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“Can you believe this shit? How can a Halloween store not have my size?”
“Well, ‘hulking giant’ is hardly a common size.”
“Shut up. You’re even taller than me. How come you found anything?” Riftan scowled, twisting his lips and tossing the plastic armour—woefully under-sized—back into the storage bin.
Hebaron glanced at his costume—a half-decent Frankenstein’s Monster get-up—and shrugged. “It was just made for the big and buff. Tough luck, mate. You’re going to have to dig to get something.”
“I was really set on getting the knight costume. Maybe I’ll go somewhere else—“
“Did my ears just deceive me?” Ruth popped into existence behind Riftan, a clipboard in his hand. “You said something about abandoning your friend at his time of need when he opened a Halloween store and is in desperate need of some cash—“
“Oh, give it up, Ruth. Stop your nagging and just point to where anything that might fit me would be.” Riftan rubbed his forehead in dismay as Hebaron laughed at the two.
It was obvious that Riftan and Ruth had a certain dynamic to their relationship, something not unlike an uncle and nephew, or, dare he say, father and son, and watching Riftan cave to Ruth’s guilt-tripping henpecking was hilarious. There was no one else who could humble his captain other than Ruth, and the fact was nothing short of hysterical.
“If you are quite finished guffawing like a donkey, there’s some wizard robes by the dressing rooms.”
“This shithole has dressing rooms?” Heb snarked, peeved at Ruth’s insult. “I thought you just upended a few stolen cargo containers into this squat.”
Ruth glared at Hebaron, which meant he was entirely right and this was likely an ambiguously legal venture at best, and walked them to the back of the store, where a couple of tents, disguised as dressing rooms, stood a few paces apart from each other.
Nearby were numerous racks, filled to overflowing with an assortment of hangers holding a variety of floor-length costumes. Riftan sifted through them, wisely choosing to look for the ones dragging longest on the floor, as Hebaron went to the tents—dressing rooms—and peeked around.
A pair of wide and shimmering grey eyes widened further as they met his gaze above the zipper line, blinking once, twice, thrice, before the mouth below them opened with a shrill shriek.
“A-A-AGNES!” she screeched, making Heb stumble back and fall on his ass. “H-help!”
Immediately, out of the second tent, a familiar figure burst out, wielding a round plastic chakaram, matching her Xena the Warrior Princess outfit. He hated how hot she looked. It suited her perfectly.
“Maximillian! Are you alright?” The second woman called, blonde hair flying side to side as she looked for the screamer. Her piercing blue eyes beset on Hebaron, looking undignified and sprawling on the floor, and her teeth showed as she bared them. “It’s you.”
“Oy. What’s going on?” Riftan, who had drifted a little away, seemed unruffled by the blood-curdling scream and returned to find Agnes towering over Hebaron. “Oh. You’re here. Why are you here?”
Even for Hebaron, his tone sounded rude. Not that he cared how Riftan spoke to the snobby, rich, pompous—
“I—I don’t have time for this,” she frowned and spun, heading to the visibly shaking tent. “Maximillian, are you all right?”
“Maxi…millian?” Riftan froze, head snapping towards Agnes and her friend.
“What a mouthful,” Heb said, sniffing and bouncing to his feet. He brushed his legs and examined his costume, thankfully unharmed. “Pretty eyes, though, and a good set of lungs.”
I bet I could make her scream louder—
“What is this? Some kind of high-school reunion?” Ruth stepped over a fallen mannequin with a Shrek suit and stood between the two groups. “Get your shit together! I’m running a business here!”
“You call this dump a business? We’re your only customers!” Heb remarked with a slow spin to drive his point in. “Riftan, let’s just go—“
But the captain was not paying the slightest bit of attention to Hebaron.
Ruth scoffed and made shooing motions, clearly wanting to get them away before further calamity could ensue.
“It’s okay. Come out, Maximillian,” Agnes Rueben, the queen of Wedon Secondary, tried to coax the other woman out of the tent. Who knew she was capable of such compassion and tenderness?
“B-b-but there’s p-people out there…” Her stammering voice, meek and frightened, tore at his irritation. He must have given her a proper scare.
He didn’t know there were people in the tents! Damn Ruth to the pits of hell!
“Captain. Let’s go.” Hebaron put a hand over Riftan’s shoulder, confused at his stillness. You’d have thought there was some dangerous animal nearby by how tense he was. “We should leave the girls—“
“You’re fine. Ignore them. I know these two and one is an idiot and the other a total ice pole,” Agnes said, her voice intentionally too loud. She shook her mane of hair, brushing it over her shoulder with careless disdain. “Pay them no mind.”
“Oy!”
He meant to say more, insult her back or perhaps throw a Hulk glove on her, but Maximillian, the one with the pretty eyes left her hiding spot. She emerged, shy and sweet with an untameable vivid auburn head of hair she must have attempted and failed at putting in a bun, her slim figure clad in what no one would think was a knight’s armour but clearly was inspired by it.
Shining silver fabric mimicked the metal plates, leaving much to be desired in the chest area. Cobalt blue dripped from her waist, resembling a tunic or a skirt, Hebaron could not tell, but it ended quickly, letting the milky-white skin of her thighs show before being covered by the high boots, made of the same material as the…dress? It was no armour, that was for sure.
Even plastic would have done a better job.
“Wow.”
All eyes—Heb, Ruth, Agnes, and last but not least, Maximillian, snapped towards the speaker.
Riftan coughed; a slow-rising flush tainted his brown skin like a stain.
“Ah…”
Hebaron knew in this instant that his moment to shine had finally come. It was wing-man time!
So what if she was friends with Agnes? She must have some redeeming qualities, and besides, she was cute and Riftan ‘wowed’ on her. That counts for something!
“Maximillian, right?” he said, redirecting the attention to him and focusing on the girl, and laid on the charm with a smile. She gaped, seeming stunned by the proceedings as her entire face went as red as her hair. “You look fantastic!”
“We’re leaving.”
“But—“
“Sorry to have disturbed you, ladies.” Riftan grabbed Heb by the arm and shoved him in the vague direction of the exit. “We best be on our way.”
“Wait, I—“ Hebaron just wanted her number, and he would arrange everything before Riftan shut him down. He only needed a minute!
“We’ll come back for the costumes. Ruth, save that for us, will you?”
“Cap—“
“I said, later!”
And indeed, they did return later in the evening, after a few fortifying pints in the pub down the street. Ruth had kept the Frankenstein’s Monster costume Heb dropped during the entire incident at the front. As Riftan disappeared to the recesses of the shop to choose one of the wizard robes, Hebaron took the opportunity to speak to Ruth with discretion.
“You got Agnes’ number?” he asked in hushed tones.
Ruth raised his narrowed eyes from ringing the costume up to Heb, suspicion clear on his face. “Why would you want that? I’m not meddling in your petty little quarrel,” he sniffed, returning to his task. “You should get over that, by the way. So what if she stole your girlfriend? You were all sixteen. Grow up.”
He gritted his teeth, flaring his nostrils to stay on task. Sorely tempted to smack ruth on the head with one of the fishnet tights displayed by the till, he took the more noble path and focused on the mission to help his friend.
“Yeah. Sure. More about that later, but for now, I don’t want her number for me, you twat. I want it for Riftan.”
“Riftan does not fancy that woman!” Ruth nearly shouted, slamming a hand down on the counter. “How many times—“
“You complete and utter dimwit, lower your voice!” he hissed. “Did you not see how he looked at her friend? We should get them together.”
Open-mouthed, Ruth froze mid-speech. After a moment of consideration, his expression shifted, turning calculated. “That’s…not a half bad idea.”
“Right.”
“Lucky for you, I happen to know she is available and unattached.”
“Well, that’s handy.”
“And, as a matter of fact, I also know she will attend Agnes’ Halloween party this year. You should go.” Ruth's eyes twinkled, a smirk tugging his lips. “It will a blast.”
Hebaron chuckled, already beginning to plan an elaborate plot to get Riftan and Maximillian together, alone, during some kind of slow dance.
He wasn’t sure how it would end, but, as he watched Riftan come back with a long, grey and tattered-looking garment of some kind, he would do his best to help him out.
After all, what are friends for?