Business for a Busy Beast

[Sly Speakeasy]

?Come now Giggles, we made a deal,? Sly crooned, his paw outstretched. ?I do your dishes, and you give me three copper. A deal?s a deal my friend, you owe me.?

?I don?t owe you spit, vole!? the wildcat snarled. ?I ain?t seen you clean a damn thing for days! What am I payin? you for??

?Now Giggles, you may not have seen me cleaning, exactly, but rest assured, the chores have been done. Has Gerry made a fuss??

?No, but?? the wildcat began.

?Then what are we worried about?? Sly interrupted. ?Your job?s done, and not by you. And best of all, Gerry?s none the wiser! You?re home free, er, in a manner of speaking! You can take the rest of the day off, knowing full well you don?t deserve it. And that, my friend, is the greatest feeling of all. And I want you to experience it. But first things first?I need the money.?

The wildcat frowned, seeming to still be thinking it over somehow. But, alas, he procured the coins and placed them into Sly?s grasping paws.

?Don?t feel right,? the wildcat said. ?Don?t know what you?re doing, but it can only bite us in the tail. I?m doin? my own from now on.?

?I must say, that disappoints me. But alas, this last week was all I needed anyways, so?no loss on my end. Good day to you, Giggles!? Sly pocketed the coins and skipped out of the kitchens and into the halls. After several minutes of walking, the vole found a small rat cowering by the wall, scratching at his arm absentmindedly.

?Itch!? Sly cried, making the rat jump. ?I bring good fortune!?

?Shh!? the rat whisper-shrieked. ?We can?t be seen speaking!?

Sly froze, holding his paws out to his sides. ?You?re right. Don?t want to ruin the plan. I won?t be long, then. I brought you what you asked. For, you know, helping me out this week.? Sly winked, and reached into his pocket jangling with coins, and produced a wooden spoon. Itch?s eyes lit up, and snatched it out of the vole?s paw in a panic.

?I can?t believe you! Waving it around like that!? the rat shrieked, no whispers this time. ?There are eyes everywhere! Do you want to ruin this escape before it even begins?!?

?No, not at all, so sorry,? Sly answered. ?How soon will you be out of this prison, if you don?t mind my asking??

?It will be hard, but in mere weeks I suspect,? Itch answered, staying true to his name and scratching his neck with his new spoon. ?Don?t worry, Sly. I?ll let you know when I?m there.?

?I?ll be waiting with bated breath,? the vole answered, and turned to leave. As he left the rat?s sight, he called back to Itch. ?Oh, and if that breaks against the stone you'll be digging through, you know where to find me.?

And now, the fun part. Betting on my future.

He was in such a rush, the vole ignored his usual careful path through the tunnels and instead travelled straight towards The Drag to meet with the Crater?s own personal bookie, a mangy weasel named Copper. Lowly beasts, slaves, and dashing voles like Sly were only allowed to gamble through this beast. A frustrating fact that Sly was not aware of until recently.  He approached the somewhat dilapidated booth tucked away in an even more unpleasant corner. Copper was picking at his teeth, counting a handful of bronze. Sly took a deep breath, and plastered on his most winning smile.

?Ahoy, Coppo! Perfect day to make a fortune, eh??

Copper glanced up from his monotonous task, and plastered on his own twisted grin. ?Aye, every day?s a good day to make a bit o? coin. How much we talkin? here??

?I?ve got quite a big purse, if I may boast. Several dozen coppers in fact.?

Copper snorted. ?A small fortune to be made fer sure. What beasts is goin? to be yer hero today??

?I?m betting it all on my close friend and personal hero Kentigern MacRaff,? Sly answered, tossing the purse onto the table. Copper?s grin somehow grew even more twisted.

?Aye, MacRaff the Wrathful an? Hracken the Kracken. Two total nobeasts. Solid choice.?

Sly could feel himself deflating. ?Not exactly. Mac?s a Highlander, after all, not a nobeast! His clan goes back, way back, back to when fighting was new! And this Crackin? fellow?he?who?s he??

?You don? have to build up yer prospects fer me, I ain?t the one bettin?. I win whether you do or not,? Copper said, his smile much more genuine by this point. ?Now you wanna still put it all on these two? Or how?s about bettin? on two real winners, Ripfang the Wild and Raggabrash the Beheader??

Sly almost sold out right then and there, but a certain toothy smile came to mind. The vole remembered why he was really here. ?So, what you?re telling me is, I?ll win much more if my hare-y friend Mac comes out on top tonight??

?Aye. That?s how gamblin? works.?

?Then put it all on Mac! And this Crackin? beast I now have equal faith in!? Sly cried, and slammed his fist on the table. Copper nodded.

?Good. Co-pay is a dozen copper.?

?Co-what now??

?? ?? ?? ?? ??

Damn weasel. Taking my money before I even lose. What a scam. Wish I'd thought of it.

Sly had handed over all his hard earned coin to the slimy weasel, all except for enough to buy the drink he would desperately need after this whole affair. The vole was pacing around the hallways around the Crater, mentally preparing himself to watch his own horrible, agonizing failure. MacRaff?s fight was only a few matches away, so it was high time the vole made his way to the stands. Beasts were milling about and shouting to one another, coin and drink being exchanged between paws as beasts much better off were having themselves a time. Sly felt sick. And the bloodcurdling screams of beasts dying just out of sight was not very helpful either.
The vole was nearing the entrance to the servant?s stands, when a bit of conversation found its way to Sly?s ear.

??Raggabrash really lives up to his title. Not one of his matches ends without a beheading.?

The vole?s ears perked up at the name, and he frantically glanced around to see who was speaking. He soon spotted a hedgehog slave, who was speaking to a fellow stoat slave as they scrubbed the floor. Sly started to practically run towards them and interject into the conversation, when he remembered the iron collar around his neck. Quickly, he undid his headband and wrapped it around his neck, doing his best to hide the collar. Once he felt presentable, he rushed towards the two.

?Hullo, lowly slave beasts!? he said, smiling. ?I couldn?t help but overhear you mention the Beheader? My scribes have been in my ear for weeks telling me I should be very interested in him, would you agree??

The hedgehog fell silent, and scrubbed the floor much harder. The stoat merely grumbled. Sly?s heart raced. With a great, inward sigh, the vole reached into his pocket and grabbed his last two pieces of copper, and presented them to the slaves. Their eyes lit up as Sly?s heart sank.

?Aye,? said the hedgehog. ?Raggabrash be a crazy beast. I knew a rat who used to be cellmates with him.?

?Oh? Cellmates with the famous Beheader??

?He weren?t famous then, but he wanted to be,? the hedgehog continued. ?Finally he got the chance, an? did so well he earned his freedom right then an? there. ?Cept he didn?t leave, jus? stayed to fight some more. He an? his brother that is.?

?His brother? Who?s that?? Sly asked.

?Ripfang, roight? Oi think they asked to be a team,? the stoat chimed in.

?Aye, them two are brothers. Crazy must run in the family,? the hedgehog continued. ?They don? fight for any reason other than the glory. Playin? with their victims for the crowd an? all that.?

?Yarr, an? Ripfang ain?t too good at fightin? neither,? the stoat added. ?I hear he jus? there fer the fun. Raggabrash is the real muscle o? the two from what you been tellin? me.?

?Now that?s just?titillating information,? Sly exclaimed, and tossed each of them a copper. ?I truly wish I could give you more. But alas, time is money, and my time is short. I must be off, but worry not! I shall remember you.?

Sly calmly left the two to their soul-crushing work and, as soon as he knew they weren?t paying him any more attention, dashed off as fast as he could to the gladiator quarters to find MacRaff. The little vole weaved between the crowd of beasts, bumping into a few and dashing between the legs of others. He had no idea how long he had before he?d miss MacRaff. Sly was about to compliment himself on his sudden newfound agility, when a massive wall of fur suddenly appeared before him. He crashed right into it, sending him sprawling on the floor. The hulking mass turned and, to Sly?s utter despair, the vole realized it belonged to none other than Blasio. The beast looked angry, until his eyes found who crashed into him. He smiled.  His big, toothy smile.

?Well, well, well. Fancy you running into me here,? the beaver chuckled. ?Where are you off to? The pub is that way, I believe.?

Sly shot back a grin of his own, and jumped straight back up to attempt to look the beast in the eyes. ?Oh I?m keenly aware of the pub?s location, don?t you worry. But no, Buck my friend, I don?t have time for pleasure today, for I am on business.?

?Ah, I remember the days when business and pleasure were mutually exclusive,? Blasio said. ?Thank you, my tiny friend, for the nostalgia.?

?It?s what I?m here for,? Sly replied. ?But since you asked, now I?m curious to know where are you going? The mess hall is nowhere nearby. Have you been invited to eat the losing beasts??

The beaver laughed, and slapped his belly. ?No, no, no. Since you ask, I am on my way to the Podium. Oh, I suspect you have no idea what that is. You see, it?s where the wealthiest patrons sit??

?Oh I know of the podium, Buck. I?m there all the time. I?m just too small for you to notice me.?

?Ah yes, you certainly are,? Blasio grinned. ?But fear not. If you play your cards right, I?m sure you?ll be allowed to scrub its floors again. Good luck, Mr. Speaky.? The massive beast brushed passed Sly, knocking him to the floor once more.

Bitterly, the vole struggled back to his feet and brushed himself off.

One of these days, Buck. I'll wipe that dumb smile right off your face.

Without a second to lose, he rushed to make his fortune.