Need A Chaser?

Taptaptap-tippy-tap… A restless hoof beats a tattoo on the tile floors of the owner’s abode. By his count, Ivan has kept Chanti waiting almost 15 minutes, making the latter bun nearly mad with impatience. He peeks out his door and watches with despair as three more couples make their way to the inner city. To a better spot in the lines. Chanti groans and lets his head rest on the doorframe.

“IVAN! ARE YOU READY YET? WE’RE BURNIN’ CAVELIGHT HERE!” he hollers.

“Sorry!” comes the reply. “I’m almost done! I had to pick the best sweater for the occasion!”

Chanti sighs. There’s a good chance whatever sweater Ivan picked is going to get ruined by some unmentionable foodstuff dripping on it, so he’s not sure why Ivan even bothered considering his wardrobe.

Heavy thunks coming down the stairs announce his partner’s approach, causing Chanti to turn away from the door and see what the whole wait had been for. His jaw drops.

Ivan’s sweater is a green number with orange knitted writing on it, reading “I’M HERE FOR MY HUBBY” on the front with a small carrot by means of decoration. Ivan grins at Chanti’s expression. “Do you like it? I had it custom-made after last year’s food festival. Ooh ooh! Look what it says on the back!”

Oh god, there’s more?

Indeed. The phrase from the front is continued on the back. “HE LIKES ME CHUBBY” is the end of the saying, at which Chanti wheezes. 

Ivan giggles. “I know it’s silly, but when I thought of it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it! Do you like it?”

Chanti puts on a convincing smile. “It’s great, darlin’. It really makes you the center of attention.” Before Ivan can think too much about the implications of that, Chanti presses a kiss to Ivan’s cheek and takes his paw. “But anymore waitin’ around here an’ the food might be gone before we can even try any!”

Ivan agrees this is an unacceptable outcome and the two sprint paw-in-paw down the street to the square where the other buns have congregated.

Chanti’s first stop is getting something to loosen up. According to the food guide Ivan picked up, they’re spoiled for choice. The yellow bun has never met a drink he didn’t like, so he asks Ivan to pick where to go, seeing as Ivan is the foodie of the pair. The stand Ivan picks is pretty quiet. Alarmingly so. The approach of customers seems to fill the bun tending to the stand with such joy, Chanti feels a little bad for wanting to back away. The drink on offer is a Hot Chili Sour, made with chili liqueur, fermented grapefruit juice, and liquorice bitters.

Chanti is not widely known for his love of spicy foods, but upon glancing back, Ivan seems so earnest that Chanti has no choice but to hand over the requisite carats with a shaking paw. The drink he receives in return is distressingly large and has some previously-undisclosed… particulates floating in it.

“Um… excuse me, but… what are these specks?” he asks, finger pressed to his glass. The bun on duty looks unsure, then turns to the bun who actually mixed the drink. This bun takes a drag of their cigar and replies. “Wood ear fungus, chia seeds, and dark chocolate shavings.” The first bun grins. “There you have it. Enjoy!”

Chanti feels bile rise in his throat as he looks down into the drink, which has developed some sort of scummy layer on top. He almost sets it aside on a park bench as he passes by, but a voice in his heart pipes up. You call yourself an alcohol aficionado, but you’re not even going to try it?? You paid good carats for that drink! He has to admit, those are good points.

The yellow bun screws up his courage and with one paw holding his hat on his head, he tosses back the whole thing. What fills up his mouth is sour, bitter, and cold, flavors which if they were the only ones, he could handle. The spicy, sickly-sweet, sliminess which follows is what makes him spit it out into a nearby planter. Chanti coughs and hacks, trying to rid his mouth of the unpleasant lingering remnants.

A paw pats him on the back, and when he turns around to face the owner, Ivan is standing there with two pastries in hand. “Aww, not so good, huh? Yeah, after I saw what they garnished it with, it seemed like a bit much. Here, maybe this’ll be better."

Now a tad wary of Ivan’s judgment, Chanti reaches out and looks at the baked good. It seems innocent enough. He nibbles on it, and is pleasantly surprised. It’s flaky and warm with a creamy salty-sweet center.

“Hey, this isn’t bad! What is it?”

“A smoked coconut and sea salt pasty!” Ivan replies. “Thought you might need a palate cleanser after that drink. I never figured you’d actually try it, much less chug it!” Ivan giggles.

“Well, now ah know there’s at least one drink that doesn’t agree with me.” Chanti says weakly.

(856 words)