"Grrr! Gurgle!" Maou's stomach growled. "I need food. Please, Shelly! I can't live anymore, I'm dying. I… need… food." Maou flapped his arms around.
"Will you just stay still for a minute. Please?!" I cried out while struggling with Maou to take his measurements.
"This is so annoying!" Maou groaned with an annoyed and pained look on his face. "I wanna eat some food and not do this!"
"We can go eat breakfast once I'm done taking your measurements. So! Stay! Still!" I said placing the measuring tape around his waist.
"Ugh! This is way too much." Maou said, rolling his eyes. "I can just keep on wearing this cape, no problem."
Instantly, I tightly pulled the measuring tape around his waist, as if to cut him in half.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I was just joking." Maou begged, tapping my arms for mercy.
"I need SILENCE! … so I can get the measurements right." I loosened the tape measure.
"You're so mean… It was just a joke." Maou whimpered in pain.
After 1 hour of hassling to take and write down Maou's measurements, I was finally done. Later in the evening, I planned to start repairing and customising the clothes I bought for him yesterday.
"Shelly!" Maou called out, lying lifelessly on the bed. "Can we go now?"
"Come on, let's go get something to eat."
Maou's constant whining about food made me hungry as well.
"Yes! Finally!" His eyes lit up, and he sprang from the bed.
We quickly walked out of the Inn. The bright sunlight struck us, warming our skins. It was a pleasant feeling, not too hot and not too cool.
As we strolled the streets looking for a place interesting enough to eat at, Arthur spotted us and speedily walked towards us.
"Shelly! Maou-sensei!" Arthur shouted upon reaching closer.
"Oh! Arthur!" Maou began waving his hand frantically to Arthur. I also waved.
"Where are you going today Maou-sensei?" Arthur asked excitedly.
"I just want something to eat, before I have fun or I'm gonna die."
"Do you know any good places?" I asked Arthur.
"Hmm! Hmm!" Arthur stood there thinking. "Hmm! Hmm!" Arthur thought intensely.
A little concerned, I said. "Hey, you don't have to think about it too hard."
Arthur pointed at Maou. "Meat! Lots of meat!"
Maou placed both his hands on his cheeks, and with a surprised look said. "How did you know?!"
"A student must know his master," Arthur spoke with an accomplished look.
Confused I asked. "Am I… missing something?"
"Oh, don't worry, I was trying to guess what Maou-sama wanted to eat." Arthur turned to me. "But don't worry, meals are on me."
The miser in me was happy at hearing this good news. "Oh! How kind of you. Then please, lead the way."
"Right this way." Arthur led the way, and we followed closely behind him.
In less than five minutes, we were in front of a bar called, "Meat and Drink".
Walking inside, the name made more sense, as it sold different types of meat and alcohol.
The scent of liquor, hot oil and frying meat perfumed the air. The hissing hot oil screeched loudly as uncooked meat was dropped in a fryer.
"Hey! Meats! Meats! It's Arthur." Arthur yelled out, leaning over the counter.
Brushing aside some curtains behind the counter, entered a huge, muscular, angry-looking man.
He had claw scars on his face, some extending down his neck and wore a blood-stained apron.
He came out of the kitchen with sweat dripping down his face, and sweat marks on his clothes and apron. He saw Arthur and his expression changed instantly.
"Arthur!" He exclaimed joyfully, as he gave Arthur a fist bump.
His 180 change in attitude was most definitely unexpected.
"How are you!? It's good to see you back so soon."
"And it's good to see you too." Arthur gave the man a fist bump.
They appeared to be well acquainted with one another.
"But right now… I need you to serve as much cooked meat as you can." Arthur looked at Mr Meats intensely while dropping 2 gold coins on the counter and slowly said. "Keep! Them! Coming!"
Immediately, Mr Meats returned to his serious expression, he took up the gold coins and dropped them in his apron pocket.
He took a deep breath and shouted. "Pork! Beef! Mutton! Chicken! Turkey!"
Five children popped out of the kitchen and militantly lined up. "Yes, father!"
Mr Meats calmly inhaled then exhaled, before suddenly clenching his fist and tensing his arm. "Beast mode time!"
"Sir, yes sir!" The children ran towards the kitchen, nearly tumbling over one another.
In no time, pots and pans clanged, oil was heard popping and slamming of knives on a chopping board, cried loudly in the kitchen.
"I'm so dang proud of those little rascals of mine." Mr Meats wiped away a single tear from his eye.
"Would any of you be interested in any beer while you wait? Except for the little one, of course."
"I'll pass on the beer for right now," Arthur said.
"I'll wait until the food comes," I answered.
"Okay, no problem. It would probably be best used to help wash down the food."
He turned to Maou with a softened expression and spoke as if talking to a baby. "Do you want so juicy apple juice little fella?"
"Apple juice!" Maou excitedly slapped his hand, with sparkling eyes. "Can I have some? Please!"
"Of course you can, little one."
Mr Meats pulled out a beer mug from under the counter and filled it from a wooden barrel, also underneath the counter.
"Wait a minute." He sniffed the contents in the mug. "Whoops! I almost gave you the beer to drink."
Mr Meats chugged the beer, then slammed it on the counter and wiped his mouth.
"Ah! That hits the spot."
He pulled out another mug but this time filled it with apple juice and handed it to Maou.
"Enjoy, kiddo."
Maou clasped the beer mug with both hands and turned it to his head.
"Woah! This is so good." Maou was taken aback by his first sip.
"I'm glad you like it." Mr Meats smiled.
Maou took his second sip, then asked, "Did you make this?"
"Oh yes, I did indeed. It's a secret recipe that's been passed down from generations to generations."
"Shelly!" Maou pointed the mug at me with a determined look on his face. "You have to try this apple juice."
"Oh my, is it really that good?" I took the mug from Maou's hand.
"That apple drink is heavenly. Especially, when you drink it with food. Not to mention the apple beer here is the best in town, and his number one seller." Arthur praised the drink knowledgeably and with courage.
"Why don't you give it a taste and see for yourself?" Mr Meats arms were folded and with a proud smile stuck on his face, from all the praise he received.
"It's out of this world! Trust me." Maou further urged me on.
Was this juice all that special? I've had my fair share of apple juice before, but never had anyone glorify it as they all did. But, what would it hurt to give it a try?
In the end, If it wasn't as praiseworthy as they made it out to be, I would just pretend to be astonished, to not ruin the mood.
"Well, here goes nothing. I guess." I turned the mug to my head.
All eyes were on me when I turned the drink to my head. Gulp after gulp, everyone inched closer to me.
"Blam!" I slammed the empty mug to the table.
"Whew!" I wiped my lips clean.
"So… what do you think?" Arthur asked.
"Hurry up and tell us what you think about it." Maou was impatient at this point.
"Was it good… or was it meh… or was it… bad? Mr Meats was anxious and slightly nervous.
"Hmmm… I need time to think first." I purposefully teased them.
"Oh my Goodness! The suspense Is killing me." Maou grabbed his head, squirming on the stool.
"Hey, calm down, I'm just kidding." I giggled.
"So what's the verdict, chief?" Mr Meats asked.
"First of all, that was beer, not apple juice." I abruptly pointed out.
"What!" Mr Meats clasped his hands on his head in frustration. "Did I fill both barrels with beer again?"
"But…" I continued, "The praise is well deserved."
"See!" Maou was excited to see my approval. "I told you so."
"Gah! Hahaha!" Mr Meats boastfully laughed, hands on his hips. "If Grandma Porkchop was still alive, she'd be proud of me."
As a show of respect, he clasped his hands to say a prayer.
"Grandma, may your soul rest in heavenly meat. Amen!"
"Can I have some more?!" Maou eagerly asked.
"No more for you, Maou!" I responded.
"What! … But why not?!"
"That's beer, and you're too young to be drinking that," I answered.
"But I-"
"No buts!" I interrupted Maou. "You shouldn't have had any to drink in the first place."
I glared at Mr Meats, silently judging him for the mistake he committed.
His heart was struck with guilt, and he bowed. "My sincerest apologies! It won't happen again."
Maou sat on the stool seat pouting. His head in his folded arms, resting on the counter, but face turned away from me.
"Dum! Click! Clang! Crash! Splash!"
The sound of plates, pots, oil and kitchenware, colliding with the ground, was heard coming from the kitchen.
"Ah! Dad! Help!" One of the children shouted from the kitchen.
Next, shouts of quarrel came from the kitchen.
"It's Pork's fault this time!"
"What! It wasn't me! You were the one who knocked everything off the counter."
"No! It was you, Pork!"
"No! You did it, Chicken!"
"Liar, liar. Pants on fire!"
"You're the liar, Chicken" "Whack!"
"Ouch! Don't hit me, Pork!" "Bam!"
"Slap! Wham! Slam! Clang!" A brawl could be heard in the kitchen.
Mr Meats facepalmed, slowly shaking his head, then he said "Give me a few minutes."
Just as he was about to close the curtains, he said. "I hope you don't mind waiting for a little more."