Page 66 of Demons Dig Donuts

“It’s fine, she wins.”

“Spoilers!” Gammy screamed.

“Sorry!”

CHAPTER

NINE

By the time the finale was over, Dill had unpickled himself and Gammy declared that the caboose juice was ready. It was unclear if it had been ready earlier and she’d simply been too sucked into the show to realize it sooner.

Either way, it tasted fucking awful.

At least Indy had plenty of booze to wash it down.

He was pretty buzzed by then, and Gammy insisted that he eat something because he hadn’t had anything since his coffee that he didn’t even get to finish. Food didn’t sound like a bad idea considering the juice was giving him the worst indigestion and sloshing around horribly in his stomach. He didn’t know if that was normal or not, but he didn’t want to question any possible side effects with Mr. Heiss hovering so close by.

Indy opened the fridge, finding it completely empty.

There weren’t even condiments.

“What the hell?” he asked. “Demons don’t eat?”

“We do,” Mr. Heiss replied. “But we do not cook.”

“Like you can’t learn.” Gammy scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Typical.”

“Have you known many demons?”

“I’ve known many men. So, either get me some groceries or get this boy some Grub Bub or whatever it’s called. He needs to eat.”

“Fine.” Mr. Heiss glanced at his claws as if he didn’t care in the slightest and yet he asked, “Well? What do you want?”

“Oh! Are we eating on your tab, sir?” Indy batted his eyelashes sweetly. “Because in that case—”

“Tell me what you want to eat.”

“Ass. But not yours. Because you suck.”

Mr. Heiss smirked and let the very tip of his tongue flick out over his lips.

Wait, it looked like…

No.

There was no way Mr. Heiss had more than one tongue.

Indy ignored how his face heated up, indignantly continuing, “How about pizza? Can you handle that?”

Mr. Heiss plucked a donut off the tray on the counter. It had rainbow sprinkles and bright pink icing. “What kind?”

“Black olives, pineapple, and mushrooms.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. It’s my favorite pizza, so can you make that happen or not?”

“Yes.” Mr. Heiss snapped his fingers.