Who's to say what's a bug in this day and age? Nene, that's who

hololive's Nene Momosuzu.

Original stream: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yDsUA2DyC20

@MomosuzuNene
In a small café, one with frosted windows and awnings that had been tailor-made to resemble icicles, there sat a blue-haired snow elf, sipping her chilled Baileys cappuccino with extra Baileys. In fact, she may have been drinking pure Baileys. She was the proprietor of the café, a little place known locally as ‘Lamy’s’. It was often empty, which was fine with her. She didn’t get into the café business to rub elbows with the fine citizens of the city. She got into it to help embezzle the millions she made selling counterfeit snow globes by providing a legit business front through which she could filter her filthy lucre before declaring it as legal profit.

If a café that raked in millions despite seeing fewer visitors than Kanata’s first call-in stream raised a few eyebrows, those same eyebrows knew better than to stay raised, lest they wanted to be shaved. Permanently.

It was only last year that an up-and-coming beat cop tried to put the squeeze on Lamy, sticking her bill where it was likely to be snapped clean off. When the special on the menu for the next few days was ‘Roasted Duck’, people averted their eyes and hurried past the frosted windows of the café. The law left her alone after that.

But some nuisances are above the law.

The polar-bear-shaped chimes jingled as the front door of the café swung open. Lamy froze with her cup of Baileys half-way to her lips.

“Wamy! Two scoops of shaved ice, on the double!” A young woman with pinkish-blonde hair came parading through the front door, yanked out a chair across from Lamy, and leapfrogged over the back and landed on the seat. “I just finished my dance lessons and I need something to cool me down. Mind if I take my shoes off and air out the girls for a bit?”

With fragile pose, Lamy set the cup back on the table. “Nene, do you remember the chat we had the other day?”

Nene frowned. She rubbed the space between her eyebrows with her pointer finger. “Chat?”
“About how you’re to refrain from visiting during business hours?” said Lamy through her teeth.

Nene hummed to herself. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

Lamy reached over the table and placed an ice-cold hand on one of Nene’s. “Then consider this a reminder.” She glanced past Nene’s shoulder and nodded at the front door. “Come back later.”

“But I want shaved ice, now,” whined Nene.

“Don’t be difficult.”

“I’m not difficult.” She crossed her arms and pouted. “I’m easy.”

Lamy narrowed her eyes at her. “You’re hard and you know it.”

For a frozen moment, gold clashed with green as the two glared into each other’s eyes, two souls alien to the utmost about what the other was all about. Will pitted against will. The prize: absolute power in deciding whether the future was one in which there would be shaved ice. The loom of time jammed on this snag of a moment and the weft and weave of potentiality folded into a pattern of no tailor’s design.

Nene pushed her chair back and stood up. “Expect to read my Yelp review in the paper,” she said. She blew air out of her nose down at Lamy which caused her bangs to flutter. “It shall be most scrumpulous.”

“Nene, that’s not a real word.”

“It will be when I’m done with you.” Nene spun on her heel and stormed out.

Lamy was left alone in the café, relieved but with the first nibbles of foreboding gnawing at the back of her mind. She shivered and shook herself. What was the worst Nene could do with words?

That night, Lamy got into bed after a light nightcap of Everclear and set about scrolling Twitter as per usual. Pinned to the top of her feed was the most scrumpulous Yelp review ever penned. And it was about her.

“I had the mispleasure to sojournify at Ms. Lamy’s eatery after an instupendous burst of metabolism-intesmogrifying dancing. Weak and weary after such travails, I sought out some place that would serve me ice of the shaved variety. Instead, I received serv-ICE of the bad variety. Madam Lamy is a known nosepicker. She dyes her hair blue. Those pointy ears are prosthetics. All this to say, Wamy, if you’re reading this, I’ll be over in five minutes. I have a few ideas for your next brand of counterfeit snow globes. Oops, I wasn’t supposed to say, ‘counterfeit snow globes.’ Oh no! I said it again. Wamy, help! I can’t stop saying ‘counterfeit snow globes’! OH MY GOD WAMY! HELP! I’M REALLY SCARE—”

Lamy let her phone fall out of her hand. She stared into the dim light of her bedroom. In a hollow voice, she said, “I am never going to financially recover from this.”

[Stories every weekend!]
https://ko-fi.com/leifmaplesson

Видео Who's to say what's a bug in this day and age? Nene, that's who канала Maple Leaf Translations