Kick Him Out

As much as you hate being a hard-ass rule-follower, this is your first night. You have bills to pay back home, and you're certainly not looking to be back on the job hunt. It's better to play this one safe.

You give a half-hearted shrug and gesture towards the door. "Look, you seem like a fine kid. But if I leave you here, it's my ass on the line, and I'm not getting fired for you to drink a quarter of a beer." You nudge the fox-boy up and out of the chair, before giving his shoulder a gentle little squeeze. "Just slip on out of here and I won't turn you in. I won't be so nice next time."

The ginger fox pauses for a minute and bites his lip, glaring at you. His eyes flash from the young innocent look, to a fiery anger. “Fuck off stupid ass!” And he puffs his way out from the bar. So much for a ‘fine kid’.

For a while you go on with your work it minding too much about the angry kid. But oh boy you should have. While tending one only stranger towards the back of the bar, a crew of young furs comes charging through the bar.

“Pack" is probably the better way to describe them. They're a whole band of rowdy boys, ranging from around young 18 age, to probably mid twenties, but nearly all of them look the same. Toned and tall, wearing one of a variety of jackass attire: letterman jackets, leather, too-tight jeans, and way, way too much cologne. The one at the head of the band is a hyena. Even with that forward-set head-position like some thug punk thinking high of themself, that many hyenas have, he still stands slightly above you in height. You set your jaw as he approaches you.

"This guy giving you trouble?" He barks at the fox-boy you kicked out, who’s following close behind now wearing the same jacket. He's growling audibly with every word, and stares you down with a vicious glare. The fox-boy paused for a moment, but then he nodded. Seems like the friends he mentioned have come through after all.

You glare right back at the hyena, but he continues to approach you, forcing you to take a step back. His growls reach a new volume. "I was hoping it would be you," he grunts. His muzzle is now half an inch from your own, and he practically spits little drops of saliva at you with each word. "See, my buddy caught a video of you earlier tonight. Slipping bottles out of the bar, right? Let me pull it up."

He pulls a phone out of his jacket's pocket, and then a video. And it is... incriminating? The video shows a bulky lion, snatching up a few bottles of booze before looking around suspiciously to see if anyone noticed. But it wasn’t you, it couldn’t be you.

The hyena before you cackles cruelly, his laughs permeating and rippling uncomfortably in your ears. "So I have the power. With this video, I could get you fired. Probably land you a nice fat fine with a half-decent cop. A night in jail, if they're feeling generous." He leans in more closely, pressing his narrow muzzle straight into your cheek. You wince, forcing yourself to breathe smoothly, even with his face right up in yours. "You're our bitch now. First things first, you're going to let our buddy drink here from now on." He waves his hand, and the fox nods nervously before turning and eagerly disappearing into the crowd.

Some of the other frat boys surround you, egging on the hyena. The douchebag in front of you smirks cruelly, and his eyes narrowed. "Here we go, dick." The hyena spits in your face again, and you wince and try to pull away. He grips your shoulder tightly, holding you in place. "You're going to snag us some booze. As much as you can carry. Then you're going to step into the back alley. Try to run, and it'll only get harder for you."

The hyena steps back, and waves his boys forward. They begin to filter out of the bar, one by one, and soon, you're left standing alone in the back, blinking your eyes and trying to piece together what just happened.