Young Writers Society

I tried to do this on my own and it didn't work. I need more people in on this.

The setting is Noir Café, a place where all sorts of preturnatural creepy-crawlies get together and talk over cups of various liquids, generally coffee. Mostly dialogue. Pick a creature (or two or five) and go at it...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Anyway,” The man said, “I guess I should be getting back to work.”
“Work? You work?”
“Well, yeah. There’s not much business in the chaos god department anymore, so I have a day job. Pays the bills, and I get the energy I need.”
“What’s your job?”
He swelled a tad, proud, “I’m a police officer.”
“A police officer?”
“Yeah. They keep the peace.”
“I see. I guess you’re not one of those, um, ‘keeping the peace’.”
“Of course not. What fun is there in peace? Have you ever encountered a mother who just realized her honor-role student has been smoking crack? Oh, that’s panic for you, chaos in it’s most unrefined. I just drink it up. I’ve been transferred in and out of departments all over the country, though, cause no one likes being with me. I agitate the people, you know? I swear, ever since that Rodney King incident...”
“I could see that.”

He shrugged, intent on forgeting the Rodney King incident had ever occured. "But anyway, being a police officer does have it's advantages. You know, whatever bullcrap I say, people will do. I walked up to a couple of teens kissing in the park the other day. I told them kissing in public places had been outlawed and I took out my stick and said if they didn't remove themselves from there, I'd arrest them for insubordination. Swear, the little bastard was this close to wetting himself."
"Oh yeah, nothing defines a decent living like threatening teenagers with pointless crap."
"Hey, you see me insulting your job? Oh wait, do you even have a job?"
"You bet your ass I do. My job is sittin' around and makin' sure you don't do anything stupid. Seems like I'm a little late though."
The police officer laughed. "I'd watch it, Burt, or you may find yourself locked up one of these days. And it probably won't be because of me, either."
Burt rolled his eyes. "Yeah okay, Mr. Safety Protector. What do you say to another cup of Brunish?"
"What the hell is that?"
"Mix of different alcohols, basically. Bartender makes it special for me, and I slip him a little extra cash, and he makes sure that one waitress brings it over."
"As great as that sounds, I'm about to be late. Besides, I think those kids across the street holding hands are just waiting for me to tell 'em they can't do that either."

As he got up he threw a couple of bucks on the bare wood table.
"Forget it," said Burt as he pushed the money back
"Nah, you keep it," he walked through the door annoyed at the little ding that announced his departure from the bar.
The teens across the street had stopped holding hands they were now in a full fledged make out scene,
The teens were so into their kissing that they didn't even notice as he quietly walked up behind them,
He startled them with a loud
"Hello, are you aware that public displays of affection are against the law?" he smiled and gave the boy a malicious glare.