âFresh Coffee 24-7!â
Thatâs what the dilapidated sign said over the quiet coffee shop in question. The streets were eerily silent except for the odd taxi ferrying a late-night reveller back home. And in the coffee shop, the archaic fluorescent lighting flickered overhead as a young lady behind the counter stared into space, head on her hand, fighting to keep her eyes open.
Two men sat, huddled at a small table in the furthest corner, two mugs in front of them, and a half-eaten Chelsea bun sitting between them both.
âItâs simple!â Dogdon said in a hushed tone, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He moved the tattered, coffee-stained map closer to Fusby.
âSimple? How thick do you think I am?â Fusby said with chuckle. âItâs madness! Look at what we have to get past - itâs the Institute of Magical Science, for Mightâs sake!â
Dogdon tilted his head and smiled, âOkay, wrong word. But itâs⊠doable. And if we pull this off, weâre set for life.â
âHow so? Who is going to want to buy this âessenceâ stuff, you say theyâre working on?â Fusby said, grabbing the map and looking at the big red âxâ scrawled in red marker in the top right of the map.
âBlack market, Fuzz. Loads of buyers there. Who wouldnât want to get their hands on the worldâs first spell to rewind time?â Dogdon, said, taking a swig from his coffee.
âSo this essence,â Fusby said, âit makes them look younger but only for a day or soâŠâ
âYeh, something like that. My contact said itâs⊠whatâs the word he used? Volatile, thatâs it. Sometimes it works like gangbusters, sometimes not so much. But still, thereâs gonna be people desperate enough to want it even at this stage.â Dogdon said in a loud whisper, grinning from ear to ear.
âI dunno, Dog. Weâve got the giant armoured guards, then thereâs the spell-bound entryway and the living courtyard plants, and the trapped corridors⊠and thatâs only to get to the stairs.â
Fusby looked up and scratched his head and sighed.
âWhatâs my cut?â, he finally said, after scrutinising the map for a further few seconds.
Dogdon lifted his chin, a twinkle in his eyes. Game on.
âTen percent. And anything else you can get your hands on while weâre in the labs.â
Fusby tittered and threw the map back down on the table, âYouâre having a laugh arenât you? Fifty.â
Dogdon sat back and crossed his arms, âTwenty.â
âYou need me, Dog. Iâm not moving. Fifty.â Fusby said, lifting an eyebrow.
âOkay, okay,â Dogdon said, throwing his hands up, âThirty, but just because itâs you.â
Fusby shook his head. âThis isnât a joke. If Iâm in, itâs got to be worth my while.â
Fusby started getting up, his chair screeching as it scraped backwards, âGood luck with it all. Youâre gonna need it.â
âAlright, alright, fifty! Mightâs sake Fus, you drive a hard bargain. Fifty percent.â Dogdon said, pulling at Fusbyâs sleeve.
Fusby nodded grimly, but remained standing.
âGive me a few weeks,â Fusby said over his shoulder, as he began to make his way towards the rickety cafe door. âIâll think of something.â
Dogdonâs eyes shifted momentarily to the lady at the counter, but she had fallen asleep, head on her arm, slumped on the counter.
âYeh, Fus. You think good ânâ hard,â Dogdon muttered under his breath as Fusby closed the door and walked away. âWeâre about to change the world as we know it.â
He tipped his head up towards the insipid lights and closed his eyes with a faint, lop-sided smile. Fusby bought it. He actually bought it. A youth essence, indeed. Really! Why on earth would he go to such lengths simply for something so superficial?
âGuillable fool,â Dogdon thought to himself. But a fool, Fusby was not. Thatâs why Dogdon chose him. Because it would be Fusby to figure out a way into that Institute. And it would be Fusby who would unwittingly help Dogdon get his hands on the most powerful, mind-washing essence ever known to man. And then, the fun would truly begin.