Godly

Hi all,

another piece of writing prompt fiction for you. The prompts are the above picture and the six words below the story (one as the title, the other five to be used in the piece. I’ve gone off two-word titles.). Enjoy!

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‘What’ll it be?’ The Chicken had a beard and a mild London accent, glasses.
‘Flat white. Skinny.’ Joe flicked him a glance, then looked back at his phone. A guy in a chicken suit, his feathers wobbling as he bashed out used grounds on the edge of the counter. There was a Zebra behind him and what looked like a Scooby Doo dog near the door. Two girls in black cat suits sitting at the counter. He looked around, nodding his head to the electro-jazz on the sound system. Chill place. Except for all the animal costumes. He scanned the walls for a clue. Dress Up For Free Coffee Day? Tuesday morning, so not some party. He tried not to stare, turned around and leaned on the counter. The machine thrummed. The guy in the chicken suit gave him a wink. ‘Won’t be a minute, bro.’

The Zebra wasn’t moving. Nor was Scooby. They were all hunched over their cups, unmoving. He saw one Cat girl blink once, but that was it.
‘You scared ’em, bro.’
Joe turned back, frowned at the Chicken over the jar of cookies. He had pulled out a slice of baked New York cheesecake, crumbled a few pieces on the Cats’ saucers, waddled out from behind the counter. Put some on the Zebra’s plate. On Scooby’s.
‘What’s going on? Like Instagram day, or…?’
‘No, same old, same old. But you scared ’em. They’ll be alright. Just waiting for you to leave.’
‘I didn’t realise…’
‘Don’t worry ‘bout it. Scared of humans is all.’ He scratched a Cat on the top of the head. She leaned into his hand.
‘I’ve got a spare. If you want to stay?’

Joe’s coffee was in a disposable cup. To be drunk outside.
He’d never had anyone scared of him before. It was a weird feeling. Upsetting. Scooby was a big guy, too. Six foot easy.
It looked rainy.
‘I’m not going to hurt them.’
‘Tarred with the same brush, man. You’re human, right?’ He had pulled out a folded up wad of material, which he now unrolled with a jerk of his arm. The contours of a penguin suit tumbled to the ground. ‘But everyone loves a penguin. Am I right?’
Not the one he would have chosen, but it had the cat girl’s attention. And black with a yellow crest on top. His colours.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Can I…?’ ‘He indicated the counter.
‘No problem, bro.’ The Chicken moved back and Jo stepped in behind the counter, took off his trousers and jumper. Pulled on the penguin suit.
‘Suits you, bro,’ said Chicken.

Joe was about to answer—the suit felt good—when he saw a shadow at the door. Someone coming in. A guy with a backpack and big red headphones on his ears. Joe realised that—for some weird reason—he was wearing a penguin suit. The door opened.
He froze.

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The prompts were:

godly
tumble
wink
machine
bake
rainy

The usual writing prompt fiction rules apply.