Ood on Deck

Short story first: I was in the neighborhood near the cafe I used to frequent almost every other day. It was to the point I would walk in and barely had to speak to anyone because they knew my order by heart.

My Coffee Lady: "Good morning! What flavor shot in your coffee?"

Me: "Morning! Hazelnut."

Best way to spend a morning. I don't like talking to people before 11am. And I think my coffee lady's name was Lynn.

Well, I walked in and my people were not there. There were actual tables set up for the full dine-in experience instead of couches. The chalkboard menu was gone. My Thanksgiving Day sandwich and my homemade pot roast were gone. My coffee lady who might have been named Lynn was gone. It was some woman that looked just as confused as I did because I stepped up to the counter like I owned the place.

Woman: "Can I help you?"

Me: ".....Can I get a coffee to go and what sort of hell portal did I step through?"

Woman: "Of course! Have you been here before?"

Me: "Yes, many moons ago. It's changed quite a lot. Why do you close at 2pm now instead of 7pm you demons?!"

It was under new management. The best way to describe my feelings of walking into this renovated hellscape was like if you were to wake up to find out your dog turned into a chicken.

So that was my day. My evening went a little something like this:

I know. I see it. TENTACLE*

^ I'm a little angry that this isn't a thing ^

I think the Ood would make terrific sailors.