Anon, an autistic NEET living with his parents, inherits his uncle's bar. It becomes the first integrated Anthro-human bar in the state. But some people don't like the idea of sharing liquor with furry people.
Chapter 1: The bar
Your father was infantry in the Army. Your mother was a lawyer who never lost in court. The expectations for you were high from the start. Dad wanted you to go Army, mom wanted you to go to college. So what did you choose?

You chose neither. You're a 21-year-old NEET autist who posts on a Laotian pottery club forum. The only thing you've accomplished in life was finishing high school, being decent at Vidya, and being able to follow a cookbook. AKA absolutely nothing of worth. Your parents are getting sick of your shit and are threatening to kick you out if you don't find something productive to do with your life.

Fuck.


After almost 3 days of searching around for jobs, you found fuck all. They were all either too far away, required massive amounts of education, or were full already. You tried telling your folks and they didn't believe you.

"Anon, you haven't left that basement in almost 2 weeks." Your mother exclaimed, annoyed. "I highly doubt you looked for a job while sitting down there playing computer games."

"But mom, I looked online for three days straight!" You protested. "All the jobs were too far away for me to walk to. The ones that don't require college degrees that wouldn't be worth the time OR the money. All the waiting jobs and low wage jobs are booked by summer kids! I'm dead in the water!"

It was your dad's turn to speak. "Son, you could always join the Army like your old man." He points to himself and smiles warmly at you. "It's not just shooting people ya know. There are lots of normal jobs in the Army too."

"Dad, you and I both know I wouldn't make it through basic training. I'd get a dishonorable discharge and be shunned for the rest of my life."

He knew you were right. You wouldn't last a week in boot camp. They'd kick you out so fast that your ears would still be ringing from the first day of yelling.

They both sigh and you do the same. "I'm sorry guys, I really tried. I guess I'm just gonna be a failure foreve-" You're interrupted by a phone call. Your father answers it and starts speaking.

"Hello? Yes. Why? Okay, I'll tell him. Anon, it's for you."

Who the fuck would want to call you?

You speak first. "H-hel-"
"ANON! How are ya kiddo?" Bellows the voice over the phone. It was your uncle.
"I-I'm fine. You?"
"GOOD! I heard you're looking for a job! Well, I've been searching for someone to hand my business down to! Seeing as how you're the youngest in the family, I'm defaulting to you!" He sounds very excited about this whole thing. You would be too if it weren't for one thing. You didn't know how to run a bar.
"Uncle, I don't know how to run a bar or a business for that matter! How would I even begi-"
He cuts you off again "GREAT! I've already signed you to the deed! Congratulations on the new bar!"
"W-wha-"
"HAVE A NICE DAY ANON!"
"Y-you too."
The phone went dead and you set it back on the charger with a *CLICK*.
"Mom, Dad, I think I just inherited a bar."
Both their eyes light up, though showing different emotions.
Your mother speaks first. "ABSOLUTELY NOT ANON! Bars are some of the most unsanitary, unsavory, and crime-ridden places in the country! Not to mention you just turned 21 a few weeks ago! You are NOT taking that bar!"
You look down at the checkered floor tiles, not able to look at her.
"Mom, I kind of already own it now. Uncle gave it to me over the phone before I could even say anything."
Your mother looks absolutely stupefied. Before she could interject, your father steps in.
"That's my boy! Already owning a business of his own before he hits 30! I knew you could do it, son!"
They were both yelling so loudly. You felt like you were gonna pass out from the absurdity of the situation.
"I'm gonna go and lay down. I have a big day tomorrow!"
You put on the best smile you possibly could before heading back down to the basement. The stairs creaked as you descended them. Once you reach the bottom, you round the corner to your room. It was very clean for you being a NEET, your 5 figurines lined up neatly on a shelf. The posters on your wall are of different anime's you used to watch. It got kind of boring after a while, so you just played vidya instead. But that's beside the point. You had some work to do

You spent almost 8 hours just looking up how taxes and businesses work, as well as how to properly mix drinks. This isn't enough. You leaned back in your chair and stretched yourself out. The chair squeaked and groaned as you pushed against it with your back. You pull yourself forwards and push yourself out from your desk, yawning as you did.
You may be autistic, but you weren't stupid. You needed sleep if you were going to get anything done tomorrow. You set the alarm on your nightstand to 8:30 AM, so you could pick out some clothes and get acquainted with the staff.

Your staff. Fuck, you forgot being a boss meant interacting with people. People suck more than a Taiwanese hooker on Saturday ni-.

	You jerk awake to the loud buzzing of your alarm clock. You look over quickly and see the time is 8:32. Rubbing your eyes, you exit the bed and hit the sleep button, turning the alarm off in the process. Your dad calls down to you.
"Anon! Wear your polo shirt and khakis! It'll make you look more professional!"
"Got it, dad!"
You do as you're told, grabbing the previously mentioned clothes and slipping them on. You slip on some dress shoes and rush to your bathroom. You look in the mirror and look yourself over. You were about 6 feet tall, average build. Not fat like people expect you to be when you tell them what you do all day, but not the peak of fitness either. Just average. After making sure you looked presentable, you rushed up the stairs, grabbing the keys to your car as you went.

Your dad was waiting for you at the top of the stairs with a proud look on his face. You hadn't seen a look like that on him since you graduated high school. It made you less nervous than you were previously.
"Son, I want you to know how proud I am of you. Taking that job from your uncle and all. Take this."
He handed you a box that was wrapped in plastic ties.
"Don't open it until you get inside the bar! It's for you to keep inside."
"Th-thanks dad."
"You're welcome sport."
Sport. Holy shit your dad was out of touch with reality. But that didn't mean he wasn't your dad. You loved your family, even if you were too awkward to say it. You give your dad a nod before rushing towards the door, your dress shoes clicking away at the tile floor.
"Have a good first day Anon!"
"I will!"
You really hope you would. You open the door and walk out before closing it. You rush to your car and unlock it with the key. The car was a rusting Chevette colored in what was once the most offensive yellow ever. It struggled on the highway and rattled from 30 different places, but it ran and got good mileage. That's what counts. You jiggle the door latch a bit before it catches on whatever it was supposed to hook to. You wrestled the door open. When it finally broke free, more rust fell from it and landed on the driveway.

"Ah shit, not again." You sighed, setting the box in the passenger's seat and got the dustpan from the rear seat. You swept the rust up and threw it in the trash before rushing back to your car, remembering you were in a hurry. When you entered your car, you slammed the door shut and stuck the key in the ignition. You turned it to the on position and the comically large fuel gauge flicked to full and back down to half full. You repeat this a few more times to get enough fuel flowing to the carb to start. 

	You turn the key to start it and the poor old coupe whines before turning over. You hear the signature bang and let off the ignition, the radio turning itself on. Twilight Zone is playing on the radio. Fuck yeah, this is one of your favorites. You reverse out the driveway, singing to the music and bobbing your head to the beat. That was one of the few things inside the car that still worked, and you were glad it did. You shifted into first and sputtered down the road in your shitbox to your new job

	On the way to the bar, you see the usual trash. Drug dealers, hobos, hookers, all that shit. At a stop light, you saw some black guys yelling at some anthro foxes. They were all big guys compared to you. Also, the last time you tried white knighting for anthros, you ended up in the hospital. You just didn't understand why people hated anthros. They were just softer versions of regular people. 

You sigh to yourself as the light turns green. The rest of the drive to the bar was uneventful. You parked behind it and saw your uncle standing out back. He was a very rotund man with a balding head and glasses. He was also about an inch shorter than you. You turn your jalopy off and exit it. The car making a loud pop as you slam the door closed. Your uncle is practically running to you, keys in hand and papers under his arm.
"ANON! You made it! I heard that old beater from a few blocks away and got all excited!"
"Y-yeah I ma-"
"Well here's the keys and paperwork for the place! Have fun Anon!"
"W-wai-"
Before you could finish, he was in his car and driving away. You stood in the parking lot with papers and a box in one hand, and two sets of keys in the other.
"Fuck."

	You finished talking to the assistant manager, who agreed to give you help on finances and other business related things while you settled in. You had set the box under the bar table and were searching for a knife to open it with. You were really curious to see what it was. Maybe it was a sign or some frames to put pictures in? You find a pair of scissors and use them to cut the plastic ties. When the ties were cut, you set the box on the counter, lifting the top of it off. When you move the box, you're surprised by what you find. Your dad gave you a fucking gun. There was a note inside as well.

Dear Anon,
	Son, you're in a very iffy neighborhood dealing with very iffy characters. I hope you remember what I taught you when we went hunting together. Finger off the trigger, don't point it at anything you don't want dead, assume it's loaded, all that jazz. I hope you never have to use it. But if you ever do, I'm here to talk to you and your mother is here as well. I wish you the best of luck!
Love, Dad

You set the letter aside and take a closer look at the gun. It was a double-barreled shotgun that looks like it was sawed down at some point in its life. The box had 2 boxes of shells in it, which you took out and stored under the counter. You flicked the barrel down and saw it was empty. Good, you didn't just drive a shitty jalopy with a loaded shotgun pointed at your ass. You opened an ammo box, picking 2 shells out and loading them. You flick the barrels up and store the shotgun under the counter, hoping to never see it again.

	The bar was actually a pretty decent place. Random pictures of different things lined the walls, as well as jerseys in cases and helmets from different sports teams. The people you served weren't demanding at all. Most just asked for a beer or some whiskey, and when somebody wanted something special, you looked it up on google before making it. Everything was going smoothly. Until it wasn't.

A pair of anthro fox girls entered the bar in a rush and you recognize them from earlier. The whole bar goes quiet as they enter. Nobody says a single word and the two rush over to the counter.
"Hi, what can I get y-"
"Mister, you gotta hide us! There're people after us and they want to hurt us! We just wanted to go home and they jumped us!"
Oh shit, they were gonna get raped. A random guy in the bar spoke up.
"Git the hell outta here ya orange rats. Yer kind ain't welcome here!"
The rest of the bar starts to chant in agreement.
"Yeah! Get outta here!"
"Get out you disgusting beasts!"
This was getting out of hand. The crowd was getting rowdy and you could hear the loud thumping of bass getting closer to the bar. The 2 fox girls are hiding in their hoodies as the bar turns into a riot. You tried to speak.
"G-guys."
"GET OUTTA HERE YOU MUTANTS!"
"Guys?"
"YEAH! BEAT IT!"
"Guys!?"
"GET LOST FUCKHEADS!"
You lose your temper.
"EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
The bar shuts the fuck up immediately.
"Now then. Everyone is going to pretend that these fox ladies don't exist. If any of you even mention a passing rumor of anything furry coming through that door, you're being reported to the police as an accessory to rape AND thrown out of my bar. Do I make myself clear?"
The entire bar nods and agrees verbally.
"Good. Ladies, hop over the counter and hide under it. I'll deal with them."
The smile gratefully and hop over the counter, landing without a sound. The door to your bar flies open as one of the black goons enters the bar with a lead pipe in hand. The nigger music coming from outside is almost deafening as the other 2 enter. One of them has brass knuckles on, and another a baseball bat.
"Ayy white boy! You seen a couple uh fox ladies round here?"
"I'm sorry but, I don't run an information booth. I run a bar, so if you're not going to buy anything, then you should leave."
The tallest nigger approaches the counter and stares down at you.
"The hell you sayin cracka? I oughta bust yo face in you punk ass bitch."
You smile politely at the rude urban youth.
"But if you punch me, who will serve these men their beer?"
He cracks his knuckles.
"Some otha' punk ass white boy is gonna have ta serve em."
You scowl at him.
"Are you guys going to buy anything? Or are you just gonna keep calling me racial slurs and threatening me?"
The lead nignog snorts.
"Bitch ass cracka. Les go niggas."
They nigger walk out of the door and slam it closed. Screeching tires come from outside as they peal away in their lifted niggermobile.
"Thanks, guys, drinks on me."
The bar cheers and you look back to the 2 girls. They crawl out from under the counter and look you in the eye.
"Th-thank you, mister, how can we repay you?"
You feel spaghetti explode from your pockets and slam into the ceiling.
"Uh, um, well, uh, I-"
You didn't sign up for this shit!
"I-it's nothing r-really."
They giggle at the spaghetti still flying from your pockets.
"Thank you, mister, we'll be off to, um."
The other chimes in.
"Our house!"
"Yeah, our house!"
They look to the floor and back at you. What the fuck are they trying to say?
"I-is something wrong?"
They look at you again with puppy eyes.
"M-mister, we don't have any jobs and haven't really lived anywhere our whole lives. We were wondering if we could, you know, um-"
Oh shit, they're hobos. Cute furry orange hobos with floofy tails.
"You're hired."
They stand in shock at your sudden answer.
"R-really?"
Spaghetti is reaching light speed now.
"Y-yeah, you can even stay in the bar at night. I still-"
You decide to stop yourself before the spaghetti tears a rift in time and space.
"Nevermind, you're hired and can start today if you want."
They both pull you into a hug.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!"
They're almost 2 feet shorter than you are and sound like they just inhaled a helium balloon. The spaghetti is glowing now.
"I, uh, um, uh, erm, uh, y-you too."
SPAGHETTI STATUS: W A R P  S P E E D
You can't even speak without becoming a stuttering, bumbling mess. Luckily, the fox ladies see this and let you go. This, in turn, puts a cap on the rampant spaghetti spillage.
"Y-you can make drinks, r-right?"
They shake their heads.
"C-can you cook?"
They shake their heads again.
"Can you wr-write?"
They both nod.
"G-good, you're the new waitresses."
They smile and start walking around asking for orders.

	You were beat. The whole day was a clusterfuck of complaints about the anthros being in a human bar. This was followed by you promptly kicking them out of the bar. They weren't going to harass your employees. If they had a problem with them, then they can leave. The fox ladies had taken asylum in your office that you never used, sleeping on the floor. It wasn't much, but it was the least you could do for the poor girls. They were just barely 18 and were abandoned when they were 12. You were short on staff anyhow, so the more the merrier.

When you got home, your dad was waiting for you by the door.
"ANON! How was your first day?"
You sigh, tired from having to be up and moving all day.
"It was okay, I guess."
He frowns, concerned by your tone.
"What happened?"
You take a deep breath before speaking.
"Why do people hate anthros?"
He is taken aback by the question.
"I, em, don't know son. I would have to guess people think they're better than them. Why?"
"3, uh, urban youths walked into the bar-"
"AHAHAHA! Good one Anon!"
You weren't amused one bit. He clears his throat before speaking again.
"Continue."
"Well, they were chasing after these two fox ladies that came in beforehand. They started threatening me and asking where the two ladies were. I think I just stopped a rape dad."
His face softens into an understanding smile.
"You did good Anon. You're a good kid."
"T-thanks, y-you too."
He chuckles at your response.
"Well, I'll let you go to sleep for the night. Big day tomorrow and all."
You nod and slog towards the steps to the basement.
"Oh and Anon. Before you go."
You turn to him, his face now stern and serious.
"Don't be afraid to defend your property with that gift I gave you. Understand?"
The thought of pulling a gun on someone sent chills down your spine. But you nodded anyways.
"Good, now get some sleep."
You make your way down the stairs before flopping onto your bed, falling asleep as soon as you land.

	You wake to buzzing and slam your fist on the offending sound. The alarm making the noise goes silent as you groan. You really didn't want to go back to work, but you needed to make your family proud. Not to mention you had to keep the 2 foxes from getting lynched by all the angry patrons of the bar. You didn't even bother to change out of your clothes last night, so you just put on some deodorant and old spice. You smoothed the wrinkles out and combed your hair before smiling warmly at the mirror.
"Damn, I'm lookin' good."
Your duke Nukem impression was absolute ass. Before you embarrass yourself further, you go upstairs and leave.

	The car struggles to start this morning, but with a few pumps of the pedal, eventually gives. The drive to the bar was the same as yesterday. Boring and full of rock 'n roll. When you entered the bar, you saw the two fox ladies already cleaning the tables.
"H-hey, how're you two?"
They turn back and look at you before jumping in excitement.
"You're back!"
"Hi, Anon!"
You can already feel the spaghetti poking out of your pockets. They both run to you before pulling you into a group hug. You tried something that you never thought you would. You put your arms around them as well and hugged back.
"H-hi."
They let go and get back to work before work even started. You were definitely giving them a raise.

	The day kicked off without a hitch. You had premixed the common drinks the patrons asked for, making new ones and pouring beer for those who asked. That's when a group of girls came in the bar, talking to each other. A snow leopard, a white-tailed deer, a capybara, and a mouse. They were so busy talking to one another, that they didn't even notice it wasn't an anthro bar. Not that you discriminated anyways. The 4 girls took a seat at the counter and the deer spoke first.
"We'll take 4 margari-"
She looked around and the entire bar was silent.
"O-oh, I think we made a wrong t-turn somewhere. W-we'll be goi-"
You cut her off before she could leave.
"N-no! It's fine. We don't discriminate here miss. I'll get 4 margaritas ready to go for you real quick."
Everyone's staring at you now. Like you just committed heresy. Not that you cared, the bunch of racist pricks. You served them their margaritas as the bar began to normalize.
"T-thanks mister. H-here's the money."
You take only the money required to make the alcohol.
"Labor's on the house miss. Can't imagine the embarrassment you must be feeling right now."
You actually could imagine. It felt like that time you walked into the barber shop next to the comic store and asked whether the new Superman comic was out yet. Didn't even look up the entire time, your face buried in the last edition. When you didn't hear anyone answer, you looked up and saw 3 men getting their facial hair trimmed, suppressing laughter. It was like a spaghetti nuke went off inside the place. You're snapped out of your embarrassing flashback by the mouse girl.
"Th-thanks."
"N-no problem miss. Do you need something else?"
They shake their heads and leave as soon as they're done drinking.

	The day went by pretty quickly after that. No bar fights, crazy niggers, or any other anthros entered the bar and all the drinks were rather tame. You told the fox ladies good night and they gave you their normal hug before leaving. They must see you as some sort of father figure, or maybe they just like hugs. You weren't complaining though. You locked the door behind you and walked out to your jalopy. When you reached it, you fiddled with the door handle before it catches and opens. You insert the key into the ignition, hoping to let your car warm up a bit while blasting some tunes. The radio buzzes to life, playing something you haven't heard in forever. It's fucking jukebox hero. You start bobbing your head to the music when you hear a feminine scream come from somewhere to your right.

	You dig around in the back of your car and find your skinning knife. It had a sharp, hook-like protrusion on the rear that you used to cut open a hide for cleaning off the carcass. You quickly grabbed it and ran towards the direction of the scream.
"Ayy yo stop screamin' bitch!"
It was some trashy tweaker trying to grab somebody. You yell out, hoping to distract him long enough for the woman to escape.
"HEY! Leave her alone!"
He turns back to you, letting the girl slip loose in the progress.
"Get the fuck outta here you fuckin' shit head!"
He starts power walking across the street towards you. You back away, immediately regretting white knighting for the girl.
"You made me drop that bitch! Now imma fuck you up!"
He was carrying some sort of switchblade, which gleamed in the glow of streetlights. Fuck what were you doing? You couldn't fight! You were just a NEET retard! But this guy was probably high on something, meaning he wasn't exactly an MMA fighter by any means. You hold your knife just like they do in the games you play and put yourself into a combat stance. A familiar voice rang inside your ear.
"Snake! Try to Remember some of the basics of CQC!"
The tweaker went from a power walk to a run as he closed the distance. He got within 7 feet and lunged at you, blade first. Time slows and it feels like you're moving through molasses. You duck down, making his arm go over you and he pulls back. You kick him in the balls hard and he yelps in pain. You take the opportunity to punch him with as much force as you could muster. Your fist impacts the side of his head, making him stumble over. He slashed desperately and slowly, trying his best to attack you. You raise your knife the wrong way on accident to try and fend off the man's rapid slashes. You catch the blade on your buck knife by pure chance and are taken aback. The tweaker is also surprised by this, and you take this new opportunity to lock his blade in yours. You twist it out of his grasp, the blade clattering to the ground. You quickly kick the blade behind you and point your knife at him.
"Whoa man! I was just kiddin! Don't kill me please!"
You walk towards him menacingly as he raises his hands in panic.
"I'm sorry man! Don't hurt me please!"
You speak.
"Run."
He does so, running faster than that fast black dude from the Olympics. Jukebox hero is still blaring in the background, making you feel like one as well. You look back and see the lady from before run up to you.
"Th-thanks, I-"
She was the snow leopard from before. Back in the bar.
"O-oh, hi mister."
You can see the spaghetti falling from her pockets. Her ears went flat and she hung her head in embarrassment, wrapping her tail around her waist. You were so hyped up on adrenaline that you didn't even realize you were talking to a girl.
"Hi, you okay miss?"
She nods her head.
"Y-yeah, thanks for that. I-I'm Katherine, but you can call me Katy or Kathie if you want."
You nod.
"No problem. Do you need a ride home? I don't think it's safe to be out here alone in the dark like this."
Your adrenaline levels were dropping and you could feel your retardation creeping back in.
"I-if you want, that is."
She raised her head a bit, realizing she wasn't the only awkward one in this scenario.
"Y-yeah, I'd like that. Thanks."
You nod and walk her back to your car. When you reach the passenger door, you open it up for her. She smiles and steps inside, closing the door when she's in. You get over to the other side of your car, and get in, turning the key over. The car wheezes and coughs, but eventually starts with a bang. This startles Katy, making her jump.
"It's just the car. It's a junker."
She sighs, apparently relieved that she wasn't just shot at. You pull the shift lever into gear and let the clutch drop slowly, pulling out of the back.

	You take her back to her house, or apartment rather. She thanked you and left a piece of paper in the seat.
"Katy I think you dropped-"
She was gone before you could finish. You pick up the paper and a phone number was scrawled on it. This girl just left you her phone number.

	You make it back to your house and turn the car off, the exhaust making a bang as the exhaust valve slipped off the cam. You jiggle the door handle and it finally catches, allowing you to open it. Your dad is waiting by the door with his arms crossed and what you assume is a disappointed look on his face.
"ANON! Get your ass in here!"
"Coming dad!"
You slam the door to your car and rush up to the house. Your dad blocks your path in before speaking.
"Where the hell were you!? Your mother is worried sick!"
"D-dad, I was-"
"You should've called us! We got you a phone for a reason!"
Oh, shit your phone. You completely forgot to call.
"B-but dad-"
"NO BUTS! You go to your room right n-"
"DAD! LISTEN TO ME GOD DAMMIT!"
Your father is taken aback by your sudden outburst. You continue.
"Dad! I'm late because some tweaker held a snow leopard up and I had to do something. I told him to fuck off and he tried stabbing me. I had to-"
"HE DID WHAT!?"
"DAD! Wait until I'm done to explode, please. Anyways, I had to take the girl home because she was scared, and she, um, gave me this."
You pull out the slip of paper and your dad snatches it away before putting it up to the porch light. His expression softens immediately and is replaced with a knowing smile.
"That's my boy! A real ladies man. Just like your dad!"
He punches you in the shoulder before letting you pass. Before you make it to the basement, he calls out again.
"Oh, Anon! The bar's closed tomorrow, so you don't need to go if you don't want. I'll leave the number on the counter."
"Thanks, dad! I'm still going though. I have people who live there and don't want them to be left alone."
"Alright, son! I'll see you in the morning!"
You hit the bottom step and walk to the right, stripping out of your clothes as you do. Before you reach your bed, you've stripped to your underwear and you leap onto the bed. You wrap the blanket around you and pass out immediately

Chapter 2: Anon's home for furry friends
	You decided to name the bar, The AniMan. It's extremely corny, but it sort of rolls off the tongue. You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink, washing it down with water from the tap. You watch the suds swirl around the drain before disappearing into it. You wipe your face down, as you had just shaved and everything was starting to sting. You hated shaving. It's irritating and makes your face feel like sandpaper. But dad said it was necessary to look professional. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time. You'd combed your hair like those businessmen on your animes. You didn't know the name of it, but it was slick and professional looking. You also had dressed up in your second pair of church clothes. An orange button down shirt and a lighter pair of khakis. Topping it all off was a clip-on tie and a really expensive looking belt. You looked like the stereotypical prick boss. You smiled at this and gathered your things before rushing up the stairs to your car.

The car needed gas today. The massive fuel gauge barely lifted when you started the car, meaning it was almost empty. So you made a stop by the gas station across the street from Katy's apartment building. As you were pumping gas you hear something across the street.
"AND STAY OUT!"
Something slams and you see her stuff getting tossed out the door as well.
"YOU BASTARD! I TOLD YOU I HAD TO GET MY RENT FROM THE BANK!"
"SHOULD'VE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BITCH!"
The door slams again and she hisses angrily at the door. You hear a loud thunk and look down to see your tank is filled up. You smile and remove the nozzle, putting it back in its holder. A little cat girl thing pops up on the gas pump screen.
"Thanka you! Come again prease!"
You chuckle at that and go to the other side of your car. You cup your hands around your lips and shout to Katy.
"HEY! EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?!"
She whips around, fully expecting to have to cuss out some asshole catcaller. She immediately softens once she sees you. She grabs what she could carry, which was all of it and rushes across the street to you. When she reaches you, she's not able to look at you.
"H-hey Anon. I, uh, did you-"
"Mhm."
"Well, uh, you know, do you, um, mind taking me to the homeless shelter?"
Your jaw drops and you stare at her in disbelief.
"H-hey! I'm not taking you there! You're more than welcome to live with me!"
Oh shit, what did you just say?
"R-really! You mean it?"
"Of course!"
God dammit autism! Stop!
"Thank you thank you thank you!"
She pulls you into a hug, almost crushing you under her might.
"N-no problem!"
You manage to choke out before she lets go in embarrassment
"Oops, sorry. I guess I don't know my own strength."
You rub her shoulder tentatively.
"I-it's fine Katy. Let me take you to the bar so I can check on the waiters."
"Oh?"
"They live there. I let them stay there because they're homeless. I am going to buy some beds with the profits I get from the bar, so I can get you a bed too. It's not much but I can't take you to my house. I still, sort of, ya know."
"You live with your parents?"
Nuclear spaghetti explodes from your pockets at a considerable percentage of C.
"Y-yes."
She smiles warmly.
"I wish I was as smart as you."
Nigga wat?
"Y-you're not gonna call me a neckbeard loser?"
She giggles.
"No! I was dumb and moved out as soon as I turned 18! Didn't even have a job or any sort of education planned. I was planning on going to college, but that plan fell through when my asshole parents didn't give me my college funds. So, I've been trying to find a job and keep myself afloat."
You felt bad for her. She made an honest mistake and her parents weren't even going to give her the money they had saved up for her. Now she was homeless on top of it all! You were gonna fix 2 of those problems right now.
"Can you cook?"
She cocks her head.
"Why?"
"Just curious."
She nods.
"Of course I can. I'm a lady after all!"
She flicks her tail around as if she was flicking a dress around. It's kinda cute. When her tail comes to rest you hear a faint grumbling come from her.
"O-oops."
"Well, tell ya what, I'll take you over to the bar and make you something to eat. In exchange, you can be the bar's cook. We're really short on staff and need someone to make food. You up for it?"
She smiles and nods violently.
"Y-yes! Thanks, Anon!"
You smile at her enthusiasm.
"Let me get your bags for you."
You pick up her baggage. It feels like 2 massive blocks of lead. But you gotta be tough for the lady.
"W-what's in these things?!"
She lets out a laugh.
"My clothes!"
You smile as you feel your arms turn to wet noodles under the load. You walk to the back of your shitbox and set the massive boxes on the ground. They looked like suitcases but much larger. You were going to start working out next month. You struggled with the hatchback until it finally broke free, showering the ground in rust fragments and paint chips. Good thing no marines were in the area, they might vacuum them up off the ground like light yellow lemon slices. You hefted the boxes one by one into your car, as they made the sagging suspension bounce in the rear.
"You might need some new springs Anon, and a new car too."
You chuckle.
"She still runs, I've had her since I was 16 and she hasn't died more than 10 times!"
It was Katy's turn to laugh.
"It still runs after that!?"
"Yep, I've almost completely rebuilt the engine over the years, only things not replaced on it are the block and cams. Say, how'd you know it was the springs?"
She looks down at the ground, spaghetti leaking from her pockets.
"I, uh, um, you promise you won't laugh?"
You shake your head and heave the other box into the back of the car.
"I was kind of a gear head when my dad worked at a mechanic shop. I actually helped him fix some guy's old Pontiac once. It looks like it's straight out of the factory."
You remember seeing a Pontiac around here a few times. Some scarred up guy and a tiger ride around in it sometimes. People called him Chick or something. But that's something else entirely. You were impressed that she would know anything about cars, let alone be able to recommend a part.
"That's actually pretty cool. My dad actually turned this from a junker to a working car within a month. At least GM knows how to make a shit box that can be serviced."
She nods at that.
"Yeah, more of a Ford girl myself."
Before this turns into a sperg out on cars, you slam the hatch closed, showering the ground in more paint chips and rust fragments.
"Let's get going, shall we?"
She smiles and power walks to the passenger's side.
"Let's!"

	You reach the bar and open the door of your car. The sweltering heat of the day already reaching a fever pitch. You thanked god that the AC in your yellow trash heap worked before shutting off the car, unlocking the doors as you did. Katy gets out of the car and you slam the door closed, walking to the rear of your car. You lift the hatch up and heft one of her 'bags' out of it. She takes the other, insisting on you not breaking your back for her. You set her bag, box thing on the floor and your two fox ladies wake when they hear it.
"Anon!"
They both run up and give you their signature hug before bouncing around the office.
"Wow, they're, excitable."
You laugh at this.
"You have no idea."
She flicks her tail around a bit as she looks around. The tip of it wagging from side to side as she looks at your desk. You've never actually used the desk before. Being as busy as you were, you never had time to sit and do other things. Might as well check and see what uncle left you. You walked over and opened the biggest drawer up first. What you found surprised you. A metric shit ton of pistols. Some of them you recognized from video games, a Glock 17, some random revolvers, a Tec 9, even a fucking desert eagle. Who the fuck leaves a desert eagle sitting in a desk drawer? You decide to leave them alone, not wanting any trouble and doubting most of these are legal. Katy speaks up.
"What'd you find Ano-"
She looks at the massive pile of guns sitting in the drawer.
"Whoa! Nice!"
She picks up the Glock and cycles it a few times, loaded rounds coming out the chamber. Her ears go flat and she ejects the magazine before pulling the slide back again, setting it down on the table.
"S-sorry, I didn't know it was loaded."
That was one thing your dad taught you. Always treat a gun like it's loaded. You pick the rounds off the carpeted floor and stick them back into the magazine with great effort.
"It's fine, just don't go digging around in here unless somebody bre-"
You hear something fiddling with the door out front.
"Are you fucking serious?"
You grab the Glock and slam the magazine in, racking the slide and walking out the door. You peek around the corner and see 2 melanin enriched individuals trying the door to your bar. One of them has a crowbar, one has a gun of some sort. The one with a gun speaks.
"Ay yo fuck dis shit nigguh let me at it."
The man raises his gun to the lock and he pulls the trigger.
BANG
Your ears are ringing and you feel your adrenaline levels skyrocket. It feels like you could float away you feel so light. You poke your gun and head around the corner and see the 2 niggers enter your bar. You take aim at one.
"HEY!"
The one with the gun sees you pointing your own at him before he drops his.
"Ayo friend, we coo-"
"I am NOT your friend. You get the fuck out of my bar before I turn your black asses into a modern art display."
"What the fu-"
You shoot above their heads.
"NOW!"
They scamper away like the disgusting pests they are before getting in their old Cadillac. They spin the wheels and get the hell out of dodge. You walk over to your counter and set the gun down before walking to the door. You check the lock and see it's completely fucked. You'd need to get a new one when you finished work this week. Your blood was boiling.
"FUCKING NIGGERS! GOD DAMMIT!"
You punch the wall and the plaques rattle above you. You take a deep breath, just like the therapist said to. You calmed down eventually and realized you were starving. You turn back to see Katy and the two fox girls approaching you cautiously.
"S-sorry, I get mad sometimes. I understand if you're scared."
Katy's the first one to speak.
"A-Anon, we're not scared. We're glad you did that. I honestly thought you were going to, well, never mind. I'm just glad you made them leave."
She gets in really close to you. Uncomfortably close.
"Thank you, Anon."
She wraps her tail around you and pulls you into a kiss. Spaghetti is reaching light speed as you space out, not knowing what to do. You feel your cheeks reaching temperatures that rival the suns. Eventually, you fall into it, letting her take you for a ride. Eventually, she breaks away for air and you take a breath as well. The two fox girls are next.
"Aaaaw! That's so cute!"
You feel spaghetti flowing from Katy's pockets now as she looks away from them, embarrassed.
"I-I'm not cute!"
You smirk at this, time to beat your autism into submission.
"You're pretty cute Katy."
You can see the redness coming from behind her fur.
"Y-you too."
She immediately realizes what she said.
"I MEAN-"
You chuckle at her awkwardness.
"It's fine Katy, I know how that feels."
"Y-you do?"
"Have you forgotten who you're talking to? The king of autism?"
She giggles at this, her ears raising up.
"Yeah, thanks Anon. You're really sweet."
AUTISM: ENGAGED
"Y-you too."
You realize what you said and laugh. So does Katy.
"That's the Anon I know!"
The fox girls are giggling like little school girls now. You hear a growl come from the snep and inhale sharply.
"Oh shit, I forgot to make something!"
You let go of Katy and rush over to the kitchen in a hurry.

	You decided to make a grilled cheese and bacon sandwich. Pretty basic, but you didn't feel like dirtying a gorrilion pans. You grabbed the big saucer of sandwiches and took it out to the counter, setting it between the 3 girls. Katy takes a sandwich and devours it greedily. The 2 foxes take a sandwich each and eat them slowly, enjoying each bite. When Katy was done eating, she had eaten 4 sandwiches and split one with you. The foxes had eaten 2 each, wiping themselves off with a napkin afterward. Katy lets out a belch before covering her mouth.
"Excuse me."
You chuckle.
"You're excused. I'll set these in the fridge for you three if you get hungry. The kitchen is free for you to use. I don't feel like calling the police and dealing with a bunch of questions and bullshit. So if you girls want, I'll leave the gun drawer open. If you don't know how to shoot, you can look it up on the computer and practice with empty guns. I don't want you three playing soldier with loaded guns."
They all nod and you pick up the Glock from the table. You click the magazine release and rack the slide back, letting the round drop to the counter. You pick it up and stick it back in the magazine before slapping it back in. You walk back to the desk and put it on the top. You continue looking through the drawers and find nothing interesting until the drawer above the chair opening. Inside is a metal gear 3 cover style box, with a note on it. The note reads: For Anon, Love Uncle Pete. You open the box and see a 1911A1 with a threaded barrel and something carved into the grip. It was a fucking snake. The paper inside the box read: Kept ya waiting, huh? Below the gun is a metal tube which you assume is the suppressor. You pull the drawer open further and see 3 boxes of .45 ACP sitting in a neat row. 1 reads FMJ, another reads Sub-Sonic for suppressed use. The last one looked more military like. It read:

50 CARTRIDGES
PISTOL BALL
CALIBER .45 M1911
AMMUNITION LOT EC43(faded)
EVANSVILLE ORDINANCE PLANT
Your uncle left you a fucking replica of Snake's 1911 in pristine condition, along with 150 rounds of ammo for it? Not to mention the FUCKING SUPPRESSOR! You slide the drawer closed and lock it, not wanting any of the girls to touch the gun. After that whole fiasco, you made sure they were all comfortable and moved them all to the upstairs rooms. There was an apartment like area above the bar where you assumed your uncle used to live. It was very clean, save for some dust on the old CRT TV. They all settled in and watched TV with you for the rest of the day.

	You decided to stay at the bar tonight. You didn't feel like leaving the 3 of them out here in the night with rabid niggers roaming around. You had grabbed your shotgun from the counter and set it by your nightstand. Your uncle had a bunch of clothes that were just your size. The amount of luck you've had today would make a leprechaun blush bright green. You called your folks and your dad said yes, much to your mother's dismay. It turns out that your mother was extremely racist against anthros as well.
"YOU CAN'T LET HIM STAY ALONE WITH THOSE THINGS! THEY'LL EAT HIM ALIVE!"
"Mom, they're just furry people. You need to chi-"
"NO! I'VE SEEN TOO MANY CASES OF PEOPLE GETTING MAULED BY THOSE CREATURES! YOU GET BACK HERE THIS INS-"
"Bye love you."
You hung up and flung the covers over you. Katy was already fast asleep, along with the 2 fox girls. You began to drift off to sleep when something scoots into bed with you. This seems familiar. But also distant. You feel a furry arm wrap around you and you're engulfed in soft fur. Then what feels like a motor comes from behind you. You realize it's Katy purring, something you haven't heard her do before. It put you at ease, knowing something was snuggled up against you. You drift off to sleep to the rumble and soft fur of Katy.

	Morning comes and you feel a very subtle rumble on your back. You turn yourself over and see Katy is clinging to you like an oversized teddy bear. You clear your throat.
"Ahem."
She opens her eyes slowly and then gasps.
"Oh my gosh I'm soooo sorry! I was just, cold, and, you know-"
"Katy, it's fine. I actually like it."
She smiles, snuggling closer to you.
"That doesn't mean that we can stay in bed all day. We have work to do."
She groans, letting you go and sitting up, stretching.
"What's going to be on the menu?"
"Whatever you can make."
She smiles and heads off to get dressed while you put some clothes on your self. The two fox ladies were already in some clothes of their own, ready to work. They headed downstairs and you put on some slacks and a checkered shirt. You put on your apron and a belt when you see something fall from the belt.
"What's this?"
It was a holster. Dammit, you didn't want to think about guns right now! All you wanted to think about was keeping the bar afloat and making some money. You needed a newer car dammit!
"How do I look?"
You turn around and see Katy dressed in a, well, dress. It was a bit formal for a place like this, but whatever. If it works, it doesn't matter.
"Looks good. Let's go draft a menu."

	You sigh again.
"It needs to be less than 6 ingredients."
She smiles again, enthusiasm knowing no bounds.
"What about grilled cheese and tuna?"
You write that down, satisfied with the list of ingredients.
"That'll work. Anything else?"
You had grilled cheese, with and without bacon, BLTs, a sort of chicken wrap, and some cheeseburgers. She pipes up again.
"Oh! What about, an apple cheddar panini? I used to make them when I worked in a restaurant!"
You write that down as well.
"That sounds nice. We have a good menu, now we just need to make it official."
The fox girls were out cleaning tables, leaving you and Katy alone to make the menu. Wait, you and Katy. Alone? You can feel spaghetti bubble up from your pockets as your cheeks heat up. Katy breaks the ice again with a loud statement.
"Oh! What about some franks? Like hotdogs, but seasoned with stuff!"
You write that down too.
"Sounds good. Now we have an even larger menu. I'll go and make an official one real quick on the computer. Can you make sure the girls don't play tag in the bar please?"
She nods, walking off to the bar area. You walk over to the desk and sit down, the computer still running from yesterday. You start typing the menu and stylizing it. You go to pull yourself back, but the desk drawer opens when you slide yourself backward. The contents of it fly forward and a bandana comes forward as well. Your uncle was definitely a Metal Gear fan. You take the bandana out and wrap it around your head, putting your 1911 in the holster on your right.
"Kept ya waiting, huh?"
You print the menu out and close the drawer, watching the copies come out of the printer.
"Anon, there are people outside!"
You unholster the pistol and check the chamber, which is loaded. You holster it again and put it on safe, walking out to see some anthro women outside your broken door.
"H-hello? We heard you were looking for bartenders?"
You look off to the side, spaghetti beginning to spill.
"Y-yeah, why?"
One of the more confident women, a cheetah girl, steps in front of them.
"We'd like to apply!"
You smile awkwardly and pull open the door.
"M-mind the step."
You hear them whisper as you go by.
"Is he retarded?"
"Shut up, I think he hears us!"
They all walk past at a brisk pace and you go to grab some applications.

	The day was going by as usual. Except you were now sitting in the office, carving out a sign. You weren't very good at naming things, but you could make a sign from wood burning. You finished burning the 'n' in AniMan and looked at it. The workmanship wasn't too bad, but it could use a little bit of work. Oh well, this is what you had, and it's good enough. The sign said 'The AniMan' and underneath it said 'non-segregated'. You bring the sign outside and see something you thought you'd never see. More anthros ordering drinks. You smile at this, bringing your sign outside and hanging it where the old sign used to be. A couple of anthros see you hanging it up and point to it. They follow you inside and take a seat at a table, one of the foxes taking their orders swiftly. Everything was going well.

	Until night time, that is. You were counting the money you had earned that day, which was close to 5 grand, when you hear a heavy pounding on the door.
"Open up! We need to have a word with you!"