Working Foxes (HH)
#9 of The Hockey Hunk Season 7
Working Foxes (HH)
THE HOCKEY HUNK HHS07E06
by
Gruffy
2017
*
Hello, and welcome to the Hockey Hunk!
I hope you've had a nice week, and that this new chapter in the story will give this one a good start. I want to thank you for all the feedback you have given me over the past few weeks, and I do hope that you'll keep it coming :) I'll try to keep the stories coming, too, of course, since that's what I do!
Remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
Next chapter on Monday next week!
Cheers!
*
I worked halfheartedly until eleven when my bladder told me that I should visit the bathroom. This time I welcomed the need to go, since my stomach felt almost back to normal, if empty on both ends since I hadn't eaten either. The idea of a lunch was attractive, but I was a bit worried about triggering another attack.
I slunk out of the room and into the staff bathroom. This visit was a bearable one. Nothing to report there.
"Hey again!"
The tiger was coming down the corridor just when I stepped out of the bathroom and pushed the door shut. Thankfully no poisonous clouds followed me out this time around. He was still wearing his crocodile coat.
"Hello," I told to my boss of sorts.
"Ready for lunch?" he asked and gestured towards the door to the break room.
"Uh..." I muttered, "Sure. I need something to drink."
Maybe I looked a bit rough, because the tiger started to frown.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah,"I said. I wasn't sure if it convinced him. "Just a bit hungry. You knew it."
"Then let's see what you've brought in!" he smiled.
He barged into the staff room. His words reminded me that I hadn't taken anything to eat with me. Food had been the last thing on my mind when I was leaving the apartment. All I hoped to get in the staff room might be a glass of water. Perhaps I could go out to the food court and buy some sort of an extra bland sandwich.
I slunk into the room after the tiger. He put his coat up to a hook on the wall. He was dressed like a teacher underneath it, pants and a shirt, no tie, though. The raccoon wore a tie. He wasn't about now. He probably still had a client. It did smell of coffee in the room, fresh stuff. It made me want to have some, even though my stomach would surely disagree. It would be best to stick to the water from the tap.
We crowded the kitchen. The tiger took a Tupperware out of the fridge and put it into the microwave. I just took a mug and got it filled.
"You're welcome to the coffee, Tate," the tiger said.
My fingers clenched around the mug. Why was he now talking to me shit like that? I knew I could drink the fucking coffee if I wanted to but I didn't want to and I didn't want to tell him why I thought that coffee was a bad idea. Didn't need even more people thinking about what a poor excuse of a fox I was.
"Thanks," I said, instead. "Maybe later. Trying to cut down."
I thought that was an okay excuse. He still looked a bit suspicious about it. I shuffled over to the table. I didn't really want to stay there but I was sure that my behavior was already weird enough. I didn't need any extra drama.
The tiger wasn't worried about the coffee, beyond pouring himself some. His ears flickered at the hum of the microwave on the shelf above the sink. I was starting to smell it, some sort of a chicken dish. It was making me feel even more hungry. Damn it.
"Work going well?"
So he insisted on making small talk now?
"Ah, sure," I said. "Still building up the database. It's gonna take some time yet."
He smiled.
"I'm glad to hear it's going well," he said.
He probably didn't really understand what he paid me for, so I didn't say anything else. He was probably just trying to keep himself busy until his food was done, even if that involved chatting with a stupid fox.
"Yeah," I said.
The door opened and Clayton appeared. The coyote was busy, it looked to me, talking to someone with his ears perked up cheerfully.
"...okay, here, yeah, I found Mister Crane for you..."
He stepped inside the break room and with him came a fox. He was wearing a gray suit with a somewhat weird green tie. The fox's paws were busy with a huge basket that was wrapped with a green ribbon the same color as the tie, and he also had a suitcase that wasn't green.
"Mister Crane!" he announced into the room.
"Yes?" asked the tiger.
The fox walked through the room and over to him without paying any attention to me. He put his suitcase down to the floor and extended a paw.
"Lysander Kane, good morning to you, sir!" the fox said. "Nice to meet you!"
The tiger accepted the paw and gave it a polite shake.
"Patrick Crane," he said. "The partner."
"Very good, very good!" the fox smiled widely and wagged his tail. "I represent the Kendrick Company, and I am here to tell you about our wonderful new range of clinical ophthalmological pharmaceuticals."
Figures. Of course the guy was a door to door sales fox. He was too cheerful and overbearing, even for a fox. I'd known many foxes, good and bad ones. I knew what foxes were like. This one fit the bill.
"...and here is a little gift, compliments of the Kendrick Company!"
He lifted the basket, wrapped in cellophane and the green ribbons. I realized that the plastic film was cloudy with condensation from something within. A proper sniff through the scent of the microwaving chicken told me that it was something baked.
"Well I'll say," the tiger chuckled at the sight of the gift basket, "that's a lot of bagels!"
So that's what it was. I tried to maintain my invisibility on the little table while the salesfox chatted up the boss. He pushed the basket of bagels down to the kitchen counter and took his case.
"I would like to talk to you about Syloxal, a new cycloplegic agent with a very favorable pharmacological profile, if you have some time for me."
True to the type, he didn't wait for the tiger to answer before he already had his case open and was pulling out papers, an iPad, and what looked like pawfuls of green-colored trash. Then the fox started a pitch that I listened to half-heartedly. I didn't understand most of it, because he kept bombarding the tiger with all sorts of medical talk and terminology that went straight over my head. I did feel a hungry attraction to the bagels, although I wasn't sure if I was entitled to have any of them.
"...is that fresh bagels I smelled out there?"
The raccoon guy Ashley came in too, his nose high and perked up at the prospect of free treats, I thought. His belly looked like he ate a basketful of bagels every day, despite his wife's efforts to make him lose weight. I had heard all about that in my time working there.
"Indeed it was!" the fox chirped. "Lysander Kane, Kendrick Company!"
They shook paws, the fox still full of enthusiasm. I looked at the tiger. He appeared somewhat amused, clutching a brochure for whatever crap the fox was selling.
"Hello," said the raccoon.
"I would like to talk to you about our exciting new product, Syloxal - "
The fox restarted his talk. Both the tiger and the raccoon listened politely. I wasn't sure how often they got guests like this, trying to push their stuff on them. The fox talked a lot, and quickly, and smiled plenty, especially once the raccoon helped himself to a bagel, and then another. Maybe he thought that the more bagels they ate the more likely they were to buy his stuff.
"...and as you can see in vitro..."
He was tapping on his iPad and showing mysterious things to the two eye guys while he chattered endlessly about his fantastic drugs. They were some sort of eye drops, I understood that much, but that was the limit of how much I got out of his pitch.
"Tate, why don't you grab a bagel too while you're at it?"
It was the tiger, speaking out of his turn so that both the raccoon and the fox looked curiously away from the iPad and at me. I tried to look away, but I was on the spot now.
"There's plenty!" the sales fox said and flashed a big smile at me. "Courtesies of the Company!"
The raccoon looked guilty with crumbs all over his muzzle. I wondered if the tiger had heard my stomach grumble with hunger. He'd probably noticed my earlier lack of a packed lunch.
"Sure," I said. "Thank you."
"Lysander Kyle," the fox smiled broadly. He put his paw in his pocket and pulled out a business card that he handed out for me. It had a photo of him smirking like a right fox and his name, phone number, email, and the title "SALES REPRESENTATIVE - NEW YORK STATE" on it.
"Thanks," I muttered.
I put the card into my pocket, just to be polite, and grabbed one of the bagels from the basket. By then I was really hungry and was ready to risk my stomach. I took a big bite out of it and discovered that it was a nice bagel. These pharmaceutical companies must've had a good publicity budget, or something.
"...and looking at these bio-availability studies, we have proven that Syloxal metabolizes at a 13% faster rate than the competing products for fast-acting, short duration cycloplegia for the clinical setting - "
Then he went on again, speaking at a machine gun pace and waving a paw over his nifty iPad. I wasn't sure what kind of an impression he was making at the two bosses. They did listen, though it looked like the raccoon was more interested in the bagels for now. He destroyed another one while they were talking, and I managed to snatch a second one for myself too before I escaped from the room. I had my own work to do and I'd better leave the bosses to do theirs, dealing with the fox.
I began to walk along the hallway and towards the office when I heard Maya's laughter.
...oh he did!?"
"Trust me, he did!"
I heard Clay join in on the giggling with the badger. My ears turned to the direction of their cheerful noises and I listened. Eavesdropping was rude, but I wondered, and my fox ears were made for it. I heard every word. And they wouldn't know that I was listening to what they said, because they couldn't see me.
"Really?"
"Yeah, he was totally checking me out when he asked me if I could ask the management to see him. Totally!"
"Uh huh!"
"Yeah!"
"Well I didn't really get that feeling from him..."
"No? I thought it was pretty obvious, especially after he checked me out 'n all."
"How do you know he checked you out?"
I got the distinct feeling that I wasn't meant to hear this. Yet I couldn't stop listening.
"Oh come oooooon, you know how many of them come here every day! They're always giggling and checking me out."
Now Maya laughed. They were both laughing and I knew what they were laughing about. Of course I did. They were talking about faggots.
"Are you sure you're not just being hopeful that someone checked you out?"
"Pfft. They can keep checking me out but I don't bat for that team hahah!"
Yeah, right. Those faggots were only funny as long as they didn't get too close to you. At that point they became disgusting at worst and just pitifully funny at best.
"So what is it that makes them hit on you, Clay?"
"Beats me! Maybe it's the gorgeous hair..."
I think he was putting on a lisp. Maybe.
"Oh ha ha!"
I'd heard enough of it. Their laughter heated my ears all the way to the office. I almost slammed the door when I closed it. My tail was as rigid as a cattle prod and stuck out at an uncomfortable angle that made me feel like I was going to lose my balance.
Well fuck them too. If they thought pansy foxes were funny, then they might as well fuck off. Maybe the sales fox was gay or maybe he wasn't, how the fuck did you know these days anymore. Whatever he was, Maya and Clay found him hilarious because they thought he was faggy.
Well ha ha.
I growled and I only felt worse.
Who was Clay to say anything about being faggy? He probably used more fur products than Maya. Who was the real fag now? What kind of a right did they have to make fun of the fox even if he was a bit funny? Was that how they saw all gay people, something to gossip about and flick their wrist and -
Well fuck them. What did they know about life? They were stupid kids. They'd never had to fend for themselves. They didn't know what life was for. It was for fucking you up and then leaving you to try and get along with it, no matter what had happened. You just had to keep your shit together.
I didn't feel like I had my shit together. Part of me just wanted to march out of the store and never come back again. Another part wanted to punch people, and I just mostly wanted to be left alone and not be reminded about any of this.
I just wanted a moment where none of this hurt so damn much. I wanted to forget.
But I couldn't run. Literally, and figuratively. You didn't run away and proved to those sneering faces that you were a complete pansy in the face of trouble and adversity. You sat down on your computer and did your things and didn't let them fuck you up.