The Rush of Rum

Baking and mixology were clearly two different beasts. Hops knew this. Still, that didn’t have to mean they never overlapped - right?

No, not in Hops’s opinion. As far as she was concerned, a little bit of alcohol could improve just about anything. She was further solidified in this opinion while talking to a customer who was drinking rum.

“This one’d make a good pecan pie,” the doll had mused as they recovered from their shot.

Hops tilted her head as she poured her own shot glass - this customer had gone through four other rums in search of one that’d satisfy them, and that was enough to make Hops curious about the one that finally seemed to be satisfactory. It smelled good. But... “There are pecan pies with rum in them?”

“The best pecan pies have rum in them!,” they affirmed, holding their glass up for more rum. Hops obliged before taking her shot.

She could envision the pie as the rum burned down her throat. Yum.

“More desserts should include alcohol,” she decided aloud, earning her a muffled cheer of affirmation from the patron.

They slammed the glass down, and shook out their ears. “Thanks for the samplin’, Hops, you can bet I’ll be back for some of that rum.”

“Uh-huh.” Her thoughts were elsewhere as she tucked her tips aside and processed the payment. She’d heard of the Bake-Off happening in Burrowgatory - of course she had - but she hadn’t put much thought into it. Drink recipes she had an abundance of, but baking? She hadn’t had any idea what might qualify as an acceptable entry. Not until now.

With the perfect rum, some pecans, and whatever else a pecan pie needed (okay, she’d have to find a recipe)... she might have a real chance. As she wiped down the counter, she planned the next steps for-

Crash!

“Ack!” She jumped to the side on instinct, now aware of her surroundings, whilst she heard some regulars chuckle.

“Oh, ha, right, the glass!” She laughed it off as she fetched a broom. The laughs and affectionate comments of regulars were distant to her ears, all but the singular “classic Hops”.

Hm. Classic Hops.

An excellent point, one that lingered in her mind as she passed by Angora after clocking out.

“Hops,” Angora greeted smoothly. Her aura of confidence made Hops feel almost meek, knowing the proposition she had in mind for this encounter.

“Hey, Angora,” she greeted, shuffling into a mirrored position of Angora’s leaned back, self assured poise.

It didn’t seem to have the effect she was hoping for - maybe because she nearly tripped in the process - as Angora only chuckled.

“I heard about your shift, you know.”

“Oh-! Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about that - do you think I could uh, have more shifts next week? You know, debt and all, but also... if I’m gonna be in debt, do you think we could add a lil bottle of rum to the total?”

Angora hummed in thought. Getting nearer, she stroked Hops’s right ear, rubbing a pink spot and making a hopeful shudder run down Hops’s spine. Angora let go, hand steadying the trinket adorning Hops’s right horn.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling, consider it one of my little gifts,” she purred. “But if you’d really like to come in for some extra shifts, well, I’m sure I could work that out.”

Her tail curled as Hops nodded eagerly. “Thanks, Angora!,” she cheered as she rushed off.

“Take a bag, Hops, we wouldn’t want you smashing your gift, now, would we?,” Angora called after her, her smile lingering on her words.

Now off of work properly, Hops buzzed with excitement. The rum in her bag was high quality, and she knew with all her passion that it would make for the best pecan pie in Burrowgatory.

Or, at the very least, she’d enjoy it!