Chapter Text
He’s not even sure why they chose him.
Joseph, out of everyone, including kind Anne Lester who enjoyed making children laugh or even cheerful Emma Woods who eluded happiness and whatever it was that attracted kids to her, works as a mascot for a Sanrio ice cream shop.
Oh, well. At least he didn’t need to show his face. Or his hands, for that matter, with the way the ridiculous mascot outfit had paws.
Joseph glares at a chubby boy who was waddling into the shop and flips him off.
The stupid brat actually squeals happily and-- Joseph curses-- waddles into dangerous proximity to Joseph.
“Look, Gregory, look! Look at Cinnamoroll! He's waving to you!” The brat was accompanied by his mother, who was clutching onto her pearl studded bag and had a blonde bob cut.
Fuck.
Those sorts of customers were the worst to deal with.
Joseph smiles, before remembering he doesn't have to. He scowls instead.
“Cinnamoroll! Cinnamoroll!” The kid chants. He raises his grubby little hands outstretched. “Carry me, Cinnamoroll!”
Behind the mother, Anne, who was mopping, pauses to lean on her mop, her mouth open in an audible “ Awww .”
“I can't,” says Joseph through gritted teeth. “You're too heavy.”
“What??” The Karen screeches.
“I mean, of course!!”
“Yippee!” The child cheers. “Cinnamoroll! Cinnamoroll!”
Joseph straightens up, jostling his mascot costume slightly loosely before he sneaks a hand to wipe at the sweat gathering on his forehead. He unashamedly stares at the clock.
3 hours left in this shop disguised hell??
“Over here, Gregory!” The Karen calls out to her demon spawn. Gregory does not look over there. He instead decides to throw himself on Joseph.
Joseph thuds to the ground. He lets himself fall, unmoving and stone-faced.
“Oh no!” Anne hurries over. Good. Finally some sympathy for him.
“Don’t worry about me--”
Anne crouches down. “Your name was Gregory, right?” Anne was talking to the child, because of course she was.
The demon spawn chooses to screech at the top of its lungs one more time, before launching himself at Anne.
Now that it was no longer his problem, Joseph took it as an opportunity to flee the scene.
“This is,” hisses Joseph, storming over to Mary, the manager in charge, “the fourth hour I've been in the suit. It's blistering hot, and I haven't had any breaks since 9AM which consisted of cleaning up some kid's puke after their parents decided it was a good idea to buy them two bucket's worth of ice cream.”
Mary barely looks up from counting her dollar bills. “I'll pay you double if you stay for another hour.”
Joseph’s entire demeanor changes. “Mary, have I ever told you how beautiful the work uniform compliments you?” He beams at her. “It’s practically made for you,” Joseph continues to gush.
“I know, I made it that way,” Mary nods appraisingly. “Now get back to work like the pathetic retail worker you are.”
“Oh, of course!”
Joseph barely lasts a minute after returning back to his post.
His life flashes in front of his eyes.
Right in front of him, he sees Emma leading a new wave of children inside the ice cream in a choo choo train line, with a bunch of parents hovering above them, cooing loudly and snapping pictures with the flash brightened to the max.
As if it already wasn’t hard enough to see through the tiny excuses for eyeholes in the Cinnamoroll suit.
When Joseph goes home, he’s going to reward himself with a very cold colada morada. And then he’s going to lock himself shut inside his workroom for the rest of his life.
One of the parents look particularly anxious. “Wait up, Robbie!” She calls out.
The kids are all rushing at him, and is that a kid holding an axe?
“Dolores, if you don’t give me the milk flavored ice cream, I’m going to cry very loudly!” The kid, with a sack over his head, hauls himself over the counter to start grabbing wildly at the ice cream cones.
“Let’s not touch these.” Bless Anne, who had decided that seeing him suffer was not going to weigh well on her conscience. With some nervous nodding from the girl named Dolores, Anne gently pulls him back down.
Despite Anne’s efforts, it all proves in vain, when he watches the kid called Robbie and another little girl reach over the counter. Upon climbing onto the counter and realizing that the other child was there, they started wrestling and attempting to fight the other.
The young box swings an axe at the little girl and she shrieks before she tries to push him to the ground.
What the fuck, Joseph thinks flatly.
He’s also pretty sure this violates several health codes, but who is he to care? As long as it didn’t come out of his pockets.
Emma visibly starts sweating. But before he can relish in this temporary triumph, the kids slowly turn their eyes on their new target, him. Or more specifically, Cinnamoroll.
He clenches his fists at his side.
In front of him, Mary is waving a wad of cash.
Joseph slowly unclenches his fist.
“Cinnamoroll, take a picture with me now!” The little girl is tugging at Cinnamoroll’s left ear. Joseph can feel his costume being pulled in her direction.
“No, Cinnamoroll, give me the milk flavor!” The boy screams. He grabs Joseph’s right hand, hauling his head onto the counter once again. Robbie starts fighting with the little girl again.
“Let’s not grab on Mr. Cinnamoroll’s costume now, Robbie.” The woman is laughing nervously. “You don’t want your head to be caught on that window like last time, do you?”
A man who looks like a novelist stands from his table and rushes over. “Unhand her now, you brute!” He demands.
Naturally, the boy ignores him. “I came here first, so Cinnamoroll has to give me the ice cream first!”
“No!” The little girl stamps her feet on the ground. “I liked Cinnamoroll before you were even born!”
“Mr. Desaulniers.” The man who tried to pick a fight with Robbie fixes Joseph with a glare. “I absolutely cannot comprehend what Memory sees in such an ugly mutt like Cinnamoroll. However, I digress. Now, if you do not give Memory her picture-”
Joseph blanches. “How the hell do you even know my name!”
Next to him, screeching starts to arise as more kids join the fray in an attempt to gain Cinnamoroll’s attention.
“Haha, now now.” From his peripheral vision, he spots Anne slowly edging closer to them, with alarm alight in her eyes. “Let’s not make Cinnamoroll sad.”
Sad? That was an understatement. Did Anne even possess the capabilities to understand him at this point? Did anyone in this god-forsaken ice cream parlour?
He shoots her a desperate look of agony which she, of course, doesn’t see through the suit and looks up at the ceiling. Fuck university debts. Fuck this job. And most of all, fuck capitalism.
Joseph closes his eyes.
That’s it.
He’s had it.
Spreading his arms wide, he gives himself up to the children.
They scream in delight like the brute little fiends they were and viciously attacked.
A strong pull to his right. Joseph can feel several other grubby hands grabbing his suit from the left at the same time.
But that’s fine. Joseph could care less. Through lidded eyes, he could still see Mary counting her cash in the background. Let the children fight, Joseph thought, being tugged in all directions. Or even yet, let it be a battle royale with the sole winner the only child permitted in the shop ever again.
There’s a sound like threads being torn. And it came, Joseph realized too late, from his costume.
And then, to Joseph’s, and every other parent in a three-mile radius’s horror, the fursuit fucking rips .
Aesop Carl is having an awful day. But he doesn’t need to say it out loud. Everyone in the room knows that Aesop Carl is having an awful day.
Tapping the tip of his leather shoe on the ground slowly, he sits crossed-legged, glaring at the small army of businessmen trying to please him. The business plan they had proposed to Aesop was almost laughable, considering their status and experience within the industry.
Did they take him for a fool? The investors and business analytics that were in front of him were utterly inadequate for a rival firm that was supposedly about to out-compete the company. Granted, his mother had warned him earlier about their failed dealings with her and how they might try to target him next, being her heir with the second most company shares.
And not to mention…
“Eli.” Aesop instructs his butler next to him, who bows, with a pleasant smile on his face.
Aesop had always liked that Eli never wore his heart on his sleeve. No matter the occasion, Eli would always wear the same mask of indifference, one of politeness. Simple and efficient.
“Didn’t we already have this meeting exactly one week prior, in this room with the exact same people?”
“I believe so, sir.” Eli responds respectfully.
“So,” Aesop silkily hums, and someone in the room gulps, “why are they here again?”
Eli holds a hand to his chest. “They refused to take no for an answer, sir. They seem very determined in your cooperation and maintaining a good relationship with our company.”
Aesop sighs. He listlessly flicks his hand at the stacks of paper presented to him. Papers, folders, and bookmarks all tumble on the ground. In front of him, the eyes of the man who had spoken previously widen comically.
Aesop takes his time to enjoy the aghast expression on the other man. “I don’t change my mind that easily.”
“As I’m well aware, sir.” Eli’s tone is light. Almost amused.
“Relay that message for them, then.” Aesop stands up, reaching a hand up to his collar to loosen his tie. “It’s a hot day, and my time and patience are dwindling.”
“The young sir wishes to be undisturbed,” Eli helpfully quips to the other men in the room. “Thank you for your time and for contacting us. We will thoroughly think through your proposal. Office hours are around 9AM to 5PM, and we aim to respond in at least 2 working days.”
Aesop rolls his eyes, glancing at his wristwatch. “Make sure they won’t bother me a third time. Do your job, Eli.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ah, Mr. Carl, please--” A shrewd-looking man tries to protest.
But Eli interrupts him, still smiling. “The young sir wishes for you to fuck off.”
The man gives a scandalized gasp.
Another old man, roughly in his fifties, stands up. Spit flies from the man’s mouth when he addresses Aesop.
Both Aesop and Eli wrinkle their noses at him.
“Mr. Carl, we spent two hours this morning waiting in the sun outside your office building, sweating bullets, while your butler spoke to us through the window with the air-con blasting indoors, claiming that we couldn’t see you because we didn’t have an appointment when we clearly did--”
“Must’ve been a computer error,” Eli says smoothly. “I’ll have to check with Luca about that.”
“--and even when we were let in, the customer service was terrible. Why, I’ve been to convenience stores with better services with the way we were simply ignored and left to search the building for your office. And despite all of that, you still dare treat us disrespectfully? Outrageous! Simply outrageous! I won’t have it--”
A very loud ringtone of the “‘The Adventures of Hello Kitty and Friends” theme song blares loudly, interrupting his speech.
The man paused in his rant, an incredulous expression on his face. “What--”
Aesop glanced at his phone, which was buzzing on the glass table. He picks it up, noting the caller ID. “Put the meeting on hold, Eli.” Aesop instructs. “I have to take this one.” Without moving from his chair, he flicks his screen, accepting the call. The phone clicks and the line connects.
“Aesop dear!” His mother’s voice rings through his phone. “How’s my darling little gentleman?”
“Mother!” Aesop drops his legs from his seat. His expression brightens. “I’m doing great today!”
“That’s wonderful to hear. How’s work?”
“Just a few… nuisances in front of me that I need to deal with first.” He narrows his gaze at the men in front of him.
“What do you mean--” A man blabbers off.
Aesop ignores him and focuses on his mother’s voice in his ear.
“Did you see the transaction I input into your card?”
“Transaction?” Hurriedly, Aesop checks his card balance. “What’s the occasion?”
“Oh, nothing much, darling. I just thought you deserved a little treat for working so hard in this heat. Take some time off! I heard there’s a new Sanrio ice cream place near your building.”
Looking at the numbers, Aesop gasps softly, placing a gloved hand to his mouth. “Five hundred thousand, mother? Oh, you spoil me so!”
In front of him, the men murmur within themselves.
Eli observes the scene calmly.
“Only the best for my lovely son.” Coos his mother. Aesop can hear papers rustling in the background. “I’m going on a business trip in Germany today, so go ahead and have dinner without me.”
“Again?” Aesop whines, absent-mindedly spinning on his chair. “But you just got back from the one in America!”
His mother sighs. “I know. We’ve got some potential clients that I can’t afford to lose this time.”
Aesop sulkily looks down and kicks his feet. “All right…”
“I’ve got to go now, but Eli’s told me how hard you’ve been working yourself in my absence.” The background noise from the call increased. His mother raised her voice. “Enjoy the rest of the day, okay?”
“Okay. Have fun on your trip, mother!”
“Love you!”
“Love you too!”
The line dropped. Aesop set his phone on the table and stared coldly back at the man who had been talking to him before the call.
“Clear everything in my schedule for the day, Eli.” Aesop snaps his fingers, brisk and no-nonsensical. “I’m going out for ice cream.”
The very second he says that the businessmen all haul themselves up, eager to get his approval.
“What are you doing?” Aesop frowns at them.
“Let us-- let us accompany you!” A man Aesop has never spoken before in his life hurries over and clasps his hands. “If your mother wishes, let’s all get ice cream!”
The others nod enthusiastically behind him.
“Well, whatever.” Aesop mutters. He could frankly care less whether or not they tagged along. “Eli, where’s the ice cream shop Mother mentioned?”
“I took it upon myself to Google maps it while you were still talking, sir.” Eli presents his phone, displaying the screen.
The man in front of Aesop leans over and scoffs when he sees the description on Eli’s phone. “Sanrio ice cream parlour?!”
“You imbecile!” Another man shushes him up with a hiss. “The Adventures of Hello Kitty is from Sanrio, you fool!”
The first man gapes, going pale in the face.
Aesop ignores their squabbling with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s go, Eli. Lead the way.”
He can hear the frantic rustling of papers and squeaks of their leather shoes on the floor as businessmen hurry behind him.
Going down.
In the lift, Aesop taps his foot on the ground impatiently. The businessmen are standing so close to him that he can see the shine of sweat on the man’s face on his right. The man mops it off with a handkerchief.
Ground floor.
Ding.
The doors open, and Aesop steps out.
Some of his workers from the front desk look up, noting him. “Hello, Mr. Carl!”
“Good afternoon, sir.”
Another one waves. “Mr. Carl!”
Aesop barely acknowledges them with a nod.
He’s aware that most view him as a spoilt heir with a rich mother who was constantly gone on business trips, practically absent most days, leaving the company in his charge.
But who were they to know? His mother had been working herself to the bone non-stop to secure her current position from when they were poor. Admittingly, Aesop wished that she wasn’t always busy, but he wasn’t going to let his emotions get in the way of her ambition. After all, everything she did was for him. He would just do his best to support her.
Next to him, Eli is telling him about the Sanrio shop. “It’s a three-minute walk away from here, so I suppose that it will be convenient if you wish to visit again in the future.”
Aesop nods again, blinking rapidly as he steps into the sun.
Behind him, one of the men makes a pathetic attempt at starting a conversation, scuttling up. “D-Do you like ice cream, Mr. Carl?”
Aesop stares at him in silence, completely deadpan.
The man’s face flushes red. “N-never mind…” He falls back into the pack like the meek little sheep he was.
Eli huffs a laugh, seemingly amused, and quickly covers his mouth with the back of his hand.
What nonsense. Just like most of the people he had dealt with in the past, the businessmen from the rival company saw him as a child barely capable of leading the company, just as a means to appease his mother.
It was for the best that it was Aesop handling them rather than his mother. He had made himself to be as cold and unapproachable as possible. With the type of people he dealt with, being as direct and unimpressed always did the trick.
Leading is much simpler when as many people fear you as possible, anyway. Aesop knows that he’s fair to his workers most of the time, but his punishments are always severe.
Eli’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “We’re here, sir. Is there a particular flavour you’re looking forward to?”
But Aesop is barely listening.
The ice cream parlour was decorated with stickers of various Sanrio characters, with the walls painted with pastel pink and white stripes. There was a small crowd of children and their parents already waiting for their ice cream, with a small commotion going on. And at the front…
Aesop gasps and grips Eli’s arm. “Is that Cinnamoroll?!”
And sure enough, in his cuddly seven-feet white and blue glory, there Cinnamoroll was. Floppy ears drooped from his round head, and his protruded body was snow white with a hint of blue around the eyes. A large pink and yellow ribbon was tied around his neck, and his paws were as short and stubby as they were adorable. They were frantically waving around as Cinnamoroll was greeting the children.
Cinnamoroll was, undoubtedly, Aesop’s dream come true.
Eli glances at Aesop’s wide and starry eyes, looking somewhat bemused. “Er, I think so, sir. But why are there children clinging on to it?”
As they watch, Cinnamoroll, with a few children hanging on to one of its ears, staggers in one direction akin to an injured Godzilla. The employees of the shop are hurrying around with anxious expressions on their faces.
The rest of the children who are watching cheer them on like ancient Romans watching a gladiator bloodbath to the death.
Aesop shakes his head impatiently at Eli and scoffs. “Don’t you know? Children love Cinnamoroll.”
“Hm.” Eli stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Noted.”
“And Cinnamoroll’s not an ‘it’,” Aesop snaps, defensively. “He’s a ‘he’.”
“My apologies.”
Behind them, the businessmen murmur to each other. Aesop can hear something about bribery and cinnamon rolls, but now wasn’t the time for that.
“I want a picture with Cinnamoroll. Get your camera ready.” Aesop orders. He lets Eli’s arm go in favour of briskly walking up to the front of the shop.
Eli brandishes a camera from seemingly thin air. “On it, sir.”
“Mother must have planned all of this out, didn’t she?” Aesop asks, touched. He swipes open his phone, quickly texting on it. “I should thank her at once.”
“I’m sure she was somewhat involved, yes.” Eli tinkers with the camera, before adjusting the lens. “Ready whenever you are, sir.”
“Haha, now now.” In the front, one of the female employees is edging closer to the Cinnamoroll surrounded by the children. She seems nervous, but addresses the kids with a bright smile, clearly trying to stay positive. “Let’s not make Cinnamoroll sad.”
Aesop slips his phone back into the pocket of his blazer. Glancing at himself in the reflection of the glass shelves of the ice cream parlour, he adjusts his tie and runs a hand through his hair.
He can also see in the background Cinnamoroll getting jumped from all directions by excited children who shrieked as they did so, but whatever. In the reflection of the glass, Cinnamoroll dramatically spreads his arms, offering himself.
There’s another loud screech as the kids launch themselves at him. A stagger, and Cinnamoroll goes down.
Feeling somewhat nervous, Aesop turns away from his reflection to approach the Cinnamoroll. He smooths his blazer one last time.
Aesop stops in front of Cinnamoroll, who was writhing in pain on the ground, children all over him.
“Pardon me.” Aesop clears his throat. The excited screaming of the children are loud, but he’s determined to be heard and get his picture, so he increases his volume. “But I would like if--”
He’s interrupted by a loud ripping noise.
Eli, alongside with the small crowd of businessmen and every parent in the ice cream parlour, watches as the decapitated Cinnamoroll head flies in a beautiful parabola arc.
It soars through the air, liberated and free, defying all the rules of physics. Its initial velocity accelerated, climbing higher and higher, before a momentary pause at its peak, searching, searching for something, or rather-- someone.
And finally, with a happy whoop! , it plops itself on Aesop’s head.