Mediocrity

Dahj pressed his back firm against the alley wall, breathing like an asthmatic smoker running up a flight of stairs. Chest heaving in a broken rhythm, he chanced a look from behind the dumpster. All at once, a triumphant smirk was pulled from his lips. 

At last, the beast had stopped.

Though the alley was painted black with shadows, the moon’s luminous presence provided enough light to spot the dark silhouette crouching in the alley. A furry snout snuffled the ground, yellow, feral eyes entirely devoid of human emotion searching hungrily, ravenously. Sharp fangs of ivory flashed dangerously as thick globs of viscous saliva cascaded over blacked gums and thin lips.

Dahj leaned back, putting his back to the wall once more. The werewolf was stationary, for now, and appeared to be unaware of his presence. If there was ever a moment to act, it couldn’t get any more perfect then it was now. His eyes darted across from his position, to his partner. She too was pressed against the wall, on the opposite side of the alley’s entry point.

The woman gave him the nod, letting him know that she was ready to move out on his mark. Holding up five fingers, Dahj began the countdown:

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One—

“—She's my cherry pie,
Cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise.
Tastes so good, make a grown man cry,
Sweet cherry—”

Tajaki exhumed her cell phone from the depths of her pocket, flipping it open and answering with a suave, “Hello?”

Frozen in mid-step, Dahj blinked several times at the lycanthrope staring back at him. The wolf-creature gave him a sharp bark, as if to say, “Later, bitch!” and scrambled away with the sound of clicking nails scraping along the pavement.

“Taji!” Dahj exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the universal ‘what the fuck?!’ gesture. “The hell?! Why would you have your cell turned on?! We’re working here!”

“Hey dere, sweetness,” said Taja’ki, completely ignoring Dahj’s angry outburst.

“You are seriously not doing this right now. I don’t know if I’m more pissed off at the fact you left your phone on or the fact that you answered.”

Tajaki cut a look at Dahj. “Nah, Taji ain’t doin’ no’tin important. ‘ow about joo?”

“… You are so getting a passive aggressive sticky note on the fridge when we get back…”

“Jus’ got out da’ showa’?” Taji continued with a grin that looked as if it belonged on a raunchy, old man. “’ow about joo invite Taji ova' so she c'in get joo all dirty an’ lick joo clean aga—”

The sound of Dahj gagging on his spleen interrupted the intimate conversation before it’s conclusion.

“Taji’ll have tah call joo back. Dis idiot here can’t do not’in wit'out Taji, ja know… Alrigh’... Bye, beautiful.”

Folding the phone shut, she proceeded to glare at Dahj, a testy scowl fixed onto her face.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” apologized Dahj, mockingly, “Is the Skank Hotline officially closed now?”

Right before Tajaki could reach over and surgically implant her fist through his skull, a moon-sick howl caused both to recall the reason they were standing in a dark alley in the middle of the night without the intentions of purchasing drugs or a hooker.

“Anyway, back to business. Now that he's onto us, we can forget trying to sneak up on him. Somehow, we need to get him to come to us.”

Dahj thumbed his chin in contemplation.

“Dis would be so much easier if joo jus’ let Taji go ova’ dere an’ get him herself,” Taji pointed out, folding her arms across her chest.

Her partner was inclined to agree. “True, but the client specifically asked that the werewolf be brought back alive, not in a doggy bag.”

“Taji c’in be gentle. Like she is wit’ da ladies. Although, dat may be somet’in joo are unfamiliar wit’.”

Dahj snorted obnoxiously. “Again, we’re trying to capture the beast, not make some sort of freaky porno. Let me do the thinking. You just stand there and try not to look pretty. Last time you tried, the hair on my balls turned white with terror—”

He managed to just finish his insult before a foreseeable blow to the chest. Luckily, a small box took some of the impact of Tajaki’s manly hamfist.

“What’s this?” he grunted, rubbing at his tingling sternum.

The woman answered with a half-smile, crossing her arms over her chest once more.

“Dog treats.”

One of Dahj’s eyebrows quirked in befuddlement.

“Why the hell did you have dog treats in your purse? You reward yourself for turning tricks now?”

“No, smartass. Dere’s dis girl dat Taji’ sees sometimes an’ she likes tah role-play—”

“Nevermind!” interrupted Dahj, face paling. “See, that was one of those moments where a simple ‘fuck you, Dahj’ would have sufficed.”

His gaze descended to the box in his hand.

“Regardless, I don’t think that this is going to help us. Aren’t werewolves carnivorous?”

Tajaki shrugged.

“Dey be meat flavored treats. Close enough.”

Dahj’s repressed a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “No, not close enough. That’s like saying a pre-op transvestite is ‘close enough’. It’s just not.”

At the sound of interested snuffling nearby, Dahj made a face, not relishing the taste of his own words as he was forced to eat them.

“God I hate it when you’re right,” he mumbled, opening the box and tossing a bone-shaped treat further down the alley toward the loud sniffing.

“Donna’ be such a baby, Dahj. Jus’ ‘cause joo were wrong, don’ make joo any less of a man. Whinin’ like a bitch ‘cause I was right does,” whispered Taji, smugly.

Dahj kept a rather vulgar quip to himself as the wolfish creature came into view, pouncing on the discarded biscuit and devouring it with a ravenous hunger.

“Okay, here’s the plan: I lure it over with the treats and you grab it.” He stole a glance at Tajaki. “Got it?”

“Ja, ja, Taji got it.”

Dahj’s expression seemed skeptical, but he shook the box anyway, dumping a few treats onto the ground in front of him.

“Here wolfie, wolfie, wolfie,” he coaxed with a couple of shrill whistles in between. “Come get some yummy Skanky Snacks.”

The lycan set his eyes on Dahj, narrowing in on the food at his feet. With an awkward, lumbering gait, the werewolf charged, heading straight for Dahj, tongue lolling eagerly out the corner of its mouth.

“Holy fuck! Grab it, grab it!” shouted Dahj, taking a few nervous steps back and throwing a look at his motionless companion. 

Shaking her head at his cowardice, Taji took three steps forward, cracking her knuckles and saying, “Alrigh’, alrigh’. Don’ piss yah’self.”

As the sable furred creature came streaking by, Tajaki’s hand shot out and grasped it by the nape of its neck. Lifting it into the air, she brought it up to face level, staring it dead in the eye. A tiny, pink tongue darted out and licked the bridge of her nose.

“What be wrong wit’ joo, Dahj? Werewolf pups are cute.”

Dahj eyed both Tajaki and the werepup like they were hell spawn from the Devil’s own seed.

“I don’t like animals, especially dogs,” he explained, lips turning up into a disgusted frown. “Just keep it away from me and I won’t have to leave it on the doorstep of a Chinese restaurant.”

Tajaki cuddled the puppy closer, appeasing it by offering it a dog treat. “Joo know,” she said as the pair began to exit the alley and head back home. “Fa’ someone who don’ like dogs, joo sure do act like a bitch more often den not.”

{~*~}{~*~}{~*~}

Dahj pushed open the door to his shop, Tajaki trailing behind him. A woman sitting on a threadbare couch stood up quickly at their arrival, a dried trail of tears staining her cheeks.

“We safely retrieved your do—son,” Dahj announced, moving aside for Taji to pass the werepup over to woman.

Snatching her ‘son’ from Tajaki’s grasp, she squeezed him tight to her chest, exclaiming, “Thank you! Thank you so much! I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t caught him.”

After a few more overly affectionate embraces, the woman dug into her pocket book and passed Dahj a check with a nod of gratitude.

“That should more than compensate for all you’ve done.”

Dahj nodded back. “Your welcome. Thanks for your business.”

With a smile, the woman planted a wet kiss onto her son’s furry head. “Okay, it’s been a long night. Time to go home.”

“Wait! One second…”

Dahj reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, he revealed a heavily creased picture, holding it in front of the woman.

“Have you seen this woman, by chance?” he inquired, studying the woman’s face intently.

The woman scanned the picture for a brief moment, but shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Thanks anyway.”

“Say thank you to the nice human,” the woman said suddenly, noting the man’s disappointed expression.

She shoved her son at Dahj, urging the slobbering animal to “kiss” him. Dahj held his hands out to decline, fighting the urge to punt the little fuzzball out the door, when he got a little too close and was promptly bit on the finger by the tiny lycanthrope.

Dahj’s whole face twitched as the woman hurried out the store, scolding her son as she explained that it was ‘impolite to bite strangers’. His face twitched even more when his arms, legs, chest, back and chin began to sprout course, unruly hair.

“Too bad gettin’ bit by a werepup only makes joo hairy fah a bit an’ not turn intah a full werewolf, ja?” jested Tajaki, unable to hold back a devilish grin at Dahj’s caveman appearance.

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not a were-bitch where I turn into a full bitch one week out of the month,” Dahj snapped, bitterly tugging at his Rip Van Winkle beard.

Looking at Dahj’s expression, Tajaki moved closer to him and draped an arm over his shoulders. An asphyxiating, soul-heavy, silence befell the pair as they stared at the picture cradled in Dahj’s hairy palms.

“Someone has got tah have seen her, Dahj,” said Taji, uncharacteristically solemn. “We jus’ ain’t asked da’ right person yet.”

Dahj carefully folded the picture and slipped it back into his pocket.

“Yeah.”

He turned to her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Sometimes, you being right isn’t so bad.” 

Taji grinned back, probably a little bit prematurely.

“Because most times when you’re right, it just feels like someone’s gargling my balls with hydrochloric acid.”

He maneuvered out of Tajaki’s grasp to avoid a well placed punch to the gut.

“I’m gonna’ go lock myself in the bathroom with a pair of clippers for the next three hours. Though, alternatively, I could set an appointment to have my ass trimmed, permed and styled--”

The phone rang suddenly, interrupting Dahj’s ridiculous train of thought. He leaned across the counter and picked it up on the third ring, answering with his typical greeting.

“This is At Your Service, where we specialize in nothing but offer experienced mediocrity at a reasonable price. Jack of all trades, master of none, Dahj speaking. How may I help you?”