Strangers in Moscow
Part 3
By Oculus
~
It was a cold morning in Moscow, the chill of later winter still ever-present. For Homer, one of his morning rituals was going for breakfast at the local McBrega’s near his alma master of the Moscow State University. However, there seemed to be a bit of a commotion today. A young man, about his age, had chained himself to the door. On his shoulder, a fluffy was yelling out loudly, his voice amplified by a microphone attached to his mouth.
“Fwuffy nu wan MacBees ta gu! Fwuffy wan nummies!!” the fluffy yelled out. Near him, a policeman pleaded to the fluffy, “Listen you dumb shitrat, the McBrega’s will be open again soon. Under a new name.”
“Fwuffy dun cawe! Daddeh sez nyu pwace wiww nu be wike McBees! Daddeh an’ Fwuffy onway wan MacBees!”
“Good riddance” said an old man near Homer. Reeking of grime and alcohol, it was quite clear that this man was a hobo. “None of that foreign crap. Now good Russians will know good food and drink.” As he said this, the old drunkard proceeded to down the bottle of vodka in his hand.
Getting a little tired of the charade, one of the policemen snatched the fluffy off the shoulder of the chained man. The fluffy, struggling against the might of the bear of a policeman, protested “Gitt off fwuffy!!’” In addition, the protester lunged at the policeman, but was held back by the very chains he had placed on himself. In anger, he demanded, “Keep your hands off my fluffy!!”
The incident soured Homer a little on having breakfast there. He decided to have his breakfast at the university cafeteria instead. It was a mere 15 minute walk to the university, and it was there that he saw someone familiar.
“Hey Rita.”
“Hey Homie.”
Homer’s fiancée, Rita, was reading the newspaper that morning. From a distance, the headlines on the front page explained the situation he saw earlier.
“So, McBrega’s is closing huh?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Bit of a shame. Guess its natural though, all those companies are pulling out.”
Rita continued to read her newspaper, as her fiancé went to purchase a blini for breakfast. As he proceeded to sit down, Rita place down her newspaper, as a thought had crossed her mind.
“Have you ever thought of going to the big McBrega’s in Pushkin Square?”
“The big McBrega’s?”
“You know, it’s a really big one. It was where they opened the first McBrega’s outlet in the 90s.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. And over time they bought up much of the building around the area. It’s quite the place to visit.”
As Homer considered the offer, Rita felt inclined to chip in, “We could even take Krasny and Sinyaya!”
~
“Hey Barb.”
It was the third of March, and Mikhail had gotten a call from Ms Devushkina.
“Hey Mikey.
Have you heard? McBrega’s is about to leave Russia.”
“Yeah, I heard about that”
“Say Mikey, do you remember the episode you did at the McBrega’s in Pushkin?”
“Oh, that was a while back. I think it was like my tenth video. I went there when I was reviewing the Rocky IV game with Martin.”
For a brief moment, Mikhail gets a bit lost in his thoughts. He remembered how difficult it was for Mikhail to land a blow in the game and vice versa. Because of the poor motion detection, neither Mikhail’s hits nor Martin’s hit swere registering within the game.
“Dis game am poopoo! Wai dummeh nu git dat huwties!!”
As a homage to movie, Mikhail and Martin spoofed a scene where Rocky ran up the stairs of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. In this case, Mikhail was running the staircase within the first McBrega’s building in Pushkin square. As Mikhail ran up the stairs, Martin did his best impersonation of Rocky’s coach.
“’ou am gunna num zappies an’ poopie thunda!!”
And success! Mikhail reached the top. Holding the game up high, he looks before the heights he traversed, and throws the game all the way down.
“I really had a lot of fun making that video.”
“Mikey, I was thinking, what if we went to Pushkin? If it’s going to be last time one eats at McBrega’s, it should be at the very first outlet.”
“I’d be up for it, sure. But wouldn’t you be busy?”
Barb hesitated a little. She was not ready to tell Mikhail that her office was closing soon.
“I’ll take the day off. And besides – we might not get this chance again.”
~
Sunday, the 13th of March. 2022.
At 10am in the morning, Homer appeared in front of Rita. The young couple stared at each other in the eyes for a brief moment, and then kissed.
“Hey, golubka.”
“Hey homie.”
Both of the young students had been carrying a pet carrier. Two small noises came out of each carrier.
“Hewwo, bwudda.”
“Hewwo, sissy.”
Both foals greeted each other. While they were happy to see each other again, the two lacked the natural enthusiasm or energy known to most fluffies, especially foals of their age.
“C’mon guys, cheer up” urged Homer, as he reminded them, “We’re going to McBee’s today!”
For any fluffy, especially one in America, that name would light a fluffy up. A visit to McBrega’s meant a nice plate of spaghetti, as well as a fun time, with all kinds of games available for a fluffy to play with. But for Krasny and Sinyaya, they could only manage a simpler response.
“Otay.”
~
“Morning, Barb.”
“Morning, Mikey.”
Mikhail was holding a pet carrier with Martin in it, while Barb was carrying Old Major in her arms. While she did have a pet carrier, Old Major had preferred to be in the arms of his owner in the latter years of his life. It was just as well, as Barb preferred to carry the old McBrega fluffy by herself.
“So, we’re really doing this, huh?”
“Mmhmm.”
Old major stirred a little. Barbara had mentioned that there were going to be a trip today, but he had forgotten the details about it. His delicately manufactured brain was losing its cells by the day, a sign that his time was coming sooner or later.
“Whewe am fwuffy goin’, Bawb?”
Barbara smiled, as she explained, “We’re going to McBees. A special McBees. It’s the McBees where I first met you.”
Old Major thought on that a little. A part of him felt enthusiastic, but it was also a memory that felt too faint. Too faint to be remembered vividly.
“Fiwst McBees… dat am nice. Bu… bu fwuffy nu can ‘memba.”
Barbara started to massage Old Major, as she spoke soothingly, “It’ll be fine. Maybe a visit there will help you remember things.”
~
As Homer and Rita got on the metro, they found a pair of vacant seats. The two proceeded to sit by each other and snuggle a little, as they place their little pet carriers on their laps.
~
“Can’t believe it’s not working.”
Barbara kept flashing her card on the reader. She remembered that just a month ago, when she last used the Metro, her card was still working.
“Oh, I just realized. My Travelcard is connected to Visacard,” noted Barbara. Visacard was one of the financial services that had pulled out of Russia recently. “Guess I’ll have to buy a ticket.”
Just as she said this, Mikhail promptly said, ”It’s okay, I’ll buy it for you.”
It was a fairly simple process. Go up to the counter, provided the cash, and receive the ticket. Holding the temporary ticket in hand, he passed it to his friend.
“Here ya go.”
“Oh, thanks Mikey.”
~
Homer and Rita had been on the train for quite a while. Being the studious person he was, Homer had spent most of the previous night studying hard. As he started to feel, his mind goes back to an incident that happened in February.
Homer and Rita had spent most of their weekend afternoon studying at a nearby McBrega’s. As they were walking home, they saw two youths vigorously kicking at something. From a distance, it looked like a ball. However, as both students came closer to the youths, they realized that what seemed like a ball was actually pink. And very fuzzy.
“Wait a minute.”
As Homer said this, one of the Hooligans proceeded to carry a bat up. With a quick motion, he throws the pink object into the air, and, smash! The pink object flies through the air, and lands into a window. Upon finishing his deed, his accomplice then yelled out
“Oh shit, someone’s coming!”
The hooligans started running. One of them cried out, “Hah, dumbass bitch! Got what she deserved!”
Knowing what it was, Homer ran up towards the pink object. It was an adult fluffy mare, now dead. Judging from the torture she received, Homer noticed a gaping wound in the back of her body – this fluffy most likely had a bioport installed, which the hooligans had forcibly ripped out.
“Fucking hooligans,” muttered Homer. Though fluffy abuse had been frowned upon by the general public, scenes like this had been increasing lately. It didn’t help that he had been seeing a lot of memes of people comparing the poor things to a specific foreign nation.
“MUMMAH! MUMMMMMAH! SCREEEEEEE!”
Homer turned around. A box was not too far from where the deed was done. Within walking distance, one could see that two foals were hugging each other under a pile of newspaper. A blue foal, and a red foal. The red foal was clearly elder, trying her best to cajole his distraught sister.
“Pwez nu cwy sissy… mummah sez ta be bwave…”
~
Barb and Mikhail noticed that there were two seats at the end of a section which were vacant. The two promptly sat down, with Barb placing Old Major on her lap while Mikhail placed his pet carrier under his seat.
As the train journey continued, Barb noticed that there was a pair of young Russians who were seated opposite of them. She noticed the comfort that the young man took by just lying his head on the girl’s shoulder. Barb had long suppressed an interest in relationships, due to a busy schedule she had set for herself. But something about seeing the couple stirred some feelings in her.
She turned to Mikhail. Mikhail did come across as a person who would not spend their much time going out with anyone, let alone someone of the fairer sex. And yet, despite this rare opportunity, Mikhail seemed to keep to himself, preferring to move closer towards the hard comfort of the wagon’s wall.
Trying to strike conversation, Barbara asked a rather simple question.
“So, Mikey, do you have someone in your life?”
Mikhail’s response was rather nonchalant, as he looked out of the window.
“There was a guy I knew once.”
That little fact caught Barb by surprise as Mikhail continued, “He was a really nice guy. I met him when I was a teenager, living in Ukraine.”
“You were in Ukraine?”
“My Grandpa. As in my mom’s dad. He’s Ukrainian. Not long after my dad died, my mom and I moved to the Ukraine, and I lived with my grandpa. I spent many a good year in Ukraine, and it was there where I met Yakiv.
We didn’t really go out until we were in university. I flunked college, and it was then that Yakiv introduced me to the Mir Daycare. And after some time, we just started, going out.”
“That’s really sweet. Do you still see Yakiv?”
Mikhail was silent for a good half of a minute, maintaining a blank stare. Then, he frankly stated, “It didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry to hear Mikey.”
“It happens.
Besides it was my fault.”
Hearing that last line sort of convinced Barbara not to continue the conversation. Mikhail remain slumped against the wall, staring blankly out of the window. As he continued to stare, a feminine voice announced the Metro station that the thread had just reached.
“Universitetskiy Ave.”
Perhaps trying to change the conversation, Mikhail blurted out a name.
“Malchik.”
A bit puzzled, Barbara asked, “Whose Malchik?”
“Malchik was a fluffy of one of the Dendy breeds. One of the strays that mastered the Metro. His statue would be here.”
“Oh,” said Barbara, as she started to recollect, “wasn’t he the fluffy that was murdered about two decades ago?”
“Yeah.
I would have been in the Ukraine at the time that happened. But sometimes I wonder, how did that woman get away with stabbing Malchik? Did no one care? Was it not apparent? Or were they all, “too far away”, like I was?”
Barbara looked down to the floor. Mikhail had asked a question that she herself couldn’t answer, as she had been living in the United States at the time. Mikhail continued to remain silent, slouched against the wall.
From his pet carrier on the ground, Martin observed his surroundings. In the past many forevers, there seemed to be less smiles whenever his daddeh brought him out. All the hummehs, the mummahs and daddehs, seemed to be less jovial. Martin wondered why it was the case. Even Mikhail’s new friend, the nice whady named Barbara, seemed to be rather sad. As Martin looked across from his pet carrier, he saw a young couple with two sad foals on their lap. These two hummehs seemed to be happy by each other’s side as they held hands. Something about that warmed Martin’s heart.
~
“What do we do, Homer?”
Holding the crying foals in his hand, Homer could only think of one solution.
“We’ll just have to take them to McBrega’s.”
Although McBrega outlets were primarily food and entertainment establishments, as distributors for fluffies they also operated various shelters, funded by the Marty McBrega House Charities. Usually, the process for donating a foal was simple – go to a major outlet, one with the shelter, and provide the fluffy or foal. But today there was a problem.
“I’m afraid we can’t take anymore foals.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve currently reached max capacity”
“What?!”
It just seemed so foreign to Homer. But, and as he thought of the current overall situation, it just seemed to make sense.
“You’ll just have to try again another day.”
Holding Sinyaya in his hand, and with Krasny in Rita’s hand, Mikhail realized the inevitable.
“I guess we got no choice, Rita.”
That was weeks ago. Both Homer and Rita took turns looking after the two foals, at first together. Then slowly, Homer and Rita managed to convince both foals that they could be separated but only for a while. It was difficult, but it was a lot of effort to look after both foals. Despite the love and care the couple gave the two siblings, the memory of that horrible day could not escape the foals. As much as they tried to interest them in various activities, the trauma of seeing both of their parents die to the harshness of the streets affected them.
~
Even though it was just a short trip to an average sized building within the Moscow Metropolitan Area, it felt like a long journey for Mikhail. As he alighted from the train, and walked towards the gate, he could see the building that house the largest McBrega’s outlet in the land. Over the three decades that the conglomerate had maintained a presence in Russia, this one outlet had undergone many renovations, changing its façade and interior at least thrice. Yet, with all those changes, one thing had to remain the same – a large seating capacity, and enough counters and staff to man those counters.
“Here we are,” declared Mikhail, as he looked to the building that was behind the outlet. In the mid-90s to early 2000s, the building was a shopping centre that had a variety of facilities and shops. Now, MacBrega’s had occupied almost half of the shops within this adjacent facility, as MacBrega’s operations had expanded to include its other entertainment and pet services beyond just the original “fluffy restaurant” model that it had exposed to a young Russia.
“I remember that, back in the day, there used to be an internet café here. And an arcade.”
“They’re both gone now,” noted Barbara. She realized she had been to this area many times before. Most likely to shop at the Japanese DuoGlo clothing store. That was also leaving Russia, along with Fluffmart. And so many other Western companies.
“Well, lets get on with it.”
Mikhail opened the glass door, and let Barbara enter first, with Old Major in her arms. About five minutes after they entered, another couple, carrying two miniature pet carriers designed for young foals, also entered the outlet. Mikhail recognized them as the couple they saw on the train. As he correctly surmised, they were one of the many people who had come to this great McBrega’s to mark its final day.
Concrete, stainless steel, oak and glass. These were the elements that marked the newest renovation for the outlet, with the intention of creation an island of calm, despite the bustle and long lines. Considering the current circumstance, it seemed ironic that Barbara and Mikhail felt that calm. But perhaps it was for the best. As the two went up to the digital screen, the Dendy enthusiast placed his finger, and opened up the array of possibilities.
“So, what would you like, Martin?”
Though placed within his carrier, Martin was familiar with the menu of McBrega’s as he gave a standard answer.
“Buwgew.”
“I’ll go for a Burger too. And an oat milkshake for Major here.”
“Well, that makes three burgers then,” declared Mikhail, deftly pressing the buttons that would send the electronic signals to the staff working in the kitchen. As Mikhail eyed the staff, he realized that most of them had a rather dour face. These were not the faces of people working a rather menial job for low pay. Rather, the staff had faces of an uncertain future. Even the fluffy that was manning the counter was lacking a sense of joy.
~
Homer and Rita situated themselves by the window. Though they only had two seats, it was enough for the two of them, as their little charges were still barely larger than their hand.
“Come on, Cиничка (Sinichka), be a little happy. We’re at McBrega’s!”
But that name meant little to the young foal. For the first few months of her life, she had only known the cold streets, and the warmth of her fluffy parents. Now those parents are gone. And even though Rita and Homie tried their best, the two hummehs struggled to understand them at times.
“Do you like the spaghetti?” offered Homer. The coupled had ordered two plates of spaghetti, one of the features of McBrega’s, and also one of the foods most favoured by the fluffy pony, whether it was a Dendy or an American fluffy.
Krasny hesitated, as he looked at the little bit of sketti that had been placed on the little plate by Homer. However, he proceeds to sink his young jaws into the small morsels of noodles.
“Nummies am nice, nice mistah.
Come sissy. Twy da sketti.”
And Siniyaya did so. However, her reaction was different.
“Taste wike…. Mummah’s miwkies……
Mummah…”
And the foal started to cry.
Homer and Rita sighed, as Krasny went up to his sister, and started hugging her.
“Pwez swissy, nu cwy…… we hab a nyu mummah and daddeh, and nice nummies nao…”
~
Seated at a table not too far away, Barbara and Martin were eating the veggie burgers that they received from the counter. Martin was a little ecstatic, as he enjoyed the special formulated fake meat that had been developed after years of research and engineering in the labs of McBrega of America. For Barbara, it was a comfort food, as the buns had a little bit of that devilish syrup that was also served with the McBrega griddles in the morning.
Major, however, was having a little trouble with his meal.
“Uu… oops”
His cup fell down, the oat milkshake spilled onto the floor. In trying to bring his mouth to the straw, he only ended up tipping over the drink.
“Don’t worry Major, I’ll get you another milkshake.”
Before she could get up though, Barbara noticed that Mikhail was still staring at his veggie burger. He had taken only a single bite.
“Mikey? What’s wrong.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for this.”
“Mikey. It’s just a burger.”
“It’s not just the burger! It’s not just the fluffies, it’s all of it! It’s what it’s supposed to represent!”
That sudden outburst caught the attention of a lot of people. The foals that had been crying at the young couple’s table stopped, as they proceeded to glare in Mikhail’s direction. So too did the couple they owned them, as well as the staff, and pretty much everyone else around them. Realizing his foolishness, Mikhail could only blurt out a half-hearted apology.
“I’m…. I’m sorry.”
After a while, the glares turned away.
“I’m sorry, Barb.”
But Barb, ever understanding of this misfit, smiled as she said, “It’s okay.”
~
The meal didn’t take long to finish, but Mikhail wanted to experience some of the other things the outlet had to offer. After all, if it was going to be the last day one could be at a McBrega’s in Russia, one would try out everything they had to offer.
Mikhail wanted one of the service fluffies to entertain him but, and according to the staff, most of the service fluffies had been pulled out of the outlet earlier, having been flown back to the parts of America and Europe. The few fluffies that had remained were all native Dendies, many of which lacked the finesse and charm of their overseas counterparts.
Mikhail noticed that, in the place of where the arcade they used to be located, there were various booths that had televisions in them along with consoles. And he realized what this area was.
“We could book a gaming session here!”
However, upon reaching the area, Barb and Mikhail realized something. Out of then thirty cubicles that had been placed here, twenty-five were already in use, and four of the cubicles had faulty machinery. Leaving only one cubicle, which a young couple was already attempting to get.
But something happened in that moment. Something a little unexpected.
“Hey, you’re Mikhail Ivanovich, right?”
Mikhail was a bit surprised, as he nodded, “Yes, I am.”
Homer smiled, as he extended his hand and introduced himself. “Homer. And this is Rita. I’ve been watching your videos about fluffies recently.”
Mikhail smiled a little as he heard that. “Aw, thanks.”
And, a brainwave just hit all the parties involved. It was not clear who made the offer first. But the answer was so certain, that any two out of the four people could have said it.
“What if all of us shared a cubicle?”
And indeed. There was enough space. It was enough space for a family and their fluffies. As Homer, Rita and Barbara sat down on the couch with the two adult fluffies and the two foals, Mikhail went up to the television and noticed the consoles that were available. The particular cubicle had a choice of an MES console and a PiiU.
“So, what game do you guys want to play?”
“I’m fine with anything.”
“How abow da dancie game?”
That came out of Martin. Feeling an obligation for his own fluffy, Mikhail nodded.
The dancie game that Martin referred to was a classic released for the MES that came bundled with a mat. Designed for up to four fluffies, the fluffy would dance on the mat, and try to match the rhythm of the arrows that came on the screen and according to the beat. As both Martin and Major had bioports, Mikhail connected the two cables to the two fluffies.
Feeling a momentary jolt, Martin’s eyes started to brighten, along with Major’s. Though Old Major was not used to the discomfort, the failing nerves of his body meant that he would feel little pain. For Martin, he was so used to the experience that he enjoyed it.
“It am time few funsies!”
And the arrows started to fly!
Old Major tries his best, but he was obviously too slow. His legs could barely match the arrows that came alive on the mat. And after a four-minute song, Martin won the first round. Old Major collapsed on the ground, as he admitted, “Fwuffy am tiwed.”
Krasny and Sinyaya, who were watching the game, were ecstatic.
“Babbeh wan pway dancie game!!’
“Sissy too!!”
“Hey that’s a good idea, Mikhail!”
But Mikhail was a little apprehensive. While foals were compatible with the games, there was the shock which would be uncomfortable to foals who had never tried out the game before.
“I’m not sure. Is this their first time?”
“It is,” acknowledged Homer, but, as he pointed out, “We might not get this chance again.”
“Alright.
Okay fluffies. I will have to place this thingy Into your back place,” explained Mikhail, as he held up the cable, “but there will be hurties.”
“Huwties?” asked SInyaya a little afraid.
“It’ll hurt a little.”
“Be bwave, sissy.”
Both foals closed their eyes, as Mikhail bent down with the two cables. However, he realized something. While Sinyaya did have the opening that indicated the presence of such a bioport, Krasny didn’t. One of the genetic wizardries that McBrega had achieved was a gene that allowed generations of Dendies to be born with a bioport. However, as these bioported Dendies intermingled with strays, it resulted in instances where some fluffy siblings would have bioports, and some wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry little one, but you won’t be able to play the game.”
“Aww,” moaned Krasny.
But Sinyaya was still afraid. Just the word hurties reminded her of that awful day just a few weeks ago.
“Be bwave sissy. Hurties, but for funsies!”
“Yeah, Sinyaya. Just give it a try. And Mikey here can pull it out if it hurts too much.”
Hearing Rita and Krasny’s voice, Sinyaya relented.
“Otay. Babbeh am weady.”
Mikhail slowly inserts the cable into Sinyaya’s bio-socket. At first, the foal went “Ow!”. But indeed, it was only momentary. Her eyes started to brighten up, as she came to witness a world she had never seen before.
“WOAH!”
And now, Sinyaya was in the same world with Martin.
“Hewwo Babbeh! Weady for dancies?”
Something came over Sinyaya. It was an energy and enthusiasm that she remembered having, back when she was a happy foal with her brother, living in the care of a doting fluffy stallion and mare.
“Babbeh am weady!”
And as the music blared in 16 bit glory, the arrows started coming alive again!
“They print my message in the Saturday Sun
I had to tell them I ain’t second to none
And I told about equality and it’s true
Either you’re wrong or you’re right
But, if you’re thinkin’ about my baby
It don’t matter if you’re red or blue”
Sinyaya was fast. Though she was only a foal, she had an exuberance that was rather unexpected. Perhaps after weeks of limiting herself, she felt a vigour that motivated her through the steps. In contrast, Martin didn’t have her energy, but he was definitely a more experienced gamer, and thus still a pro. As the humans enjoyed the fluffies participating in the game, even Krasny, who was not hooked up, was dancing, trying to match the moves of his sister and the pro gamer Martin.
After five minutes, the final scores were tallied. Not bad! The kid got the energy ratings, while Martin matched all the steps!!
“Bu, bwudda am do bestest dancies!!” beamed Sinyaya with pride. And all the humans laughed, because she had a point.
~
They tried all kinds of games. They tried out “Mawty travels around the world”, which was a detective game. They played “Mighty Action X”, “Proclaim and Prosper”, “Diablocraft” and so on. Some games Krasny was able to play, as there was a special fluffy controller that had four easy buttons that Krasny could press.
As the minutes went by, Mikhail experienced a fun he hadn’t felt in ages. He had been playing games with Martin, who was his best friend, but as he also played against Barbara, and the strangers Homer and Rita, he felt a challenge he hadn’t experienced for many years. It was just the fun of playing with another person and their fluffies.
“Wets pway anudda gaem!”
Just as Krasny said that, a buzzer went off, indicating that they had only five minutes left in the session.
“Sorry fluffies. We got to stop.”
“Awwww….”
Krasny and Sinyaya, lamented, as Martin protested.
“Bu… bu fwuffy wan pway some moar!”
”I’m sorry Martin. But maybe, one day, we could come back and play again!”
“Dat wouwd be nice.”
Mikhail swallowed a bit hard when he said that. While fluffies were eager to please, he was not comfortable with this one lie.
As all parties left the cubicle, Homer reflected on the experience.
“Well, that was a great time I had.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“We should do this again sometime. Maybe somewhere like a karaoke or something.”
“That’d be swell yeah.”
~
“That was great Mikhail.”
As Barbara said, an odd sight greeted her at the front of McBrega outlet. It was an old man in a suit, wearing a muffler because of the cold, and a face of surprise, not expecting to meet a familiar person here.
“Dad?”
Mikhail felt a bit alert as he heard Barbara said that.
“Barbie? What are you doing here?”
Not quite sure what to do in this situation, Mikhail bowed a little as he introduced himself.
“Good afternoon sir. I’m Mikhail.”
“Aaah. So you’re the Mikhail that my dear Barbie has been talking about?”
Barbara winced a little. She hated it when her father called her that.
“I guess I am. We’ve been collaborating on a project related to Dendies.”
“I heard about that. She’s been talking a lot about it.”
Cutting to the point, Barbara asked, “What about you, dad? Kinda surprised to see you here.”
“Had some business to settle with a colleague around here.
If you want, I can bring you back home. My car is parked nearby.”
It was getting late anyway.
“I guess this is goodbye for now, Mikhail.”
”I guess.”
“Listen, I’ll send you a message, and we’ll discuss the project.”
“Sure.”
~
A day later, Barbara was in bed with her tablet open, and Old Major by her side. As she crawled through youtube, she saw the two vlogs. One by Mikhail, and one by Homer. Both giving their own unique and differing accounts about their time at McBrega. Both parties had rather awkward meals with their fluffies. But all of them had a great time in the cubicle, playing the party games.
“That was fun, wasn’t it, Major?”
Major smiled. Even though he was old, and couldn’t participate much, he felt a happiness that was different from what he was receiving at the daycare recently.
“Fwuf…. Fwuffy hab big happies,” croaked Major.
“Indeed we did. And I’d love to get back home soon.”
But Major was silent at that announcement. His eyes were closed, his mouth in a smile. And no breath was coming out of him.
“Major?”
