“Fresh Coffee 24-7!”

That’s 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.

“It’s simple!” Dogdon said in a hushed tone, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He moved the tattered, coffee-stained map closer to Fusby.

“Simple? How thick do you think I am?“ Fusby said with chuckle. “It’s madness! Look at what we have to get past - it’s the Institute of Magical Science, for Might’s sake!”

Dogdon tilted his head and smiled, “Okay, wrong word. But it’s… doable. And if we pull this off, we’re set for life.”

“How so? Who is going to want to buy this ‘essence’ stuff, you say they’re working on?” Fusby said, grabbing the map and looking at the big red ‘x’ scrawled in red marker in the top right of the map.

“Black market, Fuzz. Loads of buyers there. Who wouldn’t want to get their hands on the world’s first spell to rewind time?” Dogdon, said, taking a swig from his coffee.

“So this essence,” Fusby said, “it makes them look younger but only for a day or so…”

“Yeh, something like that. My contact said it’s… what’s the word he used? Volatile, that’s it. Sometimes it works like gangbusters, sometimes not so much. But still, there’s gonna be people desperate enough to want it even at this stage.” Dogdon said in a loud whisper, grinning from ear to ear.

“I dunno, Dog. We’ve got the giant armoured guards, then there’s the spell-bound entryway and the living courtyard plants, and the trapped corridors… and that’s only to get to the stairs.”

Fusby looked up and scratched his head and sighed.

“What’s my cut?”, he finally said, after scrutinising the map for a further few seconds.

Dogdon lifted his chin, a twinkle in his eyes. Game on.

“Ten percent. And anything else you can get your hands on while we’re in the labs.”

Fusby tittered and threw the map back down on the table, “You’re having a laugh aren’t you? Fifty.”

Dogdon sat back and crossed his arms, “Twenty.”

“You need me, Dog. I’m not moving. Fifty.” Fusby said, lifting an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay,” Dogdon said, throwing his hands up, “Thirty, but just because it’s you.”

Fusby shook his head. “This isn’t a joke. If I’m in, it’s got to be worth my while.”

Fusby started getting up, his chair screeching as it scraped backwards, “Good luck with it all. You’re gonna need it.”

“Alright, alright, fifty! Might’s sake Fus, you drive a hard bargain. Fifty percent.” Dogdon said, pulling at Fusby’s sleeve.

Fusby nodded grimly, but remained standing.

“Give me a few weeks,” Fusby said over his shoulder, as he began to make his way towards the rickety cafe door. “I’ll think of something.”

Dogdon’s eyes shifted momentarily to the lady at the counter, but she had fallen asleep, head on her arm, slumped on the counter.

“Yeh, Fus. You think good ‘n’ hard,” Dogdon muttered under his breath as Fusby closed the door and walked away. “We’re about to change the world as we know it.”

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?

‘Guillable fool,’ Dogdon thought to himself. But a fool, Fusby was not. That’s 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.