The sound of cowboy western music greets Izzy and Jacob as they open the door to the bar. There are people scattered around the room, most wearing some form of cowboy outfit, and one person dressed as a young cow as he drinks his drink; the noise from a small cowbell around his neck is visibly driving another patron insane.

  Izzy wobbles and waddles to the bar and sits down, her insides feeling sore and stretched. She looks around for the cat, and he is nowhere to be found. She waits 20 seconds before the scariest thing Izzy has ever seen rises up from behind the bar.

  The cat is wearing a dusty-looking cowboy jacket and chaps. Under that faded bluejeans and on his head a wide leather hat. “Howdy folks, you’re a mite underdressed. Lemme help you with that,” he says in the worst cowboy accent anyone in the room will ever hear. It's so tragically bad it sounds like he is from New Zeand.

  “I have had a long day, Cat. What's with the get-up?” She says, ying her head in her arms.

  He reaches under the bar and pulls out two western-style hats. He plops a dignified leather hat on Izzy’s lowered head and a light pink version on Jacob’s head. “It’s Cow Folk Day,” he says.

  “What is a cow folk day?” Jacob asks, “Some sort of weird celebration of western movies?”

  “You better believe it, governor.” The cat says he feels nervous and is pretty sure that was an old English accent. “So what can I get you, fine cow folk? Snake bites and chop suey?” He feels more confident on his third try.

  “Yeah give us some snake bites and some chop suey, Cat,” Izzy gestures to Jacob and her.

  A woman with a western outfit sits next to Jacob. “Well, partner,” she says. Jacob turns and sees it's scarlet. “I think what we need to do is trade,” she pauses. “Unless I need to steal that hat from your lifeless body?”

  “What are you talking about?” Jacob starts to say but is cut off midword by the feeling of something poking him in the side. He looks down and it's a carrot, the humble weapon of rabbits everywhere.

  “It’s you, of course. We can trade hats, please.” Jacob responds, taking the pink hat off in exchange for a bck Stetson.

  He fits it on his head. “Now that's a hat,” he excims, starting to feel better about his day. He watched his girlfriend birth 7 alien eggs today and is unsure of what to do with the fact he found it hot and disturbing at the same time. Also the fact its not the first time she has id eggs while at the ranch. He snaps back to focus; a woman was just holding him at carrot point.

  She puts her carrot in her holster. Jacob looks to Izzy to see if she is sharing this ridiculous exchange, but she is gone. He looks under the bar stool like she is somehow hiding behind the brass rod that holds the seat up, but obviously she just wasn't there.

  “Missing someone, sweetie?” Scarlet says, her fingers tapping slowly on the bartop.

  “My girlfriend, she must be peeing or something. What brings you to these parts?” He looks her over. “She is dressed as a cowgirl from head to toe and not a pretty cowgirl but one who knows her way around mud.

  Scarlet is proud of her outfit; she based it on Lucille Mulhall and is loving Jacobs eyes scanning her body. She fluffs her hair with her fingers and smiles as he makes his way to her face.

  “Same as some of the other gals around,” she winks at him and runs her finger across the rim of her gss of snakebite. Her long, tapered red nails looked more like weapons than for beauty.

  “You work here? That makes sense. Where are you from?” He asks as Cat brings his and Izzy's order out, but instead of whiskey, there is a whiskey gss of milk for him.

  “Tulsi, Okhoma,” she says with a grin, “not worth the drive. What about you?”

  He smiles back, admiring her bright red lipstick; it matches her nails. “Back east coal country,” he states.

  “My name is Scarlet, but you know that what I don't know is your name,” she smirks at him.

  “Jacob and my girlfriend is Izzy,” he says, then adds, “I am pretty sure Cat hates me,” he then takes a sip of the milk and adds mournfully. “He just refused to give me alcohol.”

  “Cat knows things. If he doesn't give you alcohol, there is a reason,” she puts her hand on his. “Besides, it's probably for the best; this stuff will make you go blind, and then how will you ever stare at my breasts?” She ughs and finishes her whiskey. It burns all the way down.

  Jacob enters a state of panic. 'Izzy could come back any second, and Scarlet is clearly hitting on me. She has a way about her; it's almost hypnotic….no…fight…..resist.’ he thinks. He has an empiric victory and pulls his hand back. “Shit, now she is going to think I'm not interested. Wait, I am not interested, am I?’ He thinks to himself, the swirl of emotions making him as confused as the cat's accent.

  “Oh, hello, Scarlet, I see you and Jacob finally had a chance to get introduced,” Izzy says, having just returned from an adventure of trying to pee and not mess up the diaper she is wearing. It's not unpleasant to wear, and luckily she was wearing it; the blue alien pod has burst and is leaking its blue slime out as well as the leftover tentacle beast cum. She sighs to herself, Things are a mess down there right now.

  “This is Scarlett from Tulsi, Okhoma. She was at the pool yesterday. I keep running into her, and she is in a simir line of work as you,” Jacob says in a rush. Feeling guilty, he tries to py it cool, idly pying with his shirt colr.

  “We have met before, Jacob. Is that milk you ordered?” Izzy asks but is looking at Scarlet. Something is slightly off. Scarlet reaches over Jacob to shake Izzy's hand. She rests her other hand on Jacob's thigh, uncomfortably close to his penis.

  Izzy starts shaking Scarlett's hand, unaware that as she does and as they stare at each other, Scarlett's hand is stealthily moving towards Jacob's cock. They keep looking intently into each other's eyes as Jacobs breaks out into a sweat. The tension grows worse until Scarlet brushes his cock through his pants. And makes Jacob jump off the bar stool.

  Izzy ughs along with Scarlet. “Are you ok?” Izzy asks.

  “Yeah, I'm fine,” he replies in a rush, his cheeks red and his cock hard. He sits back down nervously, putting his hands over his erection, hoping no one notices, but unfortunately for him, Scarlet knows full well what he is hiding.

  Izzy sips her shot of whiskey and digs into the chop suey. Taking a break to ask Scarlet, “Any advice for the new girl?”

  “Take it slow and stay away from the minotaur.” Scarlet says, nursing a fresh whiskey and smiling, “Unless you have a death wish.”

  “What people die?” she asks, concerned, wondering what about the encounter is so deadly. Is it the size of his genitals? Is he aggressive? Or is the sex so mind-blowing it gives you a heart attack? She feels her heart race. ‘There is something wrong with me,’ she thinks to herself, squeezing her gss of whiskey.

  “They have in the past,” Scarlet responds. Matter of factly, she looks down at Jacob's erection a little disappointed. Jacob, unaware, sips his milk sadly and fills his mouth full of the chop suey.

  “What else can you tell me?” She asks excitedly, but before Scarlet can come up with something else, there is the unmistakable sound of Grups heavy frame entering the bar.

  Scarlet hears the sound and stands up. “Hey,” she calls out to him, “over here.” While she waits for him to navigate his way across the room, she leans into Jacob’s ear and whispers, “See you around, handsome,” then leaves to greet him, jumping up and putting her arms around his neck as he puts his arms under her thighs.

  “That was weird,” Izzy says. Drinking her whiskey, “A minotaur, huh?”

  “She seems nice,” Jacob says. “A bit insane but nice.”

  Izzy makes a scrunched nose shake of her head, no. And they both go back to eating while listening to the cat attempt his cowboy accent and fail at it.