The Bad Boys of Assjacket: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Magic and Mayhem Book 9

by Robyn Peterman

  Poutine sauntered over with her girls by her side. “So, I’m guessing the Goddess proved I wasn’t lying?” she inquired way too casually.

  “Are youse mad?” I asked, squinting at her.

  “Would have done the same thing,” she replied, pulling me to my feet. “However, you will pay, Fat Bastard. And the price will be steep.”

  It was the sexiest thing the dame had ever said to me. “It will be my pleasure, Poutine. My absofuckinglute pleasure. And while we’re at it, weese can commit the perfect crime.”

  Poutine yawned rudely. “What’s the perfect crime?”

  I grinned and grabbed my bits in respect for her beauty and horribly sexy attitude. “I’ll steal your heart and youse can steal mine.”

  Poutine tried not to smile. She failed. “You’re a cheesy asshat, Fat Bastard.”

  “Yep, but I’m your cheesy asshat,” I replied.

  “We’ll see,” she said, flouncing away.

  Boba patted me on the back. “Dat was so smooth, I almost wept.”

  “Youse are the master,” Jango conceded.

  “Thank youse,” I told them. “Weese have our work cut out for us with dem dames, but I’ve never felt more alive. Are weese all in?”

  “Like Flynn,” Boba said with a wide grin.

  “I’m in with a grin on my chin drinkin’ gin with a twin and her kin on a spin…” Jango said then took off in a sprint as we began to pummel his rhyming ass.

  The bloody wrestling match with my boys felt great. It was also a second macho display for the dames. If we were going to win their violent, crime-loving hearts, we were going to have to play our cards right.

  And of course, cheat.

  Chapter Six

  “I’d like to propose a toast,” Poutine said, raising her can of Beth’s Blackout Oyster Stout high. “To Assjacket, cryptic messages from the fabulous Goddess and old friends who may or may not survive the night.”

  The dame had a way with words that made my heart skip a terrified and joyous beat. While Sassy and the gals sipped on beer, me and the boys stuck to water. We couldn’t risk another brain-pickling. We had sexy, hairy, female criminals to woo.

  The sun setting on the horizon resembled a beautiful big orange and pink testicle. Poutine’s white fur glistened in the early evening glow. I knew I could happily stare at her thieving, lying face for the rest of my nine lives and be a very happy cat.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Sassy said, handing out sandwiches as we sat on the bench under Sturgill and watched the sunset. “You’re Canadian cat burglar tutors, eh?”

  “No,” Poutine explained patiently for the fourth time to a confused Sassy. “We’re Canadian language tutors who are also cat burglars.”

  “World-renowned cat burglars,” Jango added with pride.

  That got a smirk from all three dames. Jango had always been smooth with the ladies, but he was outdoing himself this fine evening.

  “That’s wonderful,” Sassy said with complete sincerity. “Which means I’ll learn aboot cat burgling Canadians?”

  “Say yes. Trust me. This shit could go on for days,” I muttered to Poutine, scarfing my sandwich and going for another.

  It was clear that Sassy hadn’t made the sandwiches because they were edible. Her mate Jeeves, a good man, was a kangaroo Shifter and chef who had obviously saved us all from food poisoning. Sassy burned water.

  “Umm… yes,” Poutine said, following my advice. “That’s correct.”

  Sassy squealed. “That is so exciting! After I learn Canadian, I’m going to become fluent in British. Do any of you furry gals speak British?”

  Poutine, Annie Surely and Blythe looked puzzled. Sassy was good like that. She was a weapon of mass confusion.

  “I plan to learn all the languages of the world,” Sassy went on, not needing an answer to any of her questions. “Canadian has stymied me. It’s complicated—so much ado aboot boots.”

  Blythe laughed and patted Sassy’s head. “It’s very much like American just add aboot and eh to most of your sentences and you’ve got it.”

  Sassy was flabbergasted. “Do you mean to tell me I’m already fluent in Canadian, eh?”

  “Yes,” Annie Surely said.

  “Oh my Goddess,” Sassy screamed, jumping to her feet and knocking the picnic basket to the ground. Sadness overwhelmed me as she stepped on and destroyed the delicious looking blueberry pie that was supposed to be dessert. “You gals are the best tutors I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve ever had tutors, per se, but you rock!”

  “Our pleasure,” Poutine said. “You are an excellent student.”

  Sassy blushed profusely at the praise and shook her head. “I’m really not. People don’t think I’m smart. No, wait… Actually, I don’t think I’m smart—I can’t spell and I mess shit up all the time. But everyone in Assjacket loves me just the way I am.” She glanced up at the beautiful sunset and wrapped her arms around herself. Sassy’s voice lowered to a whisper. “That never happened until I came here—people loving me with no strings attached. I’m ninety percent sure with a twenty-three percent chance of error minus thirty-one percent plus twelve and three-fourths percent chance that I love myself too. Assjacket is magic. The real deal. So, I suppose learning to speak in tongues is for me, not to prove anything, you feel me? I don’t have to prove myself to anyone anymore.”

  There was a long moment of enchanted silence. The sunset blazed a brighter pink and a mist of glittering lavender sparkles rained down from the darkening clouds. The Goddess agreed.

  The furry dames were seriously moved and rubbed themselves on Sassy’s nice gams. Poutine was purring and not one claw was out. Blythe and Annie Surely had the most pleasant expressions I’d ever witnessed on the broads. Sassy might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but she was gorgeous inside and out.

  The nutty witch’s honesty was humbling. “Youse might not be able to spell, but youse can knock down a building better than a fuckin’ demolition team,” I told Sassy.

  She gave me a little grin and a giggle. “I am kinda good at that.”

  “Amazing,” Blythe purred.

  “And youse was an f-in’ star in dem Assjacket Community Theatre shitshows,” Jango added. “The way youse remembered dem lines without having to write dem down on your hand was incredible.”

  “Thank you,” Sassy said as her smile grew.

  “Ohhhhh,” Annie Surely said, clapping her paws together. “We would love to see you act.”

  “And youse adopted dem chipmunks when nobody else would,” Boba reminded her. “Dat was some crazy shit, but youse became a mom of four fuzzy weirdos who are old enough to be your great grandpappies. Dat takes nards and smarts. Youse have kept dem fuckers alive for years. Don’t youse forget dat.”

  “I have,” Sassy said with a wide grin. “I think I might be kind of awesome! Jeeves loves me, and he’s the nicest man in the Universe.”

  “And one of the luckiest,” Poutine said. “You are quite fabulous, Sassy.”

  “Goddess,” Sassy muttered, sitting down on the pie she’d stepped on without noticing. “I freaking love Assjacket. And…”

  “And?” I asked, ready to pump Sassy up some more if she needed it.

  “And,” she said, looking down and wincing. “There’s something squishy under my bottom.”

  “Dat was dessert,” Jango told her, waving his paw and making the blueberry mess disappear.

  “Ohhh,” Sassy said with an embarrassed giggle. “I’m so sorry aboot that, eh. How aboot we go over to the Assjacket Diner and have some cheesecake, eh? It would be aboot the worst thing ever if we didn’t end the evening with dessert, eh?”

  “Youse got yourself a deal, dollface,” I said, chuckling.

  “Awesome!” Sassy said, wiggling her fingers and cleaning up the rest of the picnic mess along with the remnants of our massive billboard she’d destroyed earlier. “Did any of you guys catch how much Canadian I just used?”

  “We did,” Poutine said with a
laugh. “Such a smart witch.”

  Sassy squealed and skipped down the deserted Main Street toward the diner.

  “She’s truly lovely,” Poutine said as we all followed. “Is everyone here just like her?”

  I chuckled and wrapped my tail around her furry shoulders, hoping the move wouldn’t mean I was about to lose a nard. “Nobody is quite like Sassy,” I said. “The Goddess broke the mold after she created dat gal, but the rest of the idiots in town are just as special.”

  Poutine glanced over at me with a look I couldn’t decipher. But at least she didn’t slice off a giblet. Things were looking up.

  “Do youse like cheesecake?” I asked, as we moseyed over to the diner. “Wanda the raccoon Shifter makes the best cheesecake in the Universe.”

  “I’m liking a lot of things about Assjacket,” Poutine muttered with an eye roll.

  Her gals giggled and nodded. They also rolled their eyes. Jango waggled his brows and Boba whistled a happy tune.

  As good as life had been for us in Assjacket, it had just gotten a whole lot better.

  Chapter Seven

  The inside of the Assjacket Diner was as delightful as the two Shifters who owned and ran it. DeeDee the deer Shifter and Wanda the raccoon Shifter were the best. The gals turned a blind eye to the fact that we regularly pilfered baked goods. That’s what I called classy—the owners and the joint.

  “Wanda, youse hot patootie!” I yelled as we entered the diner. “Youse got some cheesecake for me and my pals?”

  Wanda laughed and eyed the new gals with curiosity. “Don’t I always have cheesecake for you, Fat Bastard?”

  “Dat youse do,” I said gallantly as I led the gals over to a large six top table.

  The Assjacket Diner was full of charming décor and freaking delicious aromas. The tables were all dark heavy wood covered in charming Shabby Chic-ish tablecloths and kitschy mismatched napkins. A little girly for my taste, but the food was to die for—especially the cheesecake. Floral teacups and saucers like a grandma should have sat atop the tables and screamed for the Shifters and witches to drink from them with an extended pinkie.

  While we could hold a cup as well as any witch or Shifter, Wanda kept special kitty saucers for us to drink from. Without missing a beat, she placed a saucer of sweet cream in front of each of us.

  Blythe shot a covert glance at Poutine. Poutine was delightfully shocked. Annie Surely’s mouth hung open. Maybe Sassy had been wrong about Canadians. Maybe they weren’t as nice as the fantastic idiots in Assjacket.

  Maybe the dames wouldn’t want to leave…

  “I’m Wanda,” Wanda told the gals as she served up huge hunks of cheesecake. “You must be Sassy’s Canadian tutors.”

  “We are,” Annie Surely said, purring her content as Wanda gave her a scratch on the head. “And full disclosure, we’re also cat burglars. But we’re not here to steal anything—just here to tutor Sassy and check on a few things for the Goddess.”

  Wanda leaned in and smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Sassy is so happy she can speak the language now. However, all the talk about boots is a little much.”

  “Sorry aboot that,” Blythe said with a laugh.

  “Not to worry,” Wanda assured her, grinning. “Anyone who makes our Sassy feel on top of the world is good in my book. And dessert is on me.” She eyed me and the boys with amusement. “Not that you would have paid anyway.”

  On that slightly embarrassing note, she winked.

  “Wanda?” Poutine asked as she walked away. “Do you happen to know why women rub their eyes in the morning?”

  Wanda thought about it for a moment then shook her head. “Sorry, sweetie, I don’t.”

  “No big deal,” Poutine said. “Just thought I’d ask.”

  My gal was trying to figure out the cryptic message from the Goddess. I’d help my lady get to the bottom of it. I might not pay for my meals, but I was a damn good partner in crime when it came to solving magical mysteries.

  “I love it here,” Blythe announced, slurping loudly from her saucer of cream.

  “Me too,” Annie Surely added, peeking over at Poutine.

  Poutine shrugged with boredom, and I grinned.

  So far, so good.

  “Where did Sassy go?” I called out to Wanda, looking around the empty diner.

  “Jeeves is in the kitchen cooking up a storm for tomorrow,” Wanda said as she wiped down a few tables. “She went back to display her new language skills and most likely to make out.”

  “Youse closin’ soon?” Jango asked Wanda.

  “Yep, but take your time,” she replied. “Gotta do inventory tonight, and DeeDee has the evening off. I’ll be here for another hour or two.”

  A wonky day had come to a perfect end.

  Almost.

  Nothing good lasts forever. I just wish it would last for more than twenty-four fucking hours before it blew up.

  They walked in the front door looking surprised and confused. There were three of them. A mother, a father and a spoiled rotten female kid. Humans.

  “Da fuck?” Boba choked out.

  “What’s wrong?” Annie Surely asked, glancing around in confusion.

  “They never come here,” Boba whispered, pointing at the trio. “Never.”

  “Dis is bad,” I muttered. “Very f-in’ bad.”

  “Oh my goodness gracious,” the woman cried out, whipping out her cell phone to snap pictures. “This place is so charming. I just love it!”

  “Are you open?” the man called out to a wildly alarmed Wanda.

  “Umm… I was just…” Wanda trailed off, unsure how to respond.

  “Great,” the man said. “We’ll grab a table.”

  “I’m hungry,” the kid whined. “I want to eat. NOW.”

  “We will, honey,” the woman assured her mollycoddled spawn then turned to Wanda. “We’re in a bit of a hurry. Get someone over here to take our order immediately.”

  “Service here is crappy,” the man muttered, checking his phone.

  “What do you expect,” the woman snapped. “They’re rednecks.”

  I wanted to zap the shit out of the humans for being rude to Wanda, but that would give away a secret that wasn’t mine to give.

  Wanda was still frozen in her spot, unsure of how to handle something that had never occurred. Humans never stopped in Assjacket. And if they did, they’d never stepped foot into one of our establishments. The town looked like shit for a reason. What in the Goddess’s mom jeans was happening?

  “Get down on the floor,” I hissed frantically at my dessert companions. “Dem’s humans. It don’t look right if cats is sittin’ at a table eatin’.”

  Without a word of complaint or any backtalk at all, we slipped out of our chairs and under the table. We couldn’t even help Wanda. Talking cats were a big fucking no-no.

  “What do weese do?” Boba Fett asked, pulling on his whiskers and peeking out at the hot mess.

  “Weese can’t say nothin,” I ordered, freaking out. “They can’t have no clue about the magic. They ain’t supposed to be here. Somethin’ bad is happenin’ in Assjacket.”

  “Look at me, Fat Bastard,” Poutine hissed. “There is more than one way to skin a cat. If you can’t use magic, you use something else.”

  Next thing I knew, she’d punched me right in the kisser. I saw f-in’ stars. Poutine had one hell of a right hook. Normally, I’d find that hot. Right now, I was grateful the dame pulled me back to reality.

  “Text your witch,” Poutine whispered. “Tell her we need backup who can talk to humans and make them leave. Blythe and Annie Surely get ready to stage a cat fight. Make sure you use claws and draw copious amounts of blood. Jango, groom yourself. Swallow enough fur so you can hurl an enormous slimy hairball. Boba, what disgusting talent do you have?”

  “Youse name it, I can do it,” he promised.

  Poutine sized him up as I watched in admiration and amazement. My dame was badass under pressure.

  “Can
you pass wind on command?” she asked.

  Boba laughed. “I fart like a champion.”

  “Understatement,” I said, patting my comrade with pride.

  “Outstanding,” Poutine said, all business. It was hotter than Satan’s underpants. “Boba, slink under the tables and place yourself strategically near the humans. When Jango pukes up the ball,” she began only to be cut off by a horrified squeak from Jango.

  “Whoa. I thought weese was talking a hairball, not my giggle nuggets,” he said, paling under his fur. “I’m all for bein’ a team player, but if possible, I’d like to keep my nards.”

  “Hairball,” Poutine said with an eye roll.

  “Got it,” Jango said as he began grooming himself like his life depended on it—which it very well might.

  Poutine continued as cool as a cucumber. “So, Jango will hurl the hairball when Blythe and Annie Surely start choking each other. Boba, you will then blow a room clearing stinky. Got it?”

  “Roger dat,” Jango said with a mouth full of fur.

  The others nodded and waited for a signal to begin.

  Poutine patted Boba on the head. “Boba, you move now. When you’re set, the rest will follow.”

  “Youse got it, boss,” he said and slunk away.

  “Poutine, youse and me will head for the back room and hit the fuse box. No electricity, no service.”

  She nodded. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “Mom, there’s a kitty,” the awful human child squealed, pointing at Boba, who didn’t slink with his usual finesse. “I want it. I want to keep it.”

  “Oh darling,” the woman said, eyeing Boba with a sour expression on her face. “We can’t have a cat. I’m allergic, and they’re filthy animals.”

  “I WANT IT,” the spawn of the underworld screeched.

  The woman looked to the man. He shrugged and pulled out a fat wallet filled with bills. “How much for your cat?” he asked Wanda.