This choice: Phyllis, the older, grouchy clerk • Go Back... Just as soon as you meet the hot-pink pelican's gaze, she turns her head to the side, pretending to be very interested in a dull, white package a few feet away from her on the back counter.
"Oh great, another customer..."
"Huh?"
"I said, welcome to the post office," she says stiffly, still not looking back at you. "I'm Phyllis. If you need my assistance with something I'll be glad to help! If 'glad' means 'forced against my will, anyway..."
You overhear what she muttered under her breath, but decide to leave it alone with a small, concerned frown. She obviously seemed cranky, so it's best not to agitate her more. Maybe she's just tired from having to work so late? You did basically arrive at sundown, after all. Being nocturnal had its benefits, but if you were forced to adjust your schedule to work the night shift, it would probably leave a bitter taste in your mouth.
You grab a seat and sit down in front of the moody pelican. Finally, she looks you in the eyes again. "Okay, so what do you need done? Make it snappy..."
"Well, I'm a new resident here. I gotta update my mailing address, or else I won't get anything, from home or otherwise."
"Huh. I knew I hadn't seen your face around here," Phyllis quipped. "If you have your previous address and proof of your rights to the house with you, I can get you up to speed."
Expecting this, you pulled out the document Tom Nook gave you and handed it over to the pink pelican. Now that you think about it, how did that tanuki get you such good housing in such a short notice...was this some kind of scam...?
Your thoughts are disrupted as Phyllis kicks back in her chair and plops her feet onto the counter. You didn't figure they'd look appealing at all, but boy, were you wrong! Instead of flippers, like one would expect, the pelican had three, plump, non-webbed toes. they were...shapely. And large. And...beautiful...
The pelican noticed your staring and grumbled, starting to pull her legs back. "Ugh, if they bother you that much, then fine, I'll put 'em back on the floor. Damnit, thought you were just a pushover..."
No! You need to see more of those beauties! "W-wait! I didn't mean to stare. I just thought that...you chose a really nice nail color, t-that's all," you gulp, hoping that passed as an excuse to her.
For the first time since you met her, you saw an emotion other than disdain on Phyllis's face! She seemed pretty surprised, not only that you stopped her, but that you noticed the paint on her talons as well. A small smile spread across her bill, and she flexed her toes as she admired her own handiwork. "Hmph. Well, I did put some work into polishing them this afternoon...thanks for the compliment, bucko. You know, maybe I could use a sweet-talker in my life..."
You could swear you saw Phyllis's cheeks flush the slightest bit redder. She tried to hide it, but you could tell that the disgruntled clerk was more appreciative of your comment than she let on. A bit of kind praise must be hard to get for her. You felt a pang of sympathy for her; she might be a bit rude, but that's no reason to not speak about her positive qualities.
Still waiting for the process to finish up, your eyes wander back to the cute, pink-tipped talons in front of you. They might've been carefully painted, but you could tell from a subtle, yet detectable scent that Phyllis had been on her feet for a while beforehand. You clench your legs together; you're getting hot and bothered, and it's all from her soles; her smooth, plush, kissable soles...
"What now?" the pelican asked, more worry than irritation in her voice now, "I know I've been working for a while, but are they really that noticeable?"
"W-what do you mean," you stutter.
Phyllis eyed the room nervously, getting a bit flustered, "D-do I have to spell it out for you?! I'm asking if they, er, smell..."
"N-no, not at all!"
She sighs.
"I was, uh, actually wondering if youuuuu..."
"Yeah? S-spit it out, already!"
You stop, then steel yourself. This would probably already be considered crossing boundaries if you and the clerk were friends; it's even worse that you've never met each other before! Regardless, your mouth is quicker than your gut, and you finish the question:
"Do you want a foot massage?"
Now that made Phyllis blush. After a short pause, she gave you an answer:   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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