Performing in front of friends was daunting enough, even without the added pressure of a certain friend being a performer herself. (Not yet confirmed whether Axel had played any shows, but even if he had, his greasy hair made it easier for Moxie to not let his potential observations get in her head.) (Not in the way that she didn't take him seriously as an artist, regardless of his level of experience, but in the way that he was a man first and foremost and she cared less about their opinion overall.) (She was not a hater. Nope.) The events that had unfolded the night before—technically that morning; technically three glorious times—set Moxie ablaze with unstoppable energy, floating across the stage with effortless ease. Mick shared in the undeniable enthusiasm that made for a great show if she did say so herself. Nothing could stop them. Nobody would even dare to try.

It was hard to look at anyone else in the crowd besides Cruella, for more reasons than just the development in their relationship. She looked every bit like an artist completely in the zone, appreciating their shared art form. It only further inspired Moxie to put on an even better show just for her. For too many moments, Cruella was the only woman in the room that night. The only woman whose face Moxie wanted to see in every crowd.

Although, for one brief moment, Moxie caught a snapshot view of Axel staring at Eddie. Like the mental picture he snapped of her whenever she was around was the pièce de résistance of his career.

Mick whistled as he waltzed past her, smiling at the same view he was admiring. (Either he accepted that Axel registered a negative five on gaydar levels, or he hadn't realized that the couple in the crowd included someone he thought he knew.) Watching people fall in love was a special thing. Like when Mick had spotted the greasy-haired love of his life during a show in the Bay Area some time ago, or when Moxie met literally any woman ever.

Their mood didn't drop, even once the show had ended. They had made a mental note to not spend too long getting ready since their friends were waiting outside for them. Moxie was much quicker about getting the grime from the stage off her body. She even had time to ask Lana if she wanted to join them, but she had declined citing brutal period cramps as her reason. No other explanation was needed.

Moxie peeked around the corner of Mick's dressing room door just as he tugged a raggedy Queen shirt over his head. She had gifted it to her brother for his twenty-first birthday.

"Ready?"

"Where are we going again?" Her brother asked.

"Cruella said she has a surprise."

Mick suppressed a smile rather poorly.

"Don't say it."

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Yeah, but you were thinking something."

"I'm always thinking something."

Moxie fastened the pink and orange ombre carabiner to the belt loop of her jeans. "And what would you be thinking if I said I might have seen Bay Area greasy-haired boy in the crowd tonight?"

He had never moved so quickly in his life. She found it mildly impressive. Who knew he had it in him?

"What?"

She crossed her arms. Checkmate. "You heard me."

"There's no way."

"I'm not saying it is him, but if it isn't, it might just be an evil twin."

"Okay but how confident are you really?"

Moxie pretended to think it over. Her brother was going to lose his mind once he realized what was happening.

"A soft sixty percent."

He narrowed his eyes as she stuffed his wallet into his back pocket. "Are you fucking with me?"

"Why would I do such a thing?"

Mick didn't look too convinced either way. He certainly wanted to believe she was telling the truth and that Axel's attendance wasn't some mirage off in the distance. But, well, Moxie could be a little shit sometimes.

"I hate you."

"You love me."

...

"I really do hate you," Mick whispered.

"I haven't got the slightest clue what you're talking about," said Moxie.

They were outside the venue. Most of the attendees had left by that point or were being strategically diverted in another direction, thankfully. Their little group had a few friendly faces that tended not to go unnoticed.

"I thought you were joking when you said you saw Bay Area greasy-haired boy, what the f—"

Moxie tugged her arm out of his iron-clad grip. "He has a name, you know."

"And how do you know what his name is?"

"Maybe he thinks we're newly minted friends." Moxie shrugged. "Maybe not."

"Excuse you?"

"Shut up, they're right there."

Eddie elected to pretend she hadn't overheard their conversation.

"Hi!" she said. Eddie exhaled as Axel's hand slipped from her waist. "Amazing show guys, really. Thank you for inviting us. You killed it."

"Thank you!" Moxie elbowed her brother. "Mick, this is Eddie. Axel is your Bill Murray."

"Huh?"

"Owe you this, my Sigourney." Axel pulled a beer from his back pocket like a magician. "Thanks for the ticket."

Mick cleared his throat awkwardly as he accepted the outstretched gift. Moxie tried not to laugh too hard when their fingertips brushed against each other.

"Yeah, um. Thanks for... stopping by." Spoken like someone who had the faintest idea what was going on.

"Even better the second time." It was the worst thing Axel could have said. A reminder of Mick's running story about how the greasy-haired boy from the Bay Area could have been the lost potential love of his life. "Literally incredible. Way to keep the pants together this time."

Mick looked like he wanted to drop dead. "My sister would've disowned me."

"Worth it?"

"Depends on who's watching, I guess."

"Lesbian Bill Murray count for something?" Eddie asked.

"I want to say yes," Mick started, "but it feels kind of wrong to—"

"He doesn't have a carabiner keychain so we know he's only pretending to be a lesbian," Moxie chimed in, hand to her own badge of honor. "It's fine."

Moxie and Mick once had a long conversation about the difference between a carabiner and a carabiner keychain. One was functional and practical; the other could do the job but was mostly for aesthetics.

The one on Moxie's hip was a hefty utilitarian tool, complete with a locking mechanism.

Axel looked like an aesthetic carabiner keychain bitch at best. Fitting for the fakest of lesbians.

"Guess we know what he should've gotten for his birthday," Eddie said.

"Speaking of the birthday boy," Cruella said. She pulled out a cardboard party hat with a pink pompom on top. "We need our ghost-hunting gear. Axel, this is yours."

"I—" Axel stopped himself short. (Maverick style.) The hat was promptly, albeit begrudgingly, placed on top of his head with the string tucked neatly under his chin. "Okay. I'm not arguing."

"I booked us a tour to show us around the French Quarter and... well, the other part is a surprise," Cruella continued, unfazed by her undeniable charm and its effect on everyone around her.

"Should we be scared?" Eddie asked.

"The other one is unsolved so... I'll let you make up your minds when you hear who it's about."

"Sounds fun." Axel cracked open another beer.

Bud Light. Fucking gross.

"Are you just going to drink that in the middle of the street?" Eddie looked like she was questioning her newfound situationship.

Axel stared. Bottle of piss in hand. "We're in New Orleans."

Look, Moxie imagined there were few things the two of them had in common, but if there was one thing any of her friends could attest to, it was how she loved a good round of public drinking. She understood full well that she was not a role model, but it wasn't like that was going to stop her either. She owned it. For better or worse.

So, out came the bottle of champagne she snuck out of her dressing room.

"Exactly."

Axel out his beer toward Mick. "Cheers."

"Cheers."

Both of their beverages went down the hatch at lightning speed. Before anyone could think twice, another can materialized out of thin air. Moxie took a sip of her champagne. Bubbly was so much nicer than piss water.

"Does anyone want to join me?" Axel asked the group.

Moxie's brother was not one to turn down an offer for a beer, especially from the man of his dreams.

"Don't have to ask me twice," he said.

"Do you need another one—" Mary fuckin' Poppins, alright.

Mick tossed his empty can into the trash bin before accepting the new one. "Yeah, could use another."

"Fuckin' alcoholics," Moxie said whilst shaking her head. Champagne bottle still in hand. Classiest lady around town.

Axel somehow found another spare beer to offer her. "Do you want one—"

She would rather drink swamp water. "I'll pass, thanks."

It took no time for the boys to tap their cans against each other, shotgun the contents, and, at least in Axel's case, crush it against his forehead. Even without standing in front of a mirror, Moxie could feel the disgust written all over her face. The only thing he had going for him was that he made sure the empty can went into the recycling bin.

"Do you both always finish this fast—" Cruella asked.

"I do love a Bud Light," Axel replied, blissfully unaware as per usual.

"That's not—" Eddie paused. Sighed. "Okay."

"I think we're gonna miss our tour if we keep shotgunning the worst beer on the planet." Moxie took another sip.

"Who's got Molsons—"

"Moxie's right," Eddie interrupted him. "We should go. Cruella, lead the way."

"Uber is on the way," Cruella replied. "Might want to finish that before you get inside the car."

"I have more if anyone needs to toss them," Axel said.

Eddie looked flabbergasted. "Where?"

"Why?" Moxie asked. One level above flabbergasted.

"It's New Orleans," was his answer. Moxie wasn't sure if she respected him or not for it.

"As long as we don't get kicked out of the car, we're good."

Cruella looked only half convinced they were going to make it to the other destination. But nobody could tell by the crooked smile on Axel's face.

"I promise."

...

As the daughter of a King, Moxie knew all too well that if they were in the first thirty minutes of a horror movie, it would be a complete coin toss as to who would make it out on the other side unscathed. Unfortunately, Eddie was the only person of color present so she would likely be taken out first. Bonus points for also being queer. The rest of the gays would have to duke it out for survival. (Moxie would fall victim to the bury your gays if only because she would sacrifice herself for the hot blonde.) Axel the cishet-white-guy would probably survive. Moxie didn't want to think about how he would tell their story on the talk show interview tour.

Everyone besides Cruella looked around confused. The supposed tour group for the haunted house looming in front of them was nowhere to be found. Moxie tapped the side of her bag to make sure she still had a bottle of hand sanitizer at the ready, though she wasn't sure if it was strong enough to protect against whatever was growing inside the building that appeared abandoned.

"I thought you said you booked a tour guide?" Moxie asked. "Nobody is here?"

Cruella was a little too quick to respond. The bright light from her phone emphasized the glossiness of her plump pink lips. "They're running a little late. We can probably go inside and wait, though."

"Why would we wait inside the haunted house?" Mick asked.

Cruella ignored his reasonable question and pointed at a window. "Axel, do you think you can... I don't know... reach up there?"

It only took a second for him to respond. "I could... Maybe get in if I had a boost."

If there was one thing the world could count on, it was two bisexual women giving a white man an undeserved boost. (Moxie sent them mental kisses for volunteering so she didn't have to.) Eddie and Cruella leaned against the side of the house with their fingers laced together. Axel, likely having not anticipated their eagerness, looked ready to argue against his own suggestion, but understood that was not a fight he would win. (She imagined he would lose any other kind of fight against Eddie and Cruella, to be honest.)

Against all odds—if the odds were Moxie's faith in his ability to not fall straight on his ass—Axel managed to hoist himself up on the window sill.

"Try not to get tetanus!" Eddie called.

Mick was too focused on something—

"We can see your orange boxers," he said.

"Is that a shadow or a hole—" Moxie scrunched her nose. She didn't even want to know the answer to that question. There was no reason for her to ask. She hoped nobody heard her.

"It... might be both," Eddie answered.

"Let us know when you—"

Cruella's request was cut short by the painful sound of Axel flopping onto the other side of the window. A trail of groans ensued.

"—get down."

Axel grunted. Or threw up. Moxie wasn't sure.

"Got down."

Moxie sighed before trudging over to the front door that she finally realized no one had even attempted to open. Like a normal person. Like a normal group of normal people with normal plans would have. (Ridiculous, she thought to herself. Normal people wouldn't have been there in the first place, waiting to get killed by the masked serial killer or whoever was waiting for them on the other side.)

The doorknob twisted open with ease. Probably the only working part of the whole house.

"So, yeah." Moxie pushed it open with a creak. On second thought. "This was open the whole time."

Eddie winced. "... Ouch."

Moxie attempted to enter the house before she was quickly shoved back, nearly stumbling over her feet. The door swung back shut. Right before she caught a determined snapshot of Axel's face, possibly with a spider web hanging on for dear life from his chin.

After a few seconds, he reopened the door.

"Welcome to mi casa," he announced with a sweep of his arm. "You may enter."

Moxie had never wanted to smack someone in the face more, but she refrained from doing so because she realized how impressive it was that he had made it out alive for that long despite all the evidence supporting otherwise.

"Are you sure—" Moxie deadpanned.

"Boo!"

Well, fuck. They really were going to die, weren't they?

Everyone was scared. Axel by whoever had jumped out of the shadows. Everyone else by Axel's subsequent scream.

"Flying fish on a fucking spatula—" Mick yelped.

"What the Jesus H. Shit fuck—" Axel screamed.

Moxie only just managed to dodge a flying Axel—not a fish on a spatula, though easily mistaken—as he soared through the air and into Eddie's arms. She was the only reason they managed to remain upright, with one hand on the railing.

"This was everything I could have hoped for," Cruella laughed.

"What the hell—" Axel gasped.

He fell straight to the ground once Eddie let go of him. Ouch, indeed.

Cruella scrambled. "I mean—Oh my god, who is this man! Must be a ghost!"

Mick squinted his eyes before placing a hand on his chest. The guilty party walked out of the shadows with a shit-eating grin on his face. "

"Bronx, you little shit."

"I think I got lost on my way to the airport," Bronx said. "Fancy running into y'all here."

"That was—" Axel finally peeled himself off the ground. "—kind of illegal emphasis on the Cruel-ella."

Moxie side-eyed Eddie for her choice of men. To Eddie's credit, she looked like she was constantly side-eyeing herself whenever Axel was around and being, well, himself.

"Clever," Moxie managed.

"Hi. I'm Eddie," she said to Bronx.

"I'm dead inside," Axel said.

"Don't dead open inside, huh." Bronx was... Mick's type, for sure.

Cruella giggled into her hand. "Stop."

"This jackass would be Bronx Harlow," Mick said. "That... would be Axel."

"The lesbian." Axel was infamous.

"I do like women," said the fake lesbian in question.

Mick rolled his eyes. Heterosexuality was so overrated.

"I fucking explained this to you—" Eddie nearly groaned.

"You can't expect me to remember everything," Axel said.

Moxie looked at Eddie a little more sympathetically. There was no doubt she had tried her best. It wasn't her fault that the cishet man next to her was thirty years behind on learning about queer culture.

"Was this not discussed just last night—"

"... Well. Maybe."

"And they made me go through concussion protocol." Eddie sighed. "Worried about my memory."

Moxie didn't move an inch. "How many fingers am I holding up, Ax?"

She fucking regretted the nickname. Didn't want him to be under the impression that she supported him in his current state.

"Um." He looked around for too long. "I'm guessing four—"

Both Eddie and Mick were equally as disappointed in their taste of men.

"Wow, he really did hit his head on the way down." Moxie shook her head. "Might as well take him out back and bury him."

"I'm not the ghost," he said. "New York over there is."

"Who?" Mick asked.

"New York. The Bronx. Bronx. Ghost. Boo.,"

Bronx shook his head. Another baffled gay man. "I'm from—"

Cruella slapped him. "He's from New Jersey."

He narrowed his eyes. "How is that any better—"

Axel perked up in an instant. Moxie hadn't the slightest clue what had gotten into him. Maybe all of the supernatural energy in the air had electrocuted him awake.

"Are those notes of... Hoboken?"

"... Hoboken no jokin'?" Bronx offered.

"Much better," Cruella said.

"Better like cheddar." It went without saying that that was Axel.

Moxie glanced back and forth between them. "What is going on—"

"It's a..." Cruella smiled. "New Jersey thing."

"Fuckin' go Devils." Axel was on a roll. Or, at least, he thought he was.

"Islanders all the way, man." Mick shook his head.

"Hawai'i has a hockey team?" Moxie asked.

Axel smiled at her. "Close. Good try."

She glared back at him. "Don't forget to pick that used condom off your pants."

Moxie almost regretted pointing it out because it was that disgusting and she wasn't even a hundred percent sure that was what it was. But once she heard him shriek and jump into the light to get a better view of the offending accessory, she decided she was rather pleased with the results.

Axel kicked his leg out trying to shake it off. Unfortunately for Eddie, that meant he almost touched her with it.

Moxie was a woman who supported women so she smiled a little too much at the sight of Eddie slapping him. She full-blown laughed when he stumbled down the stairs. He somehow managed to catch himself before falling all the way down, but when he tried to hastily run back up and pretend as if nothing had happened in the first place, his toe got caught on one of the steps and he fell once again.

He was swift in getting back up, but he was nothing if not truly unforgettable in his own right.

Axel exhaled before looking back down at his leg once again, careful not to return any of the many looks directed at him. "Well. Got it."

Moxie decided she was done and started back inside. Like she had been before he had pushed her back. "Let's get this over with before one of us loses a leg or something."

Mick followed behind her. "Permission to say something mildly inappropriate?"

"Permission to say the inappropriate thing you were going to say no matter what."

"I think my dick just shriveled up and died."

Moxie laughed and rubbed his shoulder, consolingly. "Is this your first time experiencing true heartbreak?"

"Is it a red flag if I say I'm still attracted to him?"

"Yes." She nodded. "But we all have our fatal flaws."

Mick at least had the decency to look disappointed by his own admission. He ducked his head in shame and pushed forward with Bronx trailing behind, amused by the whole ordeal.

"Hurry up, Bawstin boy," Moxie called back, not bothering to look over her shoulder.

"My ass hurts, Moxie—"

"When did I ask—"

...

"I didn't realize you were being serious about the ice cream."

Moxie stared up at the sign of the ice cream shop as ominously as she had the "haunted" house. The only reason she managed to tear her eyes away was the way Cruella's hand brushed up against hers.

"We all deserve a little treat sometimes," Cruella said.

"Is..." Mick squinted as she surveyed the case. The options were as extensive as a Cheesecake Factory menu. "Olive oil and garlic flavored ice cream really considered a treat?"

"Have you never had aglio e olio pasta?" Axel asked.

Moxie hadn't the faintest idea what he had just said.

"Not in ice cream form—" Eddie was aghast. Her reaction provided the much-needed context clues to help Moxie decipher Axel's accent.

"What kind of pasta, did you say?" Moxie asked.

"Aglio e olio?"

At the end of the day, Mick was her partner in crime, and he caught on immediately to what she was doing. "Can you try that one more time but without the yodeling?"

Moxie giggled.

"Aglio e olio, eh?"

The King siblings shared a look. He somehow managed to make even that sound like it had come straight out of the Boston Harbor.

Eddie was preoccupied with picking out her flavor selection. Whether that was because she had problems making decisions or because she didn't want to risk secondhand embarrassment, Moxie couldn't be too sure.

"What the hell is a fluffernutter—"

Axel, Bronx, and Cruella all looked devastatingly offended.

"Pardon?" Axel asked.

"What letter comes after Q, Mick?" Moxie asked.

She had no idea why they had all acted as if Eddie had torn off her mask and revealed herself to be the killer. But even if Moxie did care, she was too busy making fun of Axel to do anything about it.

"Ah."

"How do you not know what a fluffernutter is?" Bronx asked. As if more people in the world knew what the fuck a fluffernutter was than not.

"Well, I said fluffernutter. And it's a made-up word."

Moxie almost blurted out that all words were made up, but she was on Eddie's side so she shut her mouth.

"How dare you?"

"It's literally a delicacy." Evidently, Cruella had taken Axel's side. Like Moxie had said many times, everyone had their flaws. "How are you all this uncultured?"

"Does it have something to do with whatever the hell a jimmy is?" Eddie asked.

"Jimmies," Cruella corrected before clearing her throat. "I mean... yeah. Jimmies."

"How have you never had Jimmies?" Axel somehow kept going. "Did your parents hate you?"

Moxie snuck a glance at Eddie while trying not to draw any unwanted attention her way. The boxer looked mildly uncomfortable but suppressed it as much as possible. Nobody else seemed to notice. Moxie wished she had a cigarette to give her.

"Um—"

"Top your ice cream off with fuckin' Jimmies and it heals something. What's wrong with you?"

"That... sounds like a euphemism," Moxie interjected. Seemed like the easiest way to prevent Axel from digging himself further into the hole Eddie looked as if she wanted to toss herself into.

"I think I've topped off a Jimmy before," Mick said.

The innocent family sitting not more than ten feet away from them did not go unnoticed. Moxie elbowed her brother in the stomach.

"Rainbow or chocolate?" Axel asked innocently. "'Cause the rainbow ones are... incredible."

Eddie looked ready to smack herself in the face. "That's not—"

"We're a rainbow family," Mick answered. Well, he wasn't wrong. Not a straight King in their house.

"Are we getting cones with Jimmies on them?"

Axel pointed at the display case with the different options for cones on top—regular, waffle, and waffle with sprinkles. Moxie kind of hated knowing what they were talking about now.

"Axel, what part of that stand is a Jimmy?" Eddie asked. She sounded afraid of receiving an answer.

He placed his hand on her shoulder like he was educating a child and pointed at the culprit. "You know, this is exhausting."

"I'll have a scoop of cookie dough in a cup, please," Moxie requested. "No Jimmy."

The employee looked ready to quit on the spot. "Anything for anyone else? There's a line."

The death glares being directed at them by the other customers were enough to get the group going. Everyone quickly recited their orders while one of them—Moxie wasn't sure who as she was too busy eating her ice cream—handed their credit card off. But, despite their sudden burst of efficiency, her brother had decided they were simply incapable of being anything other than complete pains in the ass.

"Hey, Axel?" Mick asked.

Axel lifted his head. A spoonful of fluffernutter ice cream fresh off his lips. "Yeah?"

"I double dog dare you to drink that—"

The that in question was... hot dog-flavored soda in a whimsical glass bottle. There wasn't enough retro aesthetic in the world to make something like that look appetizing.

And yet, the man in question didn't look entirely too turned off from the novelty idea.

"I—"

Now that she thought about it, who was Moxie to not play along?

"He actually triple dog dares you."

"I—It's my birthday."

"No it's not," Eddie said.

"I bought so many drinks last night—" Axel whined.

And?

"What day was that again?" Eddie pushed. "In numbers, please."

"And theoretically if you did, you should have because you're a man," Moxie said, "and it's Women's History Month."

Axel wasn't weaseling his way out of that one when standing toe-to-toe with a lesbian. A real lesbian. The one with the damn good carabiner.

He sighed. "Give me the tonic."

Mick paid for this one and handed it off quickly. Axel reluctantly accepted the drink. Because Mick was fuckin' spork of a human, he took a too-big whiff as well. Everyone else looked ready to barf just watching him do it.

"Oh, that's fuckin' foul."

Axel swallowed. Hard. "I'm not drinking that in here."

"There is a line," the employee repeated.

"Take that outside, babe." Cruella nudged him toward the exit.

Eddie was swift in taking away his ice cream cone before it could become collateral damage. Their group funneled out of the ice cream shop—the employee had a distinct look of relief as he watched them leave—as Axel's complexion paled more and more the closer he got to follow through on his triple dog dare. He looked so sick that for the briefest moment, Moxie almost regretted egging him on.

Almost.

Her hand flew to the carabiner on her bag like a knight reaching for the hilt of their sword.

"Bottoms up." Mick continued his streak of being a little shit. He tossed the bottle at Axel who managed not to drop it, despite the odds.

The man must have thought he was better off going hard and fast. Axel knocked it back like it was one of his Bud Lights and everyone made some sort of reaction between wincing and gagging.

When he finished almost a quarter of the bottle, he released one of the most heinous belches Moxie had ever heard in her life, and that was saying something considering Mick was her brother.

"'Scuse me. Sorry."

Moxie wanted to plug her nose but she didn't have anything to help. "I have never been so happy to be a lesbian as I am now."

"I..." Cruella paused. "... don't think a Hei Hei bandaid will fix that."

Axel held out the bottle and everyone else stepped away like he was handing them an active grenade. "Anyone else want to try—"

"I swear to god if you bring that any closer to me—" Moxie backed away quickly.

Cruella took another step toward her and away from Axel. "I can't defend you with this, I'm sorry."

Bronx evidently had less decorum than Moxie as his hand was pressed tight against his hose. "Are you sure you weren't possessed at the haunted house 'cause it smells like something died in your mouth."

"Why would you drink that?" Mick asked. "Yuck."

Axel didn't spare him a glance. "Does anyone have any gum—"

No one volunteered any. Either because nobody had gum or they were afraid of standing any closer to him. Suddenly, Moxie thought better of him now that he wasn't right beside her. Huh. Maybe distance did make the heart grow fonder.

Eddie took the reins and shoved Axel's ice cream into his face instead.

"Um. Better?"

Axel shook his head. "Ice cream is ruined. Jimmies can't fix this. Fluffernutters are dead."

"Shouldn't have bottomed for the hot dog soda," Moxie said.

"Who—Why did they make that?"

"Why did you take such a big sip—" Eddie questioned.

"Can someone cut my tongue off, please—"

"Oh, check this out." Mick pointed at a chalkboard hanging on the wall of the ice cream shop. "Challenge of the week: finish a bottle of hot dog tonic in five seconds and win a special prize." Fucking hell. "Axel, man, I quadruple dog dare you to—"

"He really disappointed you, huh," Moxie said. There was no way he would suggest that if he thought there was a chance that their love could be realized.

"When in New Orleans."

"Why do I—" Axel groaned. He held a fist to his mouth and gagged behind it.

Cruella stepped forward bravely and almost placed her hand on his shoulder before pulling it away. "Axel... If you really need me to tap in—"

Moxie interjected quickly, "You will do no such thing."

At that moment, though Axel probably wished it was all just a dream, Bronx reentered the circus with the same annoyed employee trailing reluctantly behind him. He appeared to be carrying a stopwatch in one hand and a brand new hot dog soda water in the other.

"Who's doing it?"

Eddie pointed straight at Axel. As did everyone else. One of the kids sitting at a table outside joined in as well.

"Fuckin' chowderheads—"

"Okay, you've got five seconds," the probably soon-to-be-ex employee said. "Can't spit anything up, can't keep it in your mouth. Ready?" There was no time for Axel to mentally prepare for what was to come, and there was something strangely terrifying about that.

"You hear that, buddy?" Mick asked. "Gotta swallow."

Bronx handed off the grenade with a thumbs up.

"Um. I—" Axel burped. "Got it."

"Alright. And three, two, one, go."

Moxie didn't have to hand it to him for downing the drink in one go and without vomiting in the process, but she could begrudgingly acknowledge it. She wasn't that impressed because only someone as pea-brained as a man could agree to something like that. (See: Maverick.) But, well, he didn't let Mick get the last laugh.

Mostly because he probably didn't even realize Mick was acting out like a scorned lover. Even as his other current boy toy was standing there, laughing along with him.

"Congratulations on your outstanding achievement. I'll be right back with your prize," said the employee. It was easily the most unenthused congratulations she had heard in her life.

Axel leaned against Eddie for support. "Remind me never to turn thirty again."

"I'm so sorry. I need you to breathe the other way."

Eddie poked his face in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, that meant directly into Cruella's path, and whatever momentary pity had come over her when she volunteered to take over if he needed help had whisked away into the evening breeze.

"I'm not sorry," Cruella said. "Please breathe in literally any other direction."

Eddie and Cruella exchanged one quick glance before shoving him at Mick. He was, after all, the reason they were all in that mess.

"I don't want—"

"Suffer," Eddie said.

"It is—" Moxie backed away from him, "—your fault."

"I didn't invite him."

The employee finally returned, somehow looking even worse than before. "And here's your prize—our world-famous fluffernutter."

"Oh, a fluffternutter." Axel looked like Eddie had just flat-out punched him in the stomach. That might have hurt less, actually. "Um. Thank yo—"

Thankfully, it happened after the employee left to retrieve his prize, otherwise Axel wouldn't have the great pleasure of eating a fucking fluffernutter after chugging two bottles of hot dog soda.

Mick King was due for his just deserts—Moxie could even say just desserts if she wanted to cringe at herself but she had more wit than to embarrass herself in front of them—when Axel threw up over his shoes. He didn't react much. Only just vaguely looked to reconsider every decision he had ever made in his life that led him to that very moment.

"Those were Dior," he said.

Moxie laughed. He was still just her little brother after all. "And now they're hot dog water."