FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Harper adjusted his tie one final time using the reflection of his limo's window as a makeshift mirror. Once he was satisfied everything was perfect, he turned his attention back to the two imps accompanying him.

Blitzø bounced happily in the seat beside the Overlord. He'd opted to wear a frilly pink and magenta dress, hoop earrings, and a long, voluminous blonde wig held together by a pink barrette. According to the imp, he had worn it as a disguise to some place called "Lover's Lookout," and it had since become a favorite.

On the seat across from the couple sat Drek in his usual suit and tie. One leg was crossed over the other, his arms were folded, and his jaw was set into a stern frown.

"Mr. Harper," said the valet, "Could you remind me why I was required to accompany you, please?"

Harper briefly adjusted the carnation pinned to his lapel before responding. "Because, Drek, no personal electronics are allowed inside Club Faustus. I need you to stay with the car and monitor my business lines. If something urgent comes up, I will need you to come in and fetch me as quickly as possible."

He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Not to mention that the parking lot will be an attractive target for thieves. As ample as the club's security is, it never hurts to have my deadliest bodyguard providing additional security for my car."

"You said it, Harps!" Blitzø butted in, "Seriously, Drek's the most useful minion ya got on your payroll. Got a bit of a stick up his ass though. No sense of humor either. Actually, he's a lot like Moxxie, only way gayer."

Drek grunted indignantly. "First of all, Mr. Blitzø, I am sitting right here and can hear you. Second of all, I have a wife and multiple children, whereas you are in an intimate relationship with another man!"

"Pfffffffft!" snorted the larger imp as he turned to Drek, "You really think where you stick your dick says how gay you are? Nahhhhh nah nah nah. Straight and gay are states of mind and spiritual being, sis! And you? You're incredibly, flamboyantly gay."

The impish valet spluttered. "What??? That doesn't even make any sense!"

"Can't talk right now. Doing hot girl shit," replied Blitzø. He produced a compact case from his little red purse and set about touching up his makeup.

Harper smiled and put his arm around the imp, who leaned into him with a soft purr. Drek only shook his head with a quiet scoff. "I can assure you that I'm straight, Mr. Blitzø."

The crossdressed imp blew a raspberry. "Heh, yeah. You're about as straight as my spine when Harper's done with it. OHHHHHHHH!" He held out his hand for a high-five, which Drek ignored.

"Not one for giving five, huh? How about tailtips?" Blitzø got out of his seat, hiked up his skirt and bent over. He waved his tail over Drek invitingly as his lace-clad booty swayed back and forth. "Course, if you just wanna look at my ass, that's fine too~."

Drek growled and turned to look out the window. Harper took this as his cue to step in.

"Blitzø, darling, as amusing as this is, let's allow my valet to focus on his work, hm?"

The imp smirked and wriggled forward until he was straddling the dragon's lap. "Sure thing, hot stuff!" he said, "Shit, never thought I'd be excited to be going on a date with somebody."

"Well, I'm not exactly just a 'somebody,' now am I?" the Overlord observed.

Grinning, Blitzø cupped Harper's cheeks and gently bumped foreheads with him. "Hey, I know we're not supposed to fuck 'til everything's square with the fam, but d'ya think we can fool around a bit tonight? It's our anniversary after all."

Harper smiled and reached out to squeeze the imp's lean rump. Blitzø growled playfully and pushed back against his hand.

"Well, it is a special occasion," said the Overlord, "And you have been a good boy... Once we have returned from dinner, we can have a special treat for dessert~."

"Fuck yeah, that's what I'm talking about," Blitzø purred, "Looking forward to some quality time with Daddy~." His lips met the dragon's in a fierce kiss. Suddenly, the imp broke away and turned to deliver a quick "No homo!" to Drek, before he returned to locking lips. The valet only rolled his eyes and went back to staring out the window.

The limo pulled up to the front entrance of Club Faustus a moment later. Just as well, as Harper didn't know if he'd be able to resist letting Blitzø escalate their makeout session for much longer. He gently pushed the crossdressed imp back and slid him off his lap to get out. He stood at attention as his date emerged, and gently took his hand to lead him inside.

Unbeknownst to the arriving party, an observer watched from a distance. The animate shadow watched from a corner of the building as Harper and Blitzø made their way up the front steps and the limo pulled into the attached parking lot. It slithered along the masonry toward the back of the building, where a certain Radio Demon stood idly humming a merry but eerie tune.

"You're on the air in five," Alastor's shadow whispered in his ear.

"Splendid!" replied Alastor, "I'll make sure my studio is ready."

He chuckled darkly as he twirled his microphone cane and approached a service door into the restaurant. With a silent gesture, he directed the shadow to slip into the crack. The door unlocked and swung open seconds later, and the Radio Demon slipped inside. Muffled screams could be heard from within, followed by silence.

Harper glanced up from his menu at his impish lover, who was hunched over the table from his perch atop the stack of phone books precariously balanced on his chair. Blitzø's brows were furrowed, and his tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated intently on the playmat below him. Slowly and deliberately, he traced a path through the winding maze that took up its center with his trusty blue crayon.

"Almost got it. Almost..." Blitzø mumbled. Suddenly, his crayon ran into a dead end. "Oh FUCKING shit!" he yelled, causing more than a few of the other restaurant patrons to look in his direction. Blitzø didn't seem to notice as he angrily crumpled up the playmat and tossed it over his shoulder.

Harper struggled to suppress his laughter as Blitzø snapped his fingers over his head to summon a waiter. Despite feigning nonchalance, the Overlord had been passively observing reactions to him and his date ever since he'd sat down. There were of course the usual glances of curiosity and confusion. There were a few who scoffed in contempt, and one couple even requested a new table further away from them. Regrettable, but it was to be expected. So far, the majority reaction had been quiet toleration. It was a promising start.

Blitzø snapped his fingers again, and frowned when the waiter didn't appear. "The fuck did that asswipe go? I need another playmat!" he said, and gestured to the crumpled paper balls gathering around and behind his chair.

"Hmm, now that you mention it, our server has been away for some time," Harper agreed as he looked around. The well-groomed Hellhound that had been assigned to their table was nowhere to be seen.

"Yeah, yeah, hold yer horses, I'm comin'," said a gruff voice to his right. Overlord and imp looked over to see a Sinner slouch his way up to their table. Harper's eyes narrowed as he regarded the gray tuxedo cat demon, who was rather underdressed in a simple top hat, bowtie, and apron. The card suits decorating the primary feathers on his red and black wings would have made him more at home in a casino than an upscale dinner club. Come to think of it, he seemed familiar...

"Name's Husk. I'm gonna be yer fuckin'...yeah..." slurred the cat. He swayed slightly as he fumbled for the notepad in his apron pocket.

Harper wrinkled his nose in revulsion. Not only did this man look intoxicated, but he reeked of cheap liquor. "Excuse me, Husk, but what happened to the Hellhound that was to be our server?" he asked.

"Gave 'em a break. Don't worry 'bout it," Husk grunted as he finally got ahold of his notepad. "Aight, what can I getcha?"

The Overlord shook his head. Needless to say he'd be having a word with the owner before he left. For now, he focused his attention on the wine menu, which had accumulated a few crude pony doodles over the past few minutes. "Yes, I think we will start off with a bottle of Chardonnay, please. From the Gluttony Circle if possible. As for my entrée, hmm...What does the chef recommend?"

Husk snorted, then spat off to the side. "We got a special on the jambalaya tonight."

"Very well. I shall have the special," Harper concluded after some hesitation. He turned to look at Blitzø. "What about you dear? What would you like?"

The imp drew himself up to his full height and held up his index finger at Husk. "I will have a Travis Scott burger!" he declared with all the authority he could muster, "One Travis Scott burger, please!"

Everyone at the table fell silent for several seconds. Finally, Husk spoke first. "The fuck is a Travis Scott burger?"

"Um, excuse you it's only the best cheeseburger ever made!" Blitzø snapped, "What kind of dumbass doesn't know about the Travis Scott burger???"

Husk growled and gripped his notepad tighter. "The kind of dumbass who actually eats food, you tasteless fuckin' fruit."

"No homo!" retorted the imp.

In a bid to defuse the situation, Harper reached out and clasped his hand over Blitzø's. "Blitzø, they clearly do not have this 'Travis Scott burger' on their menu. I suggest ordering something they do have."

The imp huffed and sat back in his seat with a pouty lip. "Fiiiiiiiine," he groaned as he snatched up his menu, which was also covered in horse doodles. "Lessee here...Okay, I'll take the chicken nuggets with a side of mac n' cheese, and a hot chocolate." He turned his menu over to Husk. "And Satan help you if those nuggets aren't dino-shaped!"

"Yeah whatever, chickie nuggies for the freakshow, and jambalaya for the Build-a-Bear. Got it," said the cat demon, seemingly oblivious to the way that Harper quietly simmered in his seat. At the very least one would think he'd notice the sudden increase in temperature at the table.

"That's Builder Baron to you!" Blitzø corrected Husk.

"'Mr. Harper' will do just fine," said the Overlord. Keeping a growl out of his voice was becoming a challenge. Yes, he would be having some very strong, choice words with the owner after dinner.

"Whatever. Anyways, Niffty will get your water and your charred-dummy or whatever you rich fucks call it," Husk concluded as he put his notepad away and sauntered off. Behind the cat demon, Harper's fingers gripped the tablecloth, which charred and began to burn away in his grasp.

"And gimme another playmat while you're at it!" Blitzø called after him.

A crackling hiss not unlike what one would hear while tuning a dial accompanied the haunting tune Alastor hummed to himself as he swiftly and precisely chopped some freshly-cooked sausages to add to the simmering pan of jambalaya on the stove. Normally it would be a small miracle to get them made and smoked on such short notice, but his powers - and the generous contribution of the late kitchen staff - made such challenges trivial.

*"Ah, Husker!" * Alastor crooned without turning around as the cat demon walked in, *"I trust our esteemed guest is finished preheating?" * Canned laughter erupted from the microphone cane propped against the counter.

"Hang on a sec," mumbled Husk. He moved back to the kitchen door and leaned against it to peek out the crack. "Yup, he's pissed off. Got him to order the jambalaya too." The cat demon returned to Alastor's side and handed him his notepad.

"Splendid!" the Radio Demon cheered, "I shall have their orders ready in two shakes of a lamb's tail." He looked over his shoulder to where a petite one-eyed woman was enthusiastically mopping the last puddles of blood off the floor. "Niffty dear, would you kindly fetch Lord Harper and his paramour their drinks, please?"

As the little cyclops scurried off to the wine cellar, Husk fished out his emergency flask and took a long pull from it. He stood on tiptoes to inspect the sizzling pan of jambalaya. "So, uh, you gonna put the surprise in there?"

There was a burst of static as Alastor loudly scoffed, and placed his hand over his chest with a wounded expression. "Why Husker, perish the thought! I wouldn't dream of sullying my dear mother's good name by using her recipe for entertainment purposes!" ** He paused to drop a basket of carefully shaped and battered pieces of chicken into the deep fryer. **"No, the surprise will come later. Now, wait here until the food is ready."

Husk grumbled something unintelligible and shuffled over to the nearest chair, still nursing his flask.

"...and then his head straight up popped like a rotten grape! Sprayed his brains all over the door of the decompression chamber. How's that for an occupational safety hazard?" Blitzø finished with a cackle.

Harper chuckled along from across the table. "A most fitting end for an oil platform inspector. I must say I'm much obliged for the work you do in the Living World. My surviving businesses up there can only do so much with lobbying and bribes alone. This 'OSHA' has been a thorn in their sides for too long."

"I know, right? If you got some extra cash to burn, we can pop off a few of those EPA pricks for you too. We killed those guys for Stolas all the time!" the imp said with a smirk.

Harper smiled and shook his head. "I appreciate your initiative, dear, but I don't think it will be necessary. Word among some of the newly arrived Sinners is that their Supreme Court will take care of them soon enough."

"My way is more fun," groused the imp. Though he didn't say as much, Harper was inclined to agree.

Suddenly, a red and white blur flashed past their table. As imp and Overlord looked to one side of the table, the blur came to a halt on the other. With supernatural speed, the little cyclops demon poured out two glasses of water and placed a bottle of wine on the table with a pair of glasses. Harper had scarcely blinked before she was standing on the table with a corkscrew.

"Brought the drinks!" she cheerfully squeaked. As she turned to uncork the bottle, she noticed the large dragon demon watching her with mild concern. That concern intensified when she drew out a long, obnoxiously loud gasp that lasted several seconds.

"A MAN!" she exclaimed. Bottle of Chardonnay and corkscrew forgotten, she flopped down on her tummy right on the table in front of Harper, cheeks propped up by her elbows and her feet kicking excitedly behind her. "Hey there~" she cooed.

"Er..." Harper said, "Are you alright Miss?"

"I'm feeling incredible now that you're here~" Niffty said, "You got a girlfriend, big guy?"

Harper frowned in concern and annoyance. "No, I do not. I have-"

"Do you want one?" the cyclops continued, her grin spreading so wide it almost split her head.

Behind her, Blitzø stood up on his precarious pile of phonebooks. "Hey! Back the fuck up, whore. He's mine !"

With a sickening crunch, Niffty's head rotated 180 degrees. Her eye drilled straight through the startled imp as her head limply fell to one side. That freakish grin never left her face. "I'll cut you, bitch!" she cheerfully informed him.

"Ohhhh HELL no!" snarled the imp. He began fumbling in his dress, presumably for his pistol.

Before Blitzø could cause an even bigger scene, Harper reached out and grabbed Niffty by the scruff of her neck and hoisted her off the table. The little Sinner returned her attention to the dragon demon, eye lidded seductively. "Ooooooh, you like it rough, huh?" she said with a giggle.

Harper ignored her remark and got out of his seat. He carried her across the dining room to the trash can outside the restrooms. After removing the domed cover, he unceremoniously dumped Niffty inside.

"We do not require your services any longer," he snapped, then slammed the lid closed over her head. That taken care of, he returned to his seat. "Now, where were we?" he asked Blitzø.

The imp sat back down as he pondered where they'd left off. Eventually he gave up and changed the subject. "So I checked out that Econ book you gave me," he said, "Some heavy shit in there. Interesting though!"

The Overlord smiled warmly. "Excellent! I hope that you are learning plenty about keeping a good business."

Blitzø nodded in agreement. "Yeah, though I'm a little confused though. What's with all the mushrooms?"

"Mushrooms, darling?" Harper asked as he finished uncorking the bottle and began to pour out the Chardonnay.

"Yeah, the book makes a big deal out of them. Keeps going on about 'fungusability.'"

Before Harper finished processing what Blitzø said, Husk returned with a tray full of plates. "Aight, here's your food. Bone apple tea," he grunted as he set a steaming plate of jambalaya down in front of the Overlord, and a smaller plate of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, a bowl of bright yellow macaroni and cheese, and a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of the imp. Thankfully, the Sinner did not stick around, and was gone as quickly as he'd arrived.

The dragon demon took a moment to sample his meal as he thought about how to correct his boyfriend. His eyes widened. Truly the chef was at the top of his game tonight! He made an appreciative noise as he took another bite. The food alone might make up for the terrible service.

"Blitzø," he said after some time, "I think the book is saying 'fungibility.' That's when items are assigned the same value and can be used interchangeably. Money is a good example. I can pay for this meal with any of the hundred-Soul notes in my wallet, instead of one note in particular."

The imp mulled this over as he dipped a nugget in a generous amount of ketchup. "That makes sense, I guess. I was wondering whether my tokens being - what's the word? Non-fungible, that's it. Was wondering if that meant I could only use them to buy drugs or some shit."

Harper tilted his head. "Non-fungible tokens? I can't say I've heard of them."

Blitzø grinned wide. "Well then let your boy tell you all about NFTs," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

While the demonic couple dined, the Radio Demon was not idle. Though they hadn't ordered it, Alastor was already preparing a dessert for them. Husk walked in just as he was pouring dark brown batter into a cake pan.

"Husker! Perfect timing, my feline friend," called the cervine Overlord, "I was just putting their surprise in the oven."

"Uh huh, cool cool," Husker droned as he took another pull from his flask. "Whatcha gonna do to it?"

Alastor grinned as he produced a small, opaque bottle from his coat and held it up. "I'd hoped that you and Niffty would have been able to provoke a more colorful response from Harper. Unfortunately, he seems to have taken a few lessons in anger management since we last met. Thus, I have brought out the 'big guns,' so to speak."

He turned the bottle over in his hands. "This poison might not be able to kill an Overlord, but the ** intense ***reaction it will cause will humiliate him in front of Hell's high society."*

The Radio Demon handed the bottle over to Husk, who reluctantly accepted it. "You will serve them dessert for free, as an apology for the less than excellent service they received tonight. Once the cake is plated, pour the contents of this bottle onto Harper's slice. I have some business to attend to once the cake is finished, but I trust you will be able to handle this."

Husk sighed as he pocketed the bottle. "Sure thing, Al. It'll be funny watching an Overlord puke at least."

"That's the spirit!" Alastor cheered as he threw the cake pan in the oven. "Now, if you would be so kind as to retrieve Niffty from the trash bin?"

Harper quietly listened as his boyfriend pitched "NFTs" to him while they ate. As he cleaned his plate, he pondered a discreet way to slip his headache powder into his glass of water and drink it.

"So assuming I understand correctly," said the Overlord, "You spent tens of thousands of Souls on a digital image of a profoundly ugly cartoon horse," he gestured to the hideous caricature still displayed on Blitzø's phone, "and expect to sell it for hundreds of thousands of Souls, when anyone can just as easily copy and save the image for themselves?"

"No, no, no, Harps, you're missing the point," Blitzø insisted, "This is about the next level of investment and private property! No amount of right-clicking can take away the fact that I own this Posh Pony, because I own the token that was minted for it. It's a unique digital code that says the Posh Pony belongs to me, and it's posted on the decentralized blockchain!"

Harper took that moment to slip the powder into his water and stir it in. Thankfully the imp didn't seem to notice. He wondered whether Blitzø understood even half of the buzzwords he just used, or he was just parroting what the crook who sold the picture to him said. "Blitzø, when you've been in business for as long as I have, you come to recognize financial schemes."

"That's right!" said Blitzø, "And it's a good thing I know when I'm getting fleeced. I'll be sure to buy you something nice once I've resold this handsome motherfucker." The imp fawned affectionately over his poorly drawn prize. Harper only shook his head and drained his glass.

Thankfully, they were interrupted once again by their unprofessional replacement waiter. Husk was carrying a tray with two more plates on them.

"We didn't order dessert," Harper protested.

"Yeah, yeah we know. We're giving it to ya's on the house," Husk said, "The boss says it's because I was rude to you, he's really sorry, and I'm in big trouble. Something like that." As the winged cat demon moved to put the plates on the table, he hesitated. "Shit," he muttered under his breath as he indecisively reached for one, then the other. Finally he grabbed one plate and put it before Harper, then he placed the other in front of Blitzø.

"Ah, it's good to know that your supervisor is aware," said the Overlord. "Be that as it may, tell him I wish to speak with him directly."

"Sure thing," Husk muttered as he walked off.

Harper narrowed his eyes at the departing Sinner, then turned his attention to the dessert he'd left them. His expression brightened. "Ah, I know what this is. It's a chocolate potato cake!" He happily took up his dessert fork and dug in. "I was first introduced to this later in my mortal life."

Blitzø eyed the dessert warily. "I mean it looks good, but it's made of potatoes? That's kinda weird."

Harper nodded. No use talking with his mouth full. "Give it a try, Blitzø," he said after he'd swallowed, "I know you'll love it."

"Well I did say I'd try anything once," said the imp. He scooted his chair back in and grabbed his fork. Harper watched with a degree of self-satisfaction as the imp's eyes lit up after the first bite.

Blitzø glared down at the cake and pointed accusingly at it. "Okay what the fuck? You're not supposed to work!" he declared, "Potatoes. Don't. Belong. In. Cake. And. Shouldn't. Taste. Good." He aggressively poked at the offending confection with his fork with each word.

"And yet it tastes good all the same," the dragon demon observed with a wry smile.

"Yes..." Blitzø said with a sigh of defeat, "But I'm not happy about it!"

The two demons enjoyed their surprise dessert in silence. Harper took the time to reflect on how their dinner date had gone. The service had been terrible, but at least the food had arrived on time and been delicious. As always he enjoyed Blitzø's company (digital Ponzi scheme notwithstanding), and the public reaction to an Overlord being seen with an imp hadn't caused that much of a stir.

In all, this date had been a success, and the two of them would be able to get some intimacy in before the night was out provided they left soon. At least, that's what Harper thought at first.

The first sign of trouble was just how quiet Blitzø had become. He slowly put his fork down, eyes locked on the last bit of cake on his plate. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead.

Harper was about to ask him if something was wrong, but then he heard the loud, visceral gurgling sound coming from the imp.

"Nghh, oh God," Blitzø groaned, "I don't feel good." He wobbled then slid down off his chair. "No," he clutched at his stomach and started to stagger toward the restroom. "No. No no no no no no-!" His voice hitched and he fell on his hands and knees.

The Overlord swiftly left his seat and stooped down beside the imp. "Blitzø darling, what's happened?" He reached out to help him up. That was the moment when all Hell broke loose.

The instant Harper turned Blitzø over, the imp gagged, and his dinner exploded out of him violently and all at once. Half-digested pasta, chicken, and cake drenched the Overlord's evening wear. Blitzø heaved again, sending another wave onto his boyfriend.

As the imp fell to the floor and curled up into a quivering ball, Harper rested his hand on his cheek. Blitzø was burning up. Ignoring the mess that had been made of his suit and the commotion erupting from the restaurant patrons around him, he stood and returned to the table. Taking the last morsel of the imp's cake, Harper sniffed it. Although it was faint, there was a distinct chemical odor to it, imperceptible to someone without a keen sense of smell.

Though Harper was no toxicologist, he knew something had been added that didn't belong. He scowled as he heard Blitzø retch behind him, followed by the reactions of disgust from onlookers. Damn prudes act like they haven't seen and done worse down here, he thought.

He was just about to turn towards the door when he saw Drek weaving around tables and headed toward him. "You've read my mind, Drek," he said with a curt nod of approval.

"I saw people leaving in a hurry, and figured there might be trouble," said the valet. He paused to look at Blitzø. "By Lucifer, what happened?"

"That is something I intend to get to the bottom of," Harper grimly replied. He looked at Blitzø, then back to Drek. "Take him back to my house. Contact Dr. Pestis and tell her it's urgent. If that tainted slice was meant for me, we won't know how much danger Blitzø is in until she gets a look at him."

The valet imp didn't waste time hoisting the crossdressed and still heaving Blitzø over one shoulder in a fireman's carry. Fortunately, most of Hell's upper crust gave both of them a wide berth as Drek made his way out of the restaurant.

With that taken care of, Harper squared his shoulders and marched straight back toward the kitchen. Several irate customers were clustered around the door, but they soon parted as the vomit-covered dragon approached. The frightened maitre d'hotel tensed upon many angry customers giving way to one even angrier Overlord.

"Where is the chef?" Harper demanded. His eyes glowed like live embers, and steam poured from under his collar and cuffs.

"W-we don't know, sir! Apparently nobody has been receiving their orders for almost an hour now, and the kitchen is deserted!" stammered the rattled attendant.

Harper roughly pushed past the frightened hellborn employee and stormed into the kitchen. True to the matre d'hotel's word, there wasn't a single demon present. All the dishes had even been washed and put away, and the kitchen surfaces cleaned spotless.

Just as Harper was about to turn and leave, something moved out of the corner of his eye. He swung around just in time to catch a humanoid shadow slithering off through a crack in the door. The Overlord's eyes narrowed as he returned to the dining room.

If Stolas wanted to play games, so be it. But hurting his lover would not stand.