low

How about a story about a hyper-sized bully? Doing all kinds of mischief with her power.

Part I

Doug sighed. It was his least-favorite part of the day: opening. He could already see Audrey's car sitting across the street. Well... “car” was a bit of an understatement. It was marked as a squad car, but the thing was practically an armoured personnel carrier. The major difference being an APC usually carries more than one person. He was just glad she didn't fuck with him in the alley again. She was, by every measure, the worst part about working near a precinct, at a coffee shop nonetheless. There were plenty of officers that visited the shop, but they were usually polite. Officer Audrey Gouthoff was the large, overgrown exception. Doug had spent more hours thinking about her — and the problems she caused — than anything else running the coffee shop gave him to think about. She was the reason why the shop now had a thick glass separator above counter. Doug started refusing to work shifts without something bulletproof between the customers (or just the one) and the people he oversaw, not to mention himself. The three baristas drew straws (technically coffee stirrers) to decide who had to turn on the “open” sign and unlock the front door. The straws decided it was Doug's turn. With a huff, the black feline went around the counter. He paused in front of the sign. Audrey was already waiting, leaning on her “car”, which was very clearly stressing the suspension. Hell, if she sneezed, she might flip the damn vehicle over. She noticed him staring and smirked. She started on her way across the road. With all the speed of his predatory ancestors, he flipped the switch, twisted the door key, and bolted back behind the counter. The bulky German Shepherd slammed the double doors open. “YOU READY YET, BITCH?” she barked at Doug. “What do you want, Audrey?” Doug asked, already very tired of this interaction. “I've told you a million fucking times. It's OFFICER. GOUTHOFF.” “Well, Officer. Gouthoff. What do you want?” “Quadruple cappuccino, and a box of of the cinnamon doughnuts.” “They aren't ready yet. It'll be at least twenty minutes.” The German Shepherd looked disgusted. “What the fuck are you still doing up here then? Get fucking baking. And get one of your midgets to make the coffee.” Doug scowled at her, punched the order in the register, and pointed to the card terminal. Audrey grabbed a card from one of her physically-stressed suit's many pockets, and swiped at the terminal. After the register dinged its “Transaction Complete!” bell, she walked off to the couch. She spread herself across it, taking up the entirety of the seat, which was originally meant for at least 3 people. Most of it was because of her excessive build, but some of it was simply her taking up as much space as she could muster.

Doug sulked off to the kitchen. The other two baristas, a lithe otter named Cara, and a rather short hedgehog named Barry, were hiding in the back. “I don't care which of you does it, but she wants a quad capp today, plus the usual doughnuts.” The two others started bickering before Doug jumped in and reminded them, “If you can't figure it out in the next minute, I'm picking, and you don't get a choice.” A short exchanges of glances later, Barry jogged off. In the distance, Doug heard Audrey shouting. “HEY CAT, GET YOUR FURRY ASS OUT HERE!” Doug knocked his head against a wall. “Cara, keep an eye on the doughnuts. First batch is cinnamon, alright?” “Sure, boss,” Cara replied. “CAT!” Doug shoved the swinging doors out of the way. “WHAT?” he yelled back. “WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY DOUGHNUTS?” “It hasn't even been FIVE MINUTES YET. I SAID TWENTY. Can you do math with that tiny domesticated head of yours? Figure out what twenty minus five is, then wait that long.” Doug was quickly becoming irritated. For the last six months, ever single shift he worked, she showed up and did something like this. It didn't matter when his shift was, she was always the first one through the door after he punched in. Barry stared at Doug, positively terrified. Audrey looked surprised, but that gave way in to a grim hatred. She pushed herself off the couch, and walked to the counter where Doug was standing. She pushed her face as close to the glass as her bulky chest would let her. “Unless you want to find out exactly how bulletproof this glass is... you're gonna shut your mouth, and go get me some fucking doughnuts.” “You do a damned thing and I'll call the-” “Call the what? Call the cops?” she taunted. The thousand-pound staredown between Audrey and Doug ended with him turning around and returning to the kitchen. She chuckled and straightened up. “What the fuck are you looking at, pipsqueak?” she growled at Barry. “Make my fucking coffee.”

Part II

Doug didn't come out until the doughnuts were ready, despite Audrey's varied barking and taunting. “'Bout fuckin' time.” She growled as he walked out carrying the 12-count box of doughnuts. Looking at her, he could hardly tell that she ate that much junk in a day. Maybe the fur covered up the fat... or it could all go to her tits. She did have a serious rack. He didn't know how much was actual breast flesh versus pectoral muscle, but he couldn't say he cared. Immediately after she plowed through the double-door entrance, all three punched out for a break.

After the morning's events, the next few hours went smoothly. Around midday, one of the front trash bins had finally filled up with cardboard cups and paper plates. One of his prestigious duties as shift manager: taking the trash out. He donned a pair of rubber gloves, pulled the bag out of the bin, and walked through the store with the bag slung over his back. Thorough the store, to the alley, to the back of the building, where the dumpster waited for him with the utmost patience. He tossed the bag in to the dumpster, turned the corner, and... froze in his tracks. There, looming like an eclipse, stood Audrey. If he could sweat he would have been pouring like a water fountain. “Officer...” he managed to squeak out. “Not so tough without that glass, huh cunt?” Doug swallowed hard. He shifted his eyes to the door, just barely beyond the titanic dog. Slowly, he tried to ease toward the door. Audrey noticed, and slammed the entirety of her bulk in to the brick wall, cutting off Doug's path, and leaving a significant impression in both Doug and the wall. “Nuh uh. You're not going anywhere until I say so. Got it?” Doug stared, totally immobilized by fear. She extricated herself from the wall, grabbed Doug by the arms, spun him around, and pushed him against the wall. She patted him down in classic search fashion. “Get the apron off.” Doug compiled, and removed the demure brown apron. “Shirt.” Doug looked back at her quizzically. She emphatically repeated the command, and pushed his head against the wall. “SHIRT. OFF.” He used the little bit of movement he could muster to pull off his vintage graphic tee. “Good boy. Now lose the pants.” Doug stared at her in raw defiance. She pressed herself up against him and growled. “Don't make me say it again.” Doug did nothing. “Fine.” She lifted him off the ground with one hand, grabbed a pant leg, and pulled the jeans off without wasting time on minor things like unbuttoning them, or removing his belt. Audrey patted him down again, collected the clothes, then released him. “Go on, get back to work,” she ordered. “Give me my clothes.” “No chance. I'll call 'em evidence if I have to, but we both know you won't push me that far. Here, you can have this back.” She tossed the ruined leather belt back to him. The pin had torn through the leather as she relieved himself of his pants. Without a word, the cat slipped back in to the shop.

He called in a favor from a neighbor, who brought him some fresh clothes. Then, he called the shop owners. The couple that owned the three-store setup were usually supportive of Doug, since he was one of their first employees in their first shop. They supported the idea for the glass shield, and a dozen other ideas he's had in the course of his employment there. “Mr. Phisser? It's Doug. I'm sorry to bother you, but there's something going on I thought you might want to be aware of. There's an officer with the city police department that's been harassing us for some time. She's one of those really big, well-built types. Scares the hell out of me. She's very uh... direct. Demanding, even. She likes ordering the staff around like they work for her. This morning, we had a... run-in with her. She was yelling at us while we were baking some pastries for her, and I said some things that she didn't like, and she threatened me.” “Good lord. Did you call the department? Report it?” said a hoarse voice. “No sir, I think it could make matters worse if we did that.” “That's-ss consss-serning.” “There's more. Just a few minutes ago, she showed up and stripped me down in the alley. She, uh, she took my clothes.” “Are you okay? Did ss-she hurt you?” “Only my pride, sir.” “Lisss-sten Doug, I've got ss-some friends-ss in the city government. I'll asss-sk ss-some favors-ss. I've got a friend or two in the law busss-sinesss too, if you'd like represss-sentation. I'm posss-sitive I could ss-swing you a ss-steep disss-scount.” “That's very generous, sir, but I think we'll be better off taking this one step at a time.” “I undersss-stand. I'll be in touch.” “Yes sir. Oh, one more thing while I have you.” “Yes-ss?” “I don't think we should keep stocking rodents at this location, sir. I've had to throw out two loads. I understand you want to keep some around for the reptilian customers, and I'm sure the recipes you and Mrs. Phisser provided are perfectly fine, but we haven't had a single reptilian customer at this store. As far as I know, the only ones that have eaten anything prepared with rodents at this location were the two of you on opening night.” “I sss-see. I'll bring it up with the miss-susss. Thanks-ss for the heads-ss up. You'll be hearing back from me ss-soon.” “Thank you sir. Good bye.” Doug hung up.

Part III

In the last half-hour of his shift, Doug got a call back from Mr. Phisser. “Doug.” he answered. “Has-sss sss-she been back?” the sharp voice asked. “No, sir. Everything's been pretty normal here.” “I've ss-spoken with the other ss-shift managers-ss. Della and Ss-sammy have ss-seen her, and they ss-say ss-she's-ss been posss-sitively pleasss-sant to ss-serve.” “I don't understand.” “Lisss-sten, Doug. I know the political sss-situation regarding police is-ss... tensss-se, but we can't let our feelings-ss get in the way of busss-siness-ss.” “Mr. Phisser, I can assure you, I'm not exaggerating. She physically pushed me against a wall and had me disrobe. She threatened to SHOOT me this morning, for Christ's sake. She left a huge dent in the wall where she tried to keep me from going past her.” “Regardless-ss, the next time you ss-see her, I want you to call me. I'll be there as-ss ss-soon as-ss poss-sible. Ss-say nothing to her, but do ss-serve her.” “Yes sir.” “Have a good evening, Doug, and be ss-safe.” “Thanks.” He hung up.

Doug pulled up a chair at his favorite table and stared off. “Audrey? PLEASANT?” he thought to himself. “Is it even grammatically possible to associate her with something positive?” His thoughts drifted for a few moments, before they came back in to focus with startling clarity. “What if it really is just me?” He was shocked. “What have I done to her? Did I do anything to her? Shit, what if it's because she's canine and I'm feline. Or maybe it's my fur color? Can dogs even tell what color this shit is?” He wracked his brain, trying to come up with something he did that could have possibly offended her, but came up empty. He didn't have a crystal-clear memory of the first time they met, but he was almost positive she came off as domineering, even then. His watch beeped, interrupting his thoughts. He pulled off the spare apron and hung it on the back of the door to the kitchen with the rest of them. He punched his pin in to the time clock and headed out. He reached in his pocket—his empty pocket. The pants she took had his keys, his wallet, everything but his phone, which had (fortunately) been charging inside.

Another call to his neighbor. After another 30 minutes, his apartment neighbor Artie showed up in his beat-up mid-90's sedan. The rat rolled down the window and shouted “Hop in, dude!” Doug quietly climbed in the car after clearing off the layer of junk Artie had stashed on the passenger seat. He reached back for the seatbelt which was conspicuously missing. “Hey Artie, does this thing have seat belts?” he asked. “Huh? Oh, seat belts? Nah. They mess with the airflow, man.” “But... they're on the inside?” “Airflow, man. Airflow.” Disconcerted, Doug sank in to the saggy chair. “Rough day, huh. Clothes AND the car? Someone finally pin you for child support?” “What the fuck are you talking about, Artie?” “Man, what a bitch. Taking your clothes off your fuckin' back. Still have a key to get in to your place?” “No, she took that too.” “Hah, knew it. 'She'.” Artie chuckled. “You're an idiot, Artie. 'She' was a cop.” “You weren't carrying anything, were you?” “What the hell would I be carrying?” “Huh? You didn't take the bag when we were hanging out yesterday?” “I was upstate with family yesterday, Artie. We hung out on Saturday. And no, I didn't take ANY bags... of anything.” “Shit, sorry. What'd a cop want with you then?” “I don't have a fucking clue. She hates my guts.” “S'cause you're a cat.” “Maybe. None of the other dogs I've dealt with had a problem with me, and I work at the closest doughnut place to a cop shop.” “Maybe they're hiding it better?” “Or maybe that's a stupid idea, Artie.” “Whatever, dude. What was she like. The cop, y'know?” “She was one of those types that looks like a comic book super hero. Muscles bulging everywhere, nice tits though.” “Shit, that's hot as fuck, man.” “What the fuck are you smoking, Artie?” “Uhh, right now it's...” “Never mind. Anyway, she'd pound you to dust.” “...and?” Doug stared in mixed surprise and disgust. “Hey, I don't call you out on what you like.” “I don't get off to the idea of getting crushed by a chick with more beef on her than a championship bodybuilder.” “Whatever. How are you gonna get in to the apartment?” “I'll call the landlord or something.” “I can help you if you want.” “Why the hell would I need help calling the landlord.” “Nah, getting in you apartment.” “And how would YOU do that, Artie?” “$20 that I can get you in.” “Artie...” “$20,” the rat insisted. “Fine. $20 if you get me in. IF you get me in.”

Finally arriving at the apartments, they jogged up the stairwell. Artie ducked in his apartment, and came out with a pair of Q-tips, a coat-hanger and a bag of paperclips. He quickly went to work, trying to compromise the door. Inconspicuously, Doug called the landlord.

Part IV

Doug's alarm squeaked at 4:15 AM. He didn't love the morning shift, but the manager position's mostly pay made up for it. He brushed his teeth, splashed some water on his face, and looked around for his wallet and keys. He sighed as he remembered the events of the day prior. He found his spare apartment key and tucked it in his pocket. “Guess I'll be getting a lot more bike work in without a car,” he thought as he lapped his block. After he wrapped up, he didn't bother putting his bike back on the wall hooks; he'd be riding it to work. He took a hot shower for a change. No telling what Audrey would do to him today, might as well get some relaxation beforehand. After a good soak, he dried off and started out the door. Just as he was about to release the door knob, he remembered. He flung the door back open, grabbed a sticky note pad and jotted “IOU $20 – Doug”. On the way out, he slapped it on Artie's door.

He opened the door to the shop. The shift schedule was the same as yesterday, and Barry was already there, waiting. Doug grabbed one of the sandwiches and a cup of soda from the refrigerator. As he sat down to eat, Barry sat down with him. “Notice anything different today?” Barry asked. “What, the tuna? We've been making tuna sandwiches for like three weeks.” “No, no. Look outside. Anything missing?” Doug peeked around the hedgehog. He almost spat out his sandwich when it finally clicked. “The bitch's tank isn't there?” “No cop bitch today.” Doug sarcastically got down on his knees and praised some divine being. Barry laughed. “What are you doing, Doug?” Cara asked, as she walked in from the back. “No cop bitch!” he enthusiastically relayed. Cara's shoulders relaxed a bit. “Thank goodness.” For the first time in recent memory, Doug volunteered to unlock the door. They didn't get their first customer for over half an hour. In fact, overall volume was way down for the entire morning. He was in the back making some custom sandwiches when Cara snuck in. “Hey boss, mind coming out here for a sec?” “Sure.” He followed the otter to the front of the building. Barry was waiting next to the window. “What's up?” Doug asked. “See for yourself.” Barry said, gesturing out the window. There, in Audrey's usual spot, were two white vans. “You know she wouldn't fit in either of those.” Doug mentioned. “She's not what I'm worried about. They've been there for like three hours.” “What do you think they're doing?” Barry was silent. “Look, we're not meter maids. Who cares if they're parked there for ten minutes or ten days? It's not even our parking space; it belongs to the carpet place. If there's a problem, they can deal with it. Anyway, Cara, I think table 3 is waiting for someone to take care of them.” “Alright,” she chimed, and hopped off. “So what do you want me to do, Barry? Go over and ask them to move? 'Hey guys, you're making one of my baristas nervous. Could you park somewhere else?'” “I just thought it was weird, no need to get fussy.” “Well, if they do anything, let me know. Okay?” “Sure.” Doug returned to the kitchen. As he finished the sandwiches, Doug's phone rang. “Doug.” “Doug, Has-ss ss-she been in yet?” “No, sir, Mr. Phisser. It's been pleasant break from the usual.” “That's-ss good to hear. I've been doing ss-some ss-shopping around, and I've ss-selected a ss-security ss-system for the ss-shop. I'm ss-sending you an email with the details-ss. Let me know what you think, when you get a chance. The inss-stallers-ss could be there later this-ss week if you think it'll work.” “Thank you, sir. I'll take a look. In the meantime-” Doug was cut off by a commotion in the back. There was a bang, followed by a clatter and shouting.

Heavily armored SWAT officers barged in. In the distance, the vans discharged a dozen equally-equipped officers, who stormed the front, assault rifles drawn. “POLICE! EVERYONE ON THE GROUND! DO NOT MOVE.” officers shouted in a cacophony. Doug dropped his phone. An officer approached him, pointing his barrel directly at Doug's chest. With a swift take-down, Doug was on the ground, hands cuffed behind his back. He looked around. Barry and Cara had been cuffed too, and the customers were being corralled by the police. After the initial shock wore off, Doug shouted “WHAT IS THIS? WHY ARE YOU HERE? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” “We're serving a search warrant, jackass,” the nearest officer jeered at him. “I want to see the warrant!” he yelled. “You'll get a chance. The scene commander's on her way.” “Her...”, he though as the last grave puzzle piece fell in to place.

As large as life, Audrey strode through the doors.

Part V

She pulled the radio transceiver to her muzzle. “Teams One and Two, search the back. Not a bean unturned. Team Three, keep the customers and employees where they are. At least one of the employees is suspect, and I'm confirming and making the arrest.” As soon as she let go of the transmit button, Doug could hear rummaging in the back. Audrey walked up to him, tossed a colored plastic folder on the ground. “One warrant.” Doug stared up in contempt. She kneeled next to him. He was surprised her pants had enough room to accommodate her thighs at that angle. “Are you Douglas Nirrow, age 26, feline, black fur, residence, apartment 294, 6110 Fallen Oak Road, Southold County?” “Yes.” “You are under arrest on suspicion of receipt and sale of restricted substances. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. If you do not have an attorney, one will be provided for you. If you do not wish to have an attorney present, you may stop answering questions at any time. Do you understand your rights as I've explained them?” Doug nodded. “Good. A word of advice? If I were you, I'd take full advantage of my right to remain silent. Don't want resisting arrest thrown in, now do we? That'd be a real shame... Unless you want to cooperate. In that case, I'd answer very carefully. 'Yes Ma'am' would be a nice start.” Doug declined to answer. “Have it your way. Up you go.” She hoisted him off the ground by his collar. She turned to another officer. “Release the other two employees. I'm taking this one to the station, have a team leader call me if you find anything.” She dragged him to her not-quite-tank, opened the rear doors, tossed him in, and squeezed herself in to the front.

Doug, in a fit of indignation, shouted “You bitch! You raided the shop because of me? What the hell did I ever do to you? What god damned right do you have to do this?” “The badge, boy,” she said smugly. With Doug finally in the back of her not-quite-tank, Audrey put on a fresh smile; a kind she hadn't felt in years.

Doug stared out the window. After a few minutes, they passed the precinct. “Uh, officer?” “Hmm?” “We passed the precinct.” “Oh, did we?” she answered coyly. Doug's heart dropped. “What do you want with me — what are you going to do?” “Let's just say I like to do my questioning in a little more... personal way.”

On the floor of the coffee shop, laid the warrant papers, reading:

	An Affidavit having been sworn by AUDREY GOUTHOFF of the SCPD, before me this day, based upon facts stated herein, probable cause having been found, I command you make immediate search for the following described property and things, and if you find the same or any part thereof to take possession of the property hereinbefore described described and detain the same as provided by law, bring it forthwith before me at my office at Macksfield Junction, and make written return thereof according to law.
	- Messages, letters, documents and/or other written communication between ANTHONY S. PHISSER and employess, and SALIA H. PHISSER and employees, to include DOUGLAS NIRROW, SALAZAR REANCH, DELLA MCFARREN, and SAMUEL TRENT-DAVIS.
	- Equipment, materiel, products, or components pertaining to the manufacture, storage, acquisition, purchase, sale, or other activity regarding restricted substances, or reasonably believed to be integral to their use.