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The Flying Hoof
"Phwaa, a cold one after a long day is just the best."
"That cheese line is all you can come up with?"
"Inded. Talk about cliche."
"Shut up. I am tired."
The three middle aged men continue bantering back and forth until they get interrupted by a sweet voice.
"Anyone need another drink or something to eat?"
It's Hana, the barmaid. She is the perfect, picturesque, pure maiden. Except for one tiny thing. She is a cow-woman. Her smooth brown skin and likewise colored, long flowing hair is accopimpinated by tiny horns, big cow ears and strong fluffy legs ending in hooves. Cute freckles across her face are the cherry on top of her adorable appearance.
"I take another one."
"Me too. And today's special."
"Certainly, dear. What about you, sweetie?"
"Swe-?! Erm, I also take today's special. And another ale."
"Got it. Just one moment please."
With a dissarming smile she hurries away to take care of their order.
"What? Why do you grin at me like that?"
"You have totally fallen for her, haven't you?"
"Wh-what?! Don't be ridiculous."
"I don't blame you. She is an angel."
"She sure is."
The third one chimes in. "An angle? I think she is terrifying."
"Terrifying? That's a harsh word."
"That's not harsh, that's simply not true! She is a kind and gentle angle!"
"Most of the time, yes. But sometimes..."
"Well, if you are an idiot you get what you deserve. But as long as you are kind to her she is kind to you."
The three continue until a magic word silences the crowd.
"Milk."
This word coming from a nearby table was all it took to quiet down the whole tavern. Everyone is eyeing Hana and the patron sitting next to her.
The three men whisper to each other.
"Do you think he is going to?"
"Never seen him here before, chances are high."
"..."
"Okay, I say five meters."
"I say five and a half."
"I go with six."
"Six, really? That's a lot. She looks a bit exhausted today."
"Look at him, he is a lightweight and sits on a chair at the perfect angle..."
"Hmm, you have a point."
Meanwhile at the center of attention.
"You want milk? I can bring you some just one mo-"
"No, I want your milk. I can squeeze it out right here and now!" He even made growping gestures in the air.
"Gosh, he is a prime idiot."
"He certainly is."
"But judging by your tiny dumplings not much will be coming out, hahahaha!"
He is the only one laughing.
"Oh fuck, look at her face. She is going to murder him."
"I up to six and a half!"
"Seven!"
"Screw it, this is going to be a new record, I say eight!"
All tables had similar discussions. The idiot in question was still laughing before it was ended abruptly. The was a swift movement, the sound of lungs exhaling their entire air in a split second and a loud crash. Hana had turned around and had sent the idiot flying across the room with a booming back kick.
"Wow, that was wide."
"He doesn't even moan. Went right unconscious."
Hana approaches the now silenced moron.
"Lets see. A table, two plates, two jugs, no, three jugs..."
She generously counts out money out of the idiot's purse.
"... the chair got a scratch too. Then there is the handling fee, the milk fee, the dumpling fee..."
"She really is pissed today."
"Told you, she is terrifying."
After Hana has put away the various fees she looks down at the donor.
"Hmm, maybe I overdid it a bit. I should carry him to the doctor."
"I'll take care of this for you."
"Are you sure? That saves me a lot of trouble."
She gives the volunteer a big, warm hug. The lucky one is melting away.
"Told you, she is an angel."
Someone shouts. "Todays result, eight and a half meters!"
"Told you, it's a new record. I win!"
"Dang. Now I lost my money and an opportunity for a hug!"
"Somehow you sound more disappointed by the latter part."
"Shut up!"
"If you ask her nicely you might get one."
"You mean it?!"
"Either that or you set up a new record."
"Hahahaha!"
All tables went back to their conversions. Some help with cleaning up the landing zone. And Hana is serving the next guest with a bright smile.
It's just an ordinary day at the Flying Hoof.
