old tea kettle? Frankie picked at one tattered corner of the paper and lifted it carefully. The paper crackled as he pulled at it and crumbled to dust beneath his fingers. Well, that was a little weird. Even if the paper was old it shouldn't have turned to dust like that, should it?
The weirdness didn't end there, not by a long shot. Once the paper was off, the tea kettle trembled and with what sounded like a sneeze, it hopped out of Frankie's hands and fell on to the floor.
"What the hell?" Frankie blinked at his empty hands in disbelief. The tea kettle did not just sneeze and jump out of his hands. Did it? No, of course not, tea kettles did not move or sneeze for that matter. It had to be his brain playing tricks on him.
Maybe it was the stress. It was either that, or he was going crazy. Frankie sighed and hoped it was the stress. Ending up in a mental ward would have been a shitty way to end the week.
"Ouch..." There was a puff of green-gray smoke and once that cleared, there was some sort of animal standing there on its hind legs, rubbing its head with one furry, chocolate brown paw.
It looked like a cross between a raccoon and a dog, with dark brown fur and a bushy striped tail and was about eye level with the arm of the couch. At least it was cute, whatever it was. Frankie shook his head. The thing talked too. Yeah, he was going crazy all right.
Two big brown eyes glanced up at Frankie and, before he could do anything the dog-raccoon thing jumped up like it was trying to tackle him to the couch, not that it worked. It didn't have enough weight or mass to push Frankie over, so it ended up sort of wrapped around Frankie's chest with its furry, little arms clinging to his neck.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" The dog-raccoon thing licked at Frankie's face excitedly. "I thought I'd never be free of that stupid ward."
Frankie pushed the thing off him. He was in no mood for a tongue bath, especially from some weird talking animal or figment of his imagination, whichever this happened to be. "Get off me!"
"Sorry..." The thing picked itself off the floor and hopped up onto the coffee table. It glanced at him timidly, which made Frankie feel like he just kicked a puppy. "I was just
excited that's all. You don't know what it's like, being stuck as a tea kettle for almost two hundred years."
"It's oka—Wait, what?"
"I'm a tanuki ... a raccoon-dog, I guess you'd call me.
We're shapeshifters and tricksters ... but only sometimes." "Ah, like kitsune." Frankie nodded. Okay, maybe he wasn't
crazy after all. He knew about shifters. Hell, most of the crew at The Body Shop knew about them, well, kitsune at least. It was pretty common knowledge that Itsuki, one of the bouncers, was one and Itsuki was a well-spring of information, especially about werefoxes.
The tanuki looked vaguely insulted. "I'm more than some silly fox. We tanuki can change into almost anything. Kitsune, on the other hand, only have their fox and human forms."
"Oh..."
"How do you know about kitsune, anyway?" The tanuki cocked its—his—head to one side. It was easy to tell by its voice that the tanuki was male. The furry set of balls that hung between the tanuki's legs made it pretty obvious too. "I didn't think they ventured this far west."
"I work with one, actually." Frankie raked his hand through his hair and sighed. "He's from Japan originally, though."
"Interesting..." The tanuki stretched and shook out its bushy tail. "Oh, it feels good to be myself again."
"How did you get stuck as a tea kettle for so long?"
"I ran into a demon hunter who couldn't take a joke, that's how."
"What?"
"We tanuki enjoy playing jokes on people, especially ones who take themselves too seriously. We can't help it. It's part of our nature, really." The tanuki hopped up and sat down cross-legged on Frankie's coffee table. "Anyway, there was this demon hunter ... First, I pretended to be an oni and I swear he chased me across half of Japan. Then when he was
The weirdness didn't end there, not by a long shot. Once the paper was off, the tea kettle trembled and with what sounded like a sneeze, it hopped out of Frankie's hands and fell on to the floor.
"What the hell?" Frankie blinked at his empty hands in disbelief. The tea kettle did not just sneeze and jump out of his hands. Did it? No, of course not, tea kettles did not move or sneeze for that matter. It had to be his brain playing tricks on him.
Maybe it was the stress. It was either that, or he was going crazy. Frankie sighed and hoped it was the stress. Ending up in a mental ward would have been a shitty way to end the week.
"Ouch..." There was a puff of green-gray smoke and once that cleared, there was some sort of animal standing there on its hind legs, rubbing its head with one furry, chocolate brown paw.
It looked like a cross between a raccoon and a dog, with dark brown fur and a bushy striped tail and was about eye level with the arm of the couch. At least it was cute, whatever it was. Frankie shook his head. The thing talked too. Yeah, he was going crazy all right.
Two big brown eyes glanced up at Frankie and, before he could do anything the dog-raccoon thing jumped up like it was trying to tackle him to the couch, not that it worked. It didn't have enough weight or mass to push Frankie over, so it ended up sort of wrapped around Frankie's chest with its furry, little arms clinging to his neck.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" The dog-raccoon thing licked at Frankie's face excitedly. "I thought I'd never be free of that stupid ward."
Frankie pushed the thing off him. He was in no mood for a tongue bath, especially from some weird talking animal or figment of his imagination, whichever this happened to be. "Get off me!"
"Sorry..." The thing picked itself off the floor and hopped up onto the coffee table. It glanced at him timidly, which made Frankie feel like he just kicked a puppy. "I was just
excited that's all. You don't know what it's like, being stuck as a tea kettle for almost two hundred years."
"It's oka—Wait, what?"
"I'm a tanuki ... a raccoon-dog, I guess you'd call me.
We're shapeshifters and tricksters ... but only sometimes." "Ah, like kitsune." Frankie nodded. Okay, maybe he wasn't
crazy after all. He knew about shifters. Hell, most of the crew at The Body Shop knew about them, well, kitsune at least. It was pretty common knowledge that Itsuki, one of the bouncers, was one and Itsuki was a well-spring of information, especially about werefoxes.
The tanuki looked vaguely insulted. "I'm more than some silly fox. We tanuki can change into almost anything. Kitsune, on the other hand, only have their fox and human forms."
"Oh..."
"How do you know about kitsune, anyway?" The tanuki cocked its—his—head to one side. It was easy to tell by its voice that the tanuki was male. The furry set of balls that hung between the tanuki's legs made it pretty obvious too. "I didn't think they ventured this far west."
"I work with one, actually." Frankie raked his hand through his hair and sighed. "He's from Japan originally, though."
"Interesting..." The tanuki stretched and shook out its bushy tail. "Oh, it feels good to be myself again."
"How did you get stuck as a tea kettle for so long?"
"I ran into a demon hunter who couldn't take a joke, that's how."
"What?"
"We tanuki enjoy playing jokes on people, especially ones who take themselves too seriously. We can't help it. It's part of our nature, really." The tanuki hopped up and sat down cross-legged on Frankie's coffee table. "Anyway, there was this demon hunter ... First, I pretended to be an oni and I swear he chased me across half of Japan. Then when he was
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