand. Ugh, would you just give it up? PLEASE. It's giving me a headache. He thought, looking disapprovingly at her.
     "But still, could you just-"
     "Try as you want, the answer will always be no."
     "But-"
     "NO BUTS! AND I HAVE WORK I NEED TO DO!"
     "Hmph, fine!" Flicking a bright purple clump of hair, she slid out of the room, nearly knocking over a small table stacked with magical gems with her tail in the process.
      The witch doctor sighed. Walking over to one of the numerous shelves of potions, he searched through his collection. Spying the shelf he was looking for, he grabbed a bottle, undid the stopper and gulped down the contents. Twitching a little, he grabbed another and only relaxed when it was completely finished. He hobbled over to an overstuffed chair in the corner and slumped down on top of it, hiccuping slightly.
       Reclining, he soon closed his eyes and began to mumble to himself.
       "Ugh, what am I to do? I find the secret to life itself, think "Oh, what a wonderful idea, make little physical versions of various sections of your personaility and have them do work around here, it'll save you soooo much time and effort." Bah! All they do is mooch off of my hard work." Stretching out, he muttered a spell to himself. A second later, a footstool bounds up and settles itself under his feet.
        Oh well, he thought, May as well have my relaxation time while I still can. Potions can wait, spells can be put on hold, but for now, I have a first class ticket to dreamland. Yawning, he curls up on the chair, and slowly began to nod off.

        "Sir, wake up!"
        "Huh, what!?" The witch doctor was snapped awake suddenly, arms flailing wildly in surprise. Standing next to him was a shade with light grey fur, wearing a pair of square glasses and a black t-shirt and white jacket.
       "Oh, it's you, Common Sense. Why'd you wake me, because this better be important." He stared at Common Sense angrily.
       "It is, sir. There's a customer at the clearing."
        He sat up. "A customer?"
"Yes, a customer, who else would it be?"
        The images of several females he managed to enrage on several different occasions came to mind. Well, he thought, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned...
        "Nobody specific..." He said, giving a small shudder at the thought.
        "Anyways, they're there in the clearing, I think you should greet him. He says he wants to do business with you."
        "Oh really?" The witch doctor stood up from his chair.
        "Yes really."
        "Okay then, I'll be going." With a quick spell he started off for the clearing, opening a small portal then phasing through. However, a second later his head popped back in.
"Oh, and Common Sense, clean out the storage later, would you?"
        The Witch doctor disappeared.
        Common sense simply stood there and sighed. No one paid much attention to him in this household.