FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Warning: The following story contains adult themes. ...Maybe.

Jonathan watched Azure run out of the battling arena, and high-fived Meadow.

"That was brilliant!" She said, hugging him.

"You were better!"

"Yeah, I was." She ran her hand through her dark-green hair, smiling.

"So, why would a beautiful Serperior like you be going to Unova?"

"Well, I'm going home. I was recently in Hoenn, as my cousin's bridesmaid."

"Interesting, what was she?"

"She was a Sceptile, she was marrying a Dragonite. Speaking of people's species, what in the name of Arceus is Rachel supposed to be?"

"Rachel's a hybrid, half-Squirrel, half-Skunk."

"Really? You know, there's a species similar to that in Sinnoh, just less powerful. Santank, Sentank..."

"Skuntank?" He offered.

"Yeah, that's it. One of the bridesmaids was a Skuntank, we hated her, she kept farting all through the ceremony. Thank Arceus that there wasn't an Infernape in that room!" She laughed, thinking of the explosion that it would create.

"Speaking of rooms..." Jonathan looked at the clock, then at Meadow. "You know, we've got a few hours left before we dock in Unova."

Meadow smiled. "We do. I was thinking that while we're here, you should come into my cabin, and breed with me."

Jonathan's left eye twitched, and so did something else. This was the first time he'd ever heard a girl call it "Breeding". Most women he met preferred to dance around the subject, using metaphors and euphemisms that ranged from the reasonable, to the tasteless. "Well," He began, "I think that would be a suitable use of our time."

"A suitable use of our time?" She kissed him deeply. "You're so indirect, so polite, I love that. Most guys prefer to just get straight to it, sometimes before getting to know me."

"Wait, do you mean-"

"Yes." She interrupted. "But don't worry, they never succeeded. I'm a grass-type, so they usually get a bit... tied up."

He chuckled, and ran his hands through her hair. "I'm sure they do."

She kissed him on the left side of his beak, then quickly tied a vine around it before he could kiss her back. She leaned over, and whispered "Save it for my bedroom." into where she guessed his ears would be. She held his hand, and led him out of the arena, and to her room. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, on the other side of the boat, Rachel strapped for cash. The only money she'd brought with her was the money she'd borrowed from Jonathan, and was supposed to spend on rent. It wasn't really enough to have a good time anyway, so she decided she needed a job.

There was an adult entertainment room somewhere on board, but they weren't hiring. They had enough Lopunnys and Gardevoirs to entertain the passengers, and Rachel wasn't really keen on getting back onto the stage anyway.

She decided for the next-best thing: Becoming a waitress.

Luckily for her, one of the waitresses was absent that day. She was hired purely because of her looks, but then again, who cares?

She "borrowed" a notepad and pen from one of the other waiters, and began taking customer's orders.

The table closest to her had a family of four. A Charmeleon, A Charizard, and two Charmanders sat at the table, slightly scorching the fake-wood chairs with their fiery tails.

She greeted the table with a smile. "Hi, my name is... Rosy, and I'll be taking your order tonight." She decided to use her online name for this job, so that nobody could complain to the manager about her. The manager was a Noctowl, and he seemed to be some sort of antisocial psychopath, only interested in making money, and willing to do anything to anyone to get it.

The husband, a Charizard, laughed. "Night? It's two in the afternoon!"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I know, it's just what I'm supposed to say."

The manager was watching her every move. He cleared his throat loudly, reminding her to smile.

Rachel forced a smile. "What can I get you?"

The family began reading the menu.

"So, we'll have two extra-large burning burgers, extra mayo." He said, his voice deep and commanding.

Rachel clicked her pen, and wrote that down on her notepad.

The charmeleon put her hand on his arm. "No, honey, you know mayo doesn't agree with you!" Her voice was high, screechy, and extremely annoying. Rachel had always hated brooklyn accents, and this woman was giving her hatred even more justification.

"Sorry, dear." His tone didn't change, and he sounded as if he was some sort of bad Shakespearean actor reading from a script he'd only just read. "No mayo."

Rachel crossed out the "extra mayo", and wrote "No mayo" just above it.

The wife kept moaning. "You know what it does to you? You know what it does!" She looked at Rachel, and said "You wanna know what mayo does to this man? It gives him diarrhea!"

The children laughed like annoying brats. Possibly because, in Rachel's eyes, they were annoying brats.

"Give this man a salad!" She shouted to her.

Rachel wanted to fight this woman, but she needed this job. She crossed out everything she'd written so far, and wrote "SALAD" under it.

"Honey, I've been great all year. I've cut down on meat, I haven't eaten any dairy, and I've lost three stone!"

"Yeah, Right." Rachel thought. From the looks of this terribly overweight man, she thought three stone meant nothing to him. He probably couldn't even fly, despite having those absurd-looking wings.

The wife started moaning again, louder. "Honey, you can't just eat everything you want. Four salads, now!"

The kids whined and moaned, without using actual words. Just annoying sounds that made Rachel want to drop-kick the both of them overboard.

"Honey, I'm on vacation, let me LIVE A LITTLE! Give me an extra-large double-meat burning burger!" He shouted.

The children started crying loudly. Rachel wrote down his order.

"We are ALL on vacation! ALL OF US! SALADS!"

Rachel wrote down her order, as well.

Nobody was paying any attention to the children, so they started crying louder.

"I hate salads!"

"I hate you!"

One of the kids threw their spoon at Rachel, hitting her on the forehead.

"Control your children, please!" She shouted, getting angry.

"Don't tell us how to raise our children!" The Charizard bellowed.

The Charmeleon patted one of the Charmanders on the head. "Now now, feel free to throw spoons at as many foreigners as you'd like."

Rachel snarled, but stopped when she felt her manager staring at her. Rachel smiled, and she felt the staring stop. The Noctowl might be psychic-type, she just wasn't sure.

Rachel's smile changed, showing off her vicious, sharp, perfectly clean teeth in a way that was neither friendly nor reassuring. Instead, it showed insanity, hatred, and pent-up rage and agression. She glared at them all with dangerous eyes, hard from evil deeds and unspeakable horrors.

"Now." She growled. "What. Can. I. Get. You."

"We'll take four salads?" The husband offered weakly.

"Thank you for your visit." She said, as she left the table.

She stopped suddenly, and turned.

"I know where your family is staying." She threatened as she put down an empty jar clearly labeled "TIP JAR" on the table.

"Feel free to tip." She grunted, as she left to get the salads. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rachel later returned to the table, holding four bowls of salad, and an extra large double-meat burning burger. All of the meals had extra mayo on them, it was a little "present" for that family.

However, when she got back to the table, the family had left, and the tip jar was full of $20 bills.

She took her tip jar back, and smiled genuinely for the first time since she'd started her job.

"Looks like this will be better than I thought!"

Her manager suddenly landed beside her. "Where are the customers." He said, his voice as serious as his facial expression.

"Well, Sir, I think they left without paying." She said, placing the food on a different table so that he wouldn't see it.

"Interesting." He got out his phone, and started texting someone.

"You see, Sir, all of the money in this jar is my tip."

"Correct. I watched you, to see if you would put all of the money in your jar. You did not. Congratulations, Rosy. You may keep your job."

"Thank you, Sir!" She said, smiling and bowing respectfully. For some reason, her manager enjoyed people bowing to him. "So, Sir, who are you texting?"

"Someone who can get me my money." He said ominously, then disappeared.

"That guy is so creepy. But, he's my boss. For now, anyway." She thought, as a sly grin formed on her face, as she binned the food, and started counting the money in the tip jar.