Page 62 of Healed

Then

“Luke, you cannot go out there looking like that,” I laughed at him.

He looked down at his outfit, grinning. “I happen to think I look phenomenal,” he said, wiggling his hips so his ginger tail swished back and forth.

“You realise this is a Halloween party, yes?”

“I do. And I think the true horror here is that you didn’t wear the outfit I requested. The fox isn’t complete without his hound.”

“I’m happy as I am,” I laughed back.

Yes, my outfit was very generic, but dressing as Morticia Addams was much easier to explain to my dad when I returned home later this evening. Dressed as a dog would raise some eyebrows.

“Spoilsport. You may have spoiled my outfit, but you shall not spoil my entrance,” he announced dramatically. In the next second, he straightened his shoulders, puffed out his furry chest, and marched out of the door and down the stairs.

And the entire bar fell into silence upon his entrance.

“Fuck me,” Dante barked from the back of the bar. “What the fuck have you come as?” Looking over at him, I saw he was dressed as Frankenstein’s Monster, and Laura—always by his side—was dressed as a dead Little Bo Peep.

“I am a fox,” Vienna said, as though it was completely obvious and self-explanatory.

Obvious, yes. He was covered head to toe in ginger fur, he had ears, paws, a tail and even a snout.

Self-explanatory? Not so much.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mama hissed at him, racing over as though he were doing something scandalous.

She was dressed as a generic witch.

Suited her, actually.

“I’m attending the party,” Luke replied.

“Looking like that?”

“Lighten up, Mama. Give me a kiss,” Luke said, bending down low and offering her his cheek.

She responded by slapping him around the back of the head. “I shall do no such thing. You look ridiculous.”

And then, for reasons I still cannot fathom, Luke bleated at her like a sheep.

“Well, foxes don’t bloody bleat, do they?” Mama tutted.

“Alright, David Attenborough, calm down.”

She slapped him again.

“Right, that’s it,” Vienna hissed, stomping behind the bar and grabbing the corded phone there. “Hello? RSPCA? Yes, I’d like to report animal cruelty, please.”

“Give it a rest, lad,” Crash laughed, finishing pouring a pint and grabbing the phone from Vienna’s hands, placing it back on the wall.

“Right then,” he said, still laughing as he looked Vienna up and down. “Come on and explain the outfit choice to me.”

“Have you ever seen The Fox and the Hound?” Vienna asked.

“Once or twice—fair few years ago, though.”

“Then I think I’ve made my point,” Vienna said.