Finally the night of the full moon arrived and never had Shaliver been more incensed. He reminded her of an pissed off honey badger. Every step or movement was filled with aggression. When bumping into her eyeball pillowed he knocked it across the room. Doing the same to Vroomy if she came too close to him. As the sun setted outside her train of thought was interrupted with angry grumblings from her bed. He had taken an opportunity to bring his one sided conversation underneath her comforter.

Maybe he's just grumpier because he's hungry?

When her parents finally settled in to slumber she checked their supplies. Gas masks, phone, mittens, stickers, Han's granola bar for good luck and the last of Mrs.Ginger's gift candy. Shaliver was starting to remind her of an angry bull the way he was pawing at her floor. With everything prepared the two snuck into the back before biking off into the night.

Crowds of people were slowly limping down the avenues of Old Fate. Crackling pavement and exhausted groans bellowed. The two were able to avoid the crowds thanks to Shaliver's familiarity with the area. He pounced nimbly around Birch as she tried to keep up with his pace. It wasn't long before they reached where the meeting would take place.

Before Fatemore had a name there was one business that kept the location thriving. Drivel's Storage was the primary place where goods were kept before being shipped on trains to bigger cities. It was humongous compared to other locations of that time. A professional football field in size or bigger when last checked. Most of the city was working there when it first opened and was the reason why Fatemore was on the map at all. The only reason it closed was due to another being built in modern day New Fate. And with the train being shut down they were quickly bankrupted. A final blow to the original Fatemore.

Now it was one last matter of waiting before delivering justice. She hid her bike behind the dumpster before joining Shaliver on the roof of what appeared to be a body shop. He was clawing at the metal roofing, piercing it to her surprise. His reflection, though warped by the rusting, was as contemplative as it was vindictive.

"You ready to save the city?" He didn't respond. As if he were stuck in thought.

She snapped her fingers repeatedly, "Hey! Wake up! Are you there?" Shaliver suddenly hissed, finally responding.

"You can't be acting like this while we're in there. If you keep acting this way you're gonna end up as one track minded as them." She points over to a distant crowd of followers. They walked nearly perfectly in sync but would occasionally trip over leftover beer bottles.

"Is there something more to this? You've never been this mad before." Shaliver shrank back a bit before glancing over to his reflection. Now he just appeared contemplative. He took a few minutes to talk.

"Before that let me ask you, how old do you think I am?"

Huh?

The entire time she had known him and not once did she ever think to ask that. When first introducing him to how modern phones worked he squinted at it like an old man. This was a pattern with plenty of the latest in technology. Television, video games, cars and even those solar powered scooters had him curious. She had to explain how cameras function just so he wouldn't be convinced they were cloning him.

This question also gave her the ultimate comeback.

"In cat years?"

He slapped the back of her head with his tail.

"Hehe. Seriously though, you come off as the older than dirt type."

"You're not entirely wrong then. Take a guess."

He must be pretty old if he doesn't get how a camera works so, "Like around a hundred years old? Maybe one hundred and twenty?"

He laughed, "Older."

"Hundred and Thirty?"

"Older."

"Hundred and Forty Five?"

"Older."

Birch's eyes widened. "What?"

Shaliver laughed into his paw at the perplexed girl. "How about this, how long ago was what you called The French Revolution?"

"Uh," she turned away to search it up on her phone. A quick Oogle search brought up that time. Minusing it from the current date she was shocked by what it came to.

"Around two hundred and twenty years ago?"

He nods, "Maybe a little older than that is when I first awoke."

Awoke?

"Does that mean you lived in Europe then? Hold on... Did you see it happen!?" Birch leaned over to the cat amazed.

"Oui, imbécile."

She pouted, "I may have nearly failed French. But even I know what that means."

Birch started to take the supplies out of her backpack. Shaliver joined her in picking up his mask.

"I was there when it happened. Experienced it too. Let me tell you if there was one thing that began that revolution it was one thing. Hunger."

His stomach growled.

He said wincing, "Bread. The life blood of that country became too much to afford. Before then handouts were already hard to come by. I had to take extreme measures just to eat, not being alone in rummaging in garbage for a meal. Meanwhile those nobles ate their fill and more. It was very entertaining to watch them finally be dragged from their little palaces. To hear those women screaming for the queen's head."

Again his stomach growled, causing him to let out a pained groan. "My first lesson I ever learned was hunger hurts. Without food you lived to suffer. So when this man comes along and makes it impossible to fulfill then he has crossed the line. I don't think shaving him is enough for me anymore. He needs to suffer."

His shadow grew in the full moon's glow. Shaliver's claws had pierced the old metal as he finished his speech. From her backpack she took out the granola bar, offering it to him. He pushes it away, yet she insists.

"You'll have your mask on, so it should stay down this time. Better not to go in on an empty stomach." She humbly smiled at the faux feline. Just like when they had first met. He pulls away the bandana around his mouth before swallowing it, wrapper and all. Both dawn their gas masks as they watch the last of the procession enter the building.

Let's get meddling.

Reaching the back it was even more guarded than last time. Those "assistants" were far more serious than the ones before. Shaliver pulled her towards an alternative which had been prepared. It took time to get all the pre-set garbage bags to reveal the entryway. Most of it was broken wood from the crates that likely filled the building, draped over with torn curtains and small piles of loose brick. Didn't take much effort to fit through the small claw-marked hole made just for them. Once inside she found their view blocked by more crates, who from looking at the logo on the postage were new.

Following behind the faux feline brought them to a most perfect hiding spot. He had hollowed out one of the crates with three holes. Two for different height ones for peeking, and one for his tail. Just like before candles and lamps brought luminosity to the large space. There was still old machinery from when it was still open but was clearly unable to function. The makeshift stage also used what was crates as a base. Though this was nearly hidden by all the red carpet they laid over it.

If Lou's mom was not brainwashed she would have called out every fire hazard in here.

What stood out most was the iconic cauldron appearing again, except it was far larger. The assistants were stirring the contents inside while others were still assembling the stage. Though the masks helped, the smell from it still reached them making both of them retch. She swore to herself she would not let that man ruin cinnamon any further. When a silence fell over the crowd Shaliver began inching his tail out of the crate hole.

It slithered understated as the man made his appearance. His sauntering steps echoed with the acoustics of the tall ceilings. From behind the cauldron he rises and rises till he stands above everyone.

"Greetings Followers!"

The people cheer louder than before. Their manic expressions made it hard to decipher how much of it was joy or just how their faces were. Cassius however was very easy to understand even from the peeping hole. That smile may have been the most genuine but it was far from well meaning.

"It is almost Halloween! Perfect timing to fully introduce this wonderful product to this wonderfully little city! Thanks to your support I can be immortalized in beauty forever! I will forever remember the sacrifices you have made to help me achieve this." A crocodile tear falls down his right most angular cheek.

This was about when she could finally see his tail hide behind Cassius's leg.

"Other smaller towns have done this before but this is a first for a city. And the results couldn't have gone better. Soon the Bitty Bites phenomena will spread to even the nastiest naysayers." Shaliver had arrived ar his hips, only a little over thirty centimeters away from the whistle.

"While I have your attention, from this day forward you will never-," Shaliver reaches for the whistle, "-shop at Fatemore Supermarket again!"

"What's that?" A man in the front points at Cassius's chest. Shaliver grabs the whistle but fails to get it off his neck. Cassius falls off the makeshift steps and breaks through the stage floor. Like measuring tape he swiftly pulls but feels someone grab his tail. He yelps as his body slams on the box wall. Suddenly people are smashing against the walls of the box.

From her backpack Birch gets out the Stress Sock. Though instead of it having a stress ball she borrowed one of her father's hacky sacks. Placing the protection stickers on it she spoke the special evocation as planks were torn away. From the small openings made she peaked at their ravenous eyes. The blacks of theirs were so small it was nearly not there at all.

She threw her bag at them just as an opening was big enough to fit through. Using a man's back as a bounce spring she leapt on stage just as Cassius finally resurfaced. Her face was flushed with red. Assistants came from both directions but Birch's small size made it easy to maneuver around. From behind the hulking figures she watched him attempt to run backstage. Swinging the Stress Sock at his assistants did nothing so she decided they weren't of relevance. Instead she rolled between their legs and after the main attraction himself.

Shaliver could only watch as Birch disappeared behind the stage, being forced to fight off these lunatics. He had seen many zombie movies thanks to her and now can relate to those characters being swarmed. Handling one human was easy but hundreds? Maybe if he could let loose but that would make an even bigger mess to clean. Instead it had to become a game of cat and mouse. Only the mice were trying to kill him.

Bounding from person to another was alright but some made grabs for his tail. Worse was when they tried for the mask. For the few seconds it was completely off his face his senses would be overpowered by the strong stench. Breaking from them didn't stop the returning nausea from worsening as he bounced.

Get that stupid whistle so I don't have to regurgitate that granola bar.