It was a foggy evening in Hometown, and Catti groaned as the workday was nearing an end.
She hated working at QC’s Diner: the uniform was girlish and demeaning, the rush hour was full of customers barking orders she struggled to keep up with, even her nice coworkers couldn’t hide the fact that she was expected to work her ass off in order to have enough money to live. Sure, she was allowed to be on her phone during the downtime, but the occasional snarky comments from customers sure didn’t make her feel good about it.
It was about 10 minutes from closing time: there were no customers left in the diner, and Catti was sitting at a booth and idly chatting with the lion waitress she worked with.
She was an overachiever: always wanting to impress the boss, always ready to do whatever crazy request the customer asked for. The way she talked was delicate and always had a slight hint of diffidence, like she was doubting herself at every word and trying to hide it. It made Catti concerned enough that she’d look up from her phone to check on her every once in a while.
“…and I’m really happy that dance class has been going so well”, the lion girl smiled. “I thought I’d never get the hang of it, but I think I’ve been making progress… I don’t know for sure, though.”
“I’m sure it’s great” Catti replied, her flat affect masking the sincerity of her statement. “I’d love to see it if you have time.”
“O-oh, I don’t think I could do it outside of dance class” the coworker blushed, looking away. “I’m not sure how to explain, but I really only feel comfortable in that space.”
“Oh, I see.” The cat monster rubbed a finger on her phone. “Yeah, that’s fine, I—”
A bell chimed as a middle-aged deer opened the door to the establishment, scowling as she shot a glance at the workers. “Why are you just, sitting around? Don’t you work here?”
Mrs. Holiday. The meanest woman in Hometown, and unfortunately for everyone the main governing officer. No one runs against her because she has “good policies”, but they’d change their mind if they learned about her policies at home. At least, Catti would hope so.
Poor Noelle.
“I swear, what do they pay you to do around here.”
“Hey, uh,” Catti started, “we’re closing in ten minutes.”
“Excuse me? You’re not closed yet,” The mayor hissed, taking a seat at the front of the diner. “I’d like a coffee to start: dark roast, no sugar or cream.”
“I’ve got this, Catti.” The lion girl whispered, getting up from her seat. “You’ve worked hard enough today
She really hadn’t, but she didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Mrs. Holly Jolly Winter.
The air was icy and tense as the girl ran to the coffee maker, silence permeating the atmosphere. The tap, tap, tap of the mayor’s hand and the hissing of the coffee broke through and felt as loud as jackhammers. Catti eyed the lion: she shook anxiously as she started to pour the mayor’s drink. The lion and deer’s eyes locked, piercing eyes glaring into her. She jumped and dropped the brew, glass shattering onto the floor and coffee spilling onto the ground.
“WHAT is wrong with you??” Mrs. Holiday shrieked as the girl started to sob. “It’s COFFEE.”
“I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry” She choked. Catti’s stomach turned at her desperate apologies in the face of a ghoulish woman. “I’ll clean it up, I-I— I’ll get the mop”. She broke down into tears as she ran into the kitchen, muffled sobs breaking through.
Catti was sick of this woman. She had been sick of her for a long time, ever since she was a child and Noelle would dart around mentions of her mom. She had been considering doing something for a while, but it was hard to do something about a woman with so much power, who everyone would notice was gone.
The cat reached into her dress pocket and pulled out something that didn’t look unlike a ray gun from a science fiction series. She aimed at Mrs. Holiday, attention wholly focused on the mess on the floor, and fired.
In an instant the mayor shrunk, her shocked face disappearing as it became too small to discern. She couldn’t have been any bigger than a grain of rice, quiet voice shouting out bewildered noises that no one could hear. She looked down at the stool she sat on, now massive compared to her.
Catti got up from her position and made her way towards the chair she had been sitting in, each step booming to the miserable shrunken woman. She glared down at her classmate’s neglectful mom, hate-fueled anger burning through despite her mostly neutral face.
The lion walked back out with a mop, eyes red and puffy from her tears. “W-where did she go? Is she mad at me?”
“No, she told me she’s sorry for yelling and that she’s gonna go back home to have dinner instead, since we’re closing so soon.” Catti said. “She had a change of heart after seeing you so upset.”
“O-oh, ok.” She meekly replied.
Catti brought her paw down where the deer stood, pinching her between two pawpads. She felt the woman struggle fruitlessly between them, objections barely audible.
“I’m gonna go in the kitchen and make sure we’re all good for closing. You can leave when you want, I’ll clean up the spill if you need me to.”
“G-got it, but I-I have to clean it up… I caused it…”
“If you say so”. Catti said. With one hand, she opened the door to the kitchen. Finally out of earshot of the lion, she raised her paw so that Mrs. Holiday was eye level with her.
“You’re lucky it’s too late in the day to use the fryer” she muttered, feeling the tiny woman between her fingers’ blood run cold. “Or, well, you’re still not very lucky. I don’t feel like prolonging this. I don’t like you.”
She grabbed a glass from the dishes, dropping the deer inside as she looked around the kitchen for something quick and easy to make. She opened the fridge and pulled out some eggs, placing them by the stove. Grabbing a pan, she turned the burner on and waited for it to get hot, coating the bottom with oil. She tapped her foot waiting for it to heat up and and checked her phone for just a moment.
“I’ve never had deer with my eggs before” Catti blankly stated, not looking away from her social media feed and ignoring the increasingly desperate pleas.
When the burner had gotten hot enough, she put her phone down and grabbed Mrs. Holiday. Unceremoniously, she dropped her onto the pan and watched as the tiny figure convulsed. Catti slowly cracked an egg onto the pan, splitting the shell apart and dropping it into the pan. Thick yolk completely enveloped the deer woman, the egg sizzling and hissing from the heat. About five minutes passed before Catti turned the egg over with a spatula. The stark yellow of the yolk contrasted with the dark brown of what used to be Mrs. Holiday, fried into the egg. Puffy egg whites surrounded it, Catti licking her lips from the smell and sight.
Another two minutes passed and the fried egg was cooked to perfection. She wasted no time in grabbing a plate and putting it on, sprinkling some salt onto her meal. Fork and knife in hand, she cut the egg into pieces and lowered her fork onto the portion with her victim.
Her coworker entered the kitchen, holding her mop. “O-oh, you made something?”
“Yeah, I’ll ask the boss to take it off of my pay or something.” She said, raising the egg to her mouth. She bit down and chewed, savoring the savory undertones. She felt a crunch between her teeth, a burst of umami and a hint of iron flavoring her tastebuds.
“I was hungry”.
Catti ate the rest of her meal and took her plate and glass to the sink, washing them up so she could finally clock out of work. She thought about the logistics of Hometown losing its mayor for just a second before concluding that she didn’t actually care. Dishes in the drying rack, she grabbed her phone and left the QC Diner’s kitchen for the day.