Jul 11, 2016
@sofantasnick
The cafe was hopping with the inexplicably irritating mid-twenties hipster crowd (because of course they’d be here with her in hell), and the last three customers had taken five minutes each to specially explain how their drinks should be made, and then sniffed about their superior species. Frankly, the brunette barista was ready to pull one of the six weapons hidden around her workstation on the next person to piss her off.
“And what exactly are you, a weremonkey?” Allison turned on the next customer with an exasperated expression.