“Just another morning in Brooklyn,” I muttered while weaving through the foot traffic. My favorite Bagel shop was halfway between my subway stop and my day gig.
While never the same twice, it was always an experience at "Arkham Coffee and Lox."
As I opened the door, the familiar chime rang out. Call of Cthulhu by Metallica blared over the speakers.
“It is he, the eternal one,” the college aged student sitting behind the counter cried out excitedly, jumping to his feet. His pupils dilated and he hurried to the counter.
“I… One Lox everything bagel. I’ve got a meeting in 10 minutes. Can we just get to it?” I muttered “I don’t have time for dramatics today.”
“It is he, the man with the elder sigil.” The young man continued, without taking down my order or answering the question. “Our great master.”
I looked down at my shirt, a holdover from my punk and ska days. It had been inspired by a friend of mine who was a big Lovecraft fan. Our band name had been "Escape from Innsmouth," a post-punk goth outfit that I used to be the frontman for, a secret long since purged from my social media history. It was indeed a cool shirt though.
“It's just a band shirt man, come on we do this every time-” I tried to argue
“We have a reward for our lord and savior,” the young man said, drawing an ornate knife from a holster on his back. “My flesh as a blessing!”
“Hey man, I just wanted a lox bagel.” I muttered, taking a step back. I was a New Yorker, so this was far from the wildest thing I’d seen between the walk from my house to the subway, but I knew “crazy” when I saw it. “Oh COME ON!”
I was shocked as the man drew the ritualistic dagger across his tongue and disemboweled himself in front of my very eyes while cackling.
“COULD YOU NOT?!?” I cried out in a panic “IT’S 7:15 in the morning IN BROOKLYN! Man, who is going to clean this up?!?!”
“MY FLESH FOR MY MASTER, BATHE IN MY BLOOD” The bagel shop employee squealed in glee as he pulled his long intestine around his neck like a feather boa. He seemed unfazed by the damage to his abdomen.
“HEY! CUT THAT OUT!” I screamed at him, disgusted by the macabre sight.
“... Is my blood rite not enough? I can get others to join in.” He said, seemingly dejected.
Before I could respond, three more men appeared from the back of the shop, each in the same uniform, but with scarlet robes. They each knelt before me, dagger in hand and chanting in deep speech.
“I… NO. NO. Just put your guts back in and clean yourself up man!” I snarled. “I just wanted a bagel, what the hell are you doing? This is terrible customer service. I want to speak to your manager!”
One of the hooded men pulled the hood down. “Oh hey, what’s up?”
“I- I just want you guys to start my order BEFORE you start getting blood all over the place.”
I lamented
“Oh.” The manager said, tilting his head “We thought that doing this before your meal would sanctify it under your grace.”
“I mean... I appreciate the effort. But nah, that's NOT necessary today... But can you throw a coffee in with my order? Americano, Medium size, Dark Roast, Black.” I relented.
“Yes your excellency,” The man said with a bow, making for the espresso machine.
The disemboweled bagel shop employee stared at me and blinked twice. He shrugged, and unwrapped his guts from his shoulder, and shoved them back inside of himself. He stapled the wounds with the cash wrap stapler, and taped his waste back together with clear packing tape.
I just shook my head. “Wash your damn hands first, and put on new gloves. What is this, amateur hour?” I barked at him. “Have some pride in your work, stand up straight!”
"Kids these days," I muttered out loud, shaking my head. "Always getting ahead of themselves."
I glanced at my watch. This had eaten up 5 minutes of my pre-work downtime. I sighed out in frustration. “Third time this goddamn week. Kids these days” I muttered, taking the coffee and bagel. “And you call yourselves acolytes?”
“Next time take my order and fulfill it, THEN disembowel. How am I supposed to bring a new era of civilization if this is how my downtime is going?” I spat, leaving the shop.
“SIR WAIT!” The manager called out.
“You forgot to get your card stamped. You’re only one away from getting a free bagel.”
he said politly.
I sighed and pulled out my wallet again and handed him my frequent customer card. He handed it back full, and gave me an extra stamp on my new card for good measure.
“I mean, you know how to keep me coming back.” I chuckled.
"See you tomorrow!" He said cheerily, still clutching the dagger in his off-hand.
FoxFyr_92 t1_j7cjv2r wrote
Reply to [WP] You were just minding your own business when suddenly, strange people wearing red hooded cloaks appoach you. Saying that you are the incarnation of an eldritch god. by FS_E54_Iron_Hollow
“Just another morning in Brooklyn,” I muttered while weaving through the foot traffic. My favorite Bagel shop was halfway between my subway stop and my day gig.
While never the same twice, it was always an experience at "Arkham Coffee and Lox."
As I opened the door, the familiar chime rang out. Call of Cthulhu by Metallica blared over the speakers.
“It is he, the eternal one,” the college aged student sitting behind the counter cried out excitedly, jumping to his feet. His pupils dilated and he hurried to the counter.
“I… One Lox everything bagel. I’ve got a meeting in 10 minutes. Can we just get to it?” I muttered “I don’t have time for dramatics today.”
“It is he, the man with the elder sigil.” The young man continued, without taking down my order or answering the question. “Our great master.”
I looked down at my shirt, a holdover from my punk and ska days. It had been inspired by a friend of mine who was a big Lovecraft fan. Our band name had been "Escape from Innsmouth," a post-punk goth outfit that I used to be the frontman for, a secret long since purged from my social media history. It was indeed a cool shirt though.
“It's just a band shirt man, come on we do this every time-” I tried to argue
“We have a reward for our lord and savior,” the young man said, drawing an ornate knife from a holster on his back. “My flesh as a blessing!”
“Hey man, I just wanted a lox bagel.” I muttered, taking a step back. I was a New Yorker, so this was far from the wildest thing I’d seen between the walk from my house to the subway, but I knew “crazy” when I saw it. “Oh COME ON!”
I was shocked as the man drew the ritualistic dagger across his tongue and disemboweled himself in front of my very eyes while cackling.
“COULD YOU NOT?!?” I cried out in a panic “IT’S 7:15 in the morning IN BROOKLYN! Man, who is going to clean this up?!?!”
“MY FLESH FOR MY MASTER, BATHE IN MY BLOOD” The bagel shop employee squealed in glee as he pulled his long intestine around his neck like a feather boa. He seemed unfazed by the damage to his abdomen.
“HEY! CUT THAT OUT!” I screamed at him, disgusted by the macabre sight.
“... Is my blood rite not enough? I can get others to join in.” He said, seemingly dejected.
Before I could respond, three more men appeared from the back of the shop, each in the same uniform, but with scarlet robes. They each knelt before me, dagger in hand and chanting in deep speech.
“I… NO. NO. Just put your guts back in and clean yourself up man!” I snarled. “I just wanted a bagel, what the hell are you doing? This is terrible customer service. I want to speak to your manager!”
One of the hooded men pulled the hood down. “Oh hey, what’s up?”
“I- I just want you guys to start my order BEFORE you start getting blood all over the place.”
I lamented
“Oh.” The manager said, tilting his head “We thought that doing this before your meal would sanctify it under your grace.”
“I mean... I appreciate the effort. But nah, that's NOT necessary today... But can you throw a coffee in with my order? Americano, Medium size, Dark Roast, Black.” I relented.
“Yes your excellency,” The man said with a bow, making for the espresso machine.
The disemboweled bagel shop employee stared at me and blinked twice. He shrugged, and unwrapped his guts from his shoulder, and shoved them back inside of himself. He stapled the wounds with the cash wrap stapler, and taped his waste back together with clear packing tape.
I just shook my head. “Wash your damn hands first, and put on new gloves. What is this, amateur hour?” I barked at him. “Have some pride in your work, stand up straight!”
"Kids these days," I muttered out loud, shaking my head. "Always getting ahead of themselves."
I glanced at my watch. This had eaten up 5 minutes of my pre-work downtime. I sighed out in frustration. “Third time this goddamn week. Kids these days” I muttered, taking the coffee and bagel. “And you call yourselves acolytes?”
“Next time take my order and fulfill it, THEN disembowel. How am I supposed to bring a new era of civilization if this is how my downtime is going?” I spat, leaving the shop.
“SIR WAIT!” The manager called out.
“You forgot to get your card stamped. You’re only one away from getting a free bagel.”
he said politly.
I sighed and pulled out my wallet again and handed him my frequent customer card. He handed it back full, and gave me an extra stamp on my new card for good measure.
“I mean, you know how to keep me coming back.” I chuckled.
"See you tomorrow!" He said cheerily, still clutching the dagger in his off-hand.
"Just another day in Brooklyn."