“No need for that,” Jimmy said, stepping behind the counter and pulling out an enormous titanium bowl with a large letter P on it. “This…is Grohn.”
“Fascinating,” Monty said, looking up at the large creature. “You’ve befriended an ogre hybrid?”
“He works here now,” Jimmy said, taking the cases of beer. “He came highly recommended. Put all that over there, Grohn, thanks.”
The large creature placed the cases gently on the floor, surprising me as it sorted the meats from the beers. I didn’t think ogres were capable of fine motor skills that didn’t involve removing a head from its shoulders. Thankfully, he didn’t have the patented ogre B.O., sparing me the melting of my lungs. He smelled vaguely of cut grass and wood. For a few seconds, I was transported to the forest after a hard rain. The floor shuddering under my feet snapped me back to reality.
“By whom?” I asked, taking a step back to take in the entire Grohn image. “The last village he destroyed?”
“Simon…” Monty said, shaking his head slightly. “Do not anger the large ogre hybrid in an enclosed space. A large, null, enclosed space, I might add.”
“Good point,” I said. “Sorry, just not used to seeing an ogre in action without running for my life in the process.”
“Give me a second,” Jimmy said. “I’ll take care of your pup before getting your usual.”
Grohn looked like an ogre on steroids. He was larger than any ogre I had ever had the displeasure of facing. He towered over Jimmy and dwarfed Monty and me. Peaches vibrated in place as he stared at Jimmy, oblivious to the huge wall of ugly creature that crouched several feet from us, putting supplies away.
If Peaches was only thinking about meat, this Grohn creature couldn’t have been too bad. On the other hand, my hellhound had a singular focus when it came to meat and Jimmy was currently filling his bowl with premium pastrami.
<The bear man is getting me meat.>
<How do you know it’s for you?> I teased. <Could be for that big guy, Grohn.>
<The large tree man would never eat out of my bowl.>
<Can you smell the large tree man? Is he okay?>
Peaches sniffed the air and chuffed.
<The large man is good. He smells like trees and my meat. The bear man is getting meat for me.>
<Yes, yes he is. Behave. Once he’s done, you can go over and devour.>
<The bear man is a good man.>
<Don’t forget to say thank you.>
So much for my ‘easily-distracted-by-the-scent-of pastrami’ hellhound threat detector. If any of our enemies ever weaponized pastrami we were in deep trouble.
“Since when do you hire muscle for the Rump?” I said, looking at Grohn. “And by muscle, I mean the very large wall of ogre currently occupying all of the space in here.”
Jimmy looked at me and laughed.
“Since you two roam the streets freely?” he said. “Thank you for the runework, by the way, Tristan. It’s been ultra-effective.”
“My pleasure,” Monty said. “Any incidents?”
“Not since the runes and Grohn here,” Jimmy said, glancing over at the large ogre-like creature. “Things have calmed down somewhat.”
“I can imagine,” I said. “Is he an ogre?”
“Ask him yourself,” Jimmy said. “He understands you. Need to get some more things out of storage. In the meantime, let your hellhound snack. Be right back.”
I glanced down at Peaches, who gave me the utmost set of puppy-dog eyes followed by a tiny whine, and a ferocious fang-filled hellhound grin.
<We really do need to work on your smile. Go. Don’t mangle the bowl.>
Peaches bounded off toward his bowl and promptly set himself to devouring mode as the pastrami disappeared into his gaping maw.
Jimmy glanced down at Peaches with a nod, smiled, then headed to the back room, leaving us alone with Grohn.
I turned to the massive creature staring intently at me. Every cell in my body wanted to draw my gun, shoot first, run across the street, and then ask questions. I deliberately dropped my hands and shook them out.
“Right, what could possibly go wrong with this scenario?” I said, mostly to myself. “Hello, Grohn.”
“Hello, Mr. Strong,” Grohn said, his voice reverberating around us. “Welcome to the Randy Rump.”
“You know who I am?”
Grohn nodded as he sorted more of the crates.
“Mr. Jim told me about you and showed me pictures,” Grohn said. “He said you like to break things and I should stop you if you break the Rump.”
“I like to break things?” I said, glancing at Monty, who had suddenly taken an intense interest in the view outside the window. “He said I break things?”
“Yes,” Grohn answered with a smile. “Don’t worry. I like to break things, too.”
“Can I ask you a question?” I said. “I don’t mean to be rude.”
Grohn looked at me and nodded as he placed some of the crates aside.
“A first time for everything,” Monty said, heading to a table as Jimmy reappeared with his arms full of some more meats and supplies. “Some tea, James?”
“The usual?”
“Yes, please,” Monty said with a nod, settling into a chair. “It would be much appreciated.”
“What are you, Grohn?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “I’ve met ogres before; usually they’re angry and want to rip me to pieces. You’re unlike any ogre I’ve seen.”
Grohn nodded again.
“I’m a trollgre,” Grohn said. “Half ogre, half troll. We are very rare.”
“And very dangerous,” Jimmy said, from behind the counter. “You need anything, Simon? Coffee?”
“Yes, Deathwish me please, with extreme caffeine intent. Thank you,” I said, moving over to the table Monty occupied. Grohn stepped over a moment later. “A trollgre. No wonder you haven’t had any incidents lately. It’s nice to meet you, Grohn. I hope I never have to find out how dangerous you are.”
“One massive heart attack and herbal royalty coming right up,” Jimmy said from behind the counter as he prepared our drinks. “Grohn’s only dangerous if we’re attacked.”
“All are welcome to the Randy Rump, as long as they behave,” Grohn said.
