fandomtownies | Caritas- Saturday

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Caritas- Saturday

It hadn't taken very long to figure out that something was going on this weekend, and Kitty was just glad she was unaffected. When she noticed that some places had changed, though, she decided to head in to Caritas and see if there was anything she would need to deal with, and... nope, not really.

Well, aside from Tino going on about dames and smoking in the bar, at which point she'd had to yell at him about this being a non-smoking establishment no matter how weird he was today, and ordered him outside if he was going to light up. There was a chance that if you passed by you'd see him standing ten feet from the door (as ordered) doing just that.

Otherwise she was normal, the bar was normal, the alcohol was normal and the zombies were normal and also still selling T-shirts. Kitty didn't trust any of it.

[Caritas is unchanged for the weekend, meaning people are totally invited to come in and wtf, or bust the place up or what have you.]

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Buy a damn t-shirt.

There was a new zombie in the band tonight, wearing a band T-shirt and showing off his sleek mustache, shades, and fedora. His limbs were holding together better than most, but the tell-tale duct tape and the stench of the morgue made it clear: this guy was dead, brother. And yet he made his sweet sax sing like the liveliest canary in the mine.

If any undead ladies out there were curious and asked, "Braaaaaiiiiiiiins?" well, he'd tell you his name was "Braaaaaaaains." And by that, he meant Matches. Matches Malone. Glad to play for you tonight. No, he was definitely not Bruce Wayne, who had faked his death for reasons yet unrevealed.

Get a drink. Because you can.

Suddenly the doors to Caritas burst open and Vic stormed in. Her gun was drawn and in her other hand was her badge held high in the air. "Nobody move!" She shouted. "This is a raid!"

Okay, apparently this weekend was weirder than normal.

"Uh," Kitty said eloquently. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Miss Pryde," Vic said sauntering into the bar area. "Your in violation of prohibition law and health code 47723."

She nodded n the direction of the zombies.

"Serving food or drink in the presence of a dead body."

"You do realize we're in Fandom, right?" Kitty asked, because she actually had to check this weekend.

"I know exactly where I am, Pryde," Vic said as she lit up a cigarette. "Fandom Island. A cesspool do evil and corruption. Where the rich get richer and the little guy never gets his due."

Was that a saxophone wailing in the background?

"I may just be a flatfoot to you, Pryde but I got a job to do. And if I have to take down the lawbreakers in this town on my own so be it."

"Okay, then you need to be standing ten feet from the door outside my bar if you're gonna smoke," Kitty said.

She was decidedly not asking about the saxophone.

Vic shot Kitty a look before dropping it in an empty bottle of beer.

"So you're going to play it that way Pryde?" Vic practically growled. "Fine. Your place. Your rules. I'm going to look the other way. For now. As long as you can provide me some information."

She pulled out a black and white photo of the Bruce Wayne crime scene and tossed it on the bar. "You know who that is?"

Kitty looked at the pboto. "Bruce Wayne?"

That might have changed since yesterday, who knew.

"That was his name," Vic said yanking the photo back. "He was found dead this morning. I haven't gotten the autopsy back yet but it doesn't take a gumshoe to figure there was foul play involved. I don't suppose you know anything about that? I'm sure a woman running a place like this hears lots of things. Maybe Mr. Wayne was here last night on one of his alcohol fueled tours of bars and loose women throughout Fandom last night?"

Kitty had no idea how she managed to keep a straight face.

"It's possible he was," she said. "But I didn't work last night, and I haven't heard anything. Maybe Tino knows."

Though he was probably not talking, being Tino and all.

"You don't say."

She put two fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle. Two Troopers appeared in the doorway.

"Take Tino down to the Station for questioning. Feel free to cuff if he resists."

"He's on the clock." Yeah, Kitty had no other reason why they couldn't take him. If he ended up in jail, that was why she had a bail fund...

On second thought they'd all probably be better on Monday. He could wait till Monday.

"Then you better punch him out," Vic said as she headed to the door.

And of course the troopers took that literally and started punching Tino in the face.

Which of course sent them into the duck pond.

"Idiots!" Vic grumbled as she started to haul Tino away.

"Let me know if I can be of any more help," Kitty said, though she totally figured she just might not answer her phone or door for a while.

Or get away, where you might be able to claim plausible deniability if things go wrong.

There's not even any illegal gambling going on back here whuuuuuut.

Because when you've already made the place a speakeasy once, you tend to wanna do something different.

Ahahah Bruce the Zombie! The troopers punching Tino and getting zapped to the duck pond!

I love this post like I love pie!

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Caritas- Saturday

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Bar

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