The Other stood leaning against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. He was glaring at the espresso machine, or, more accurately, he was glaring above the espresso machine where the photographs of Tallullabell’s Coffeepots of the Month were framed. On the wall were three pictures of Rose: in the first she was yawning, in the second she seemed stoned, and in the third she looked simply annoyed.

“So as I was saying,” said Tom, the 20-year old who had recently been promoted to manager, “after you rinse off the bake sheets, you must let the air dry for precisely ten minutes because if you wait too long- Oh, wait, here comes a customer.”

The Other turned without interest to stare at a middle-aged woman who approached the counter with some trepidation. After glancing shyly at Tom, she said, “I’d like to order a large, non-fat frappacino with an extra shot. To go.”

“Would you like to upgrade to our super extra-grandé size?” the Other inquired blandly. Then, knowing Tom was watching, he was forced to add, “It’s frapp-tastic.”

“Oh yes!” the customer beamed. “That’s why I keep coming back here. It’s for the excellent service.”

The Other winced.

As soon as the woman walked away, Tom came up and put his arm around the Other. “That was pretty good, sport,” he complimented, although the Other was clearly much older than him. “In fact, it reminds me of someone... someone that used to work here...”

“Her?” the Other asked casually, motioning to Rose’s pictures.

“That’s right! She was such a good employee, despite her tardiness. That is, until she mysteriously disappeared awhile back. If only I could remember her name...”

“Rose,” the Other whispered menacingly. “Her name was Rose.” Then he swore viciously, and with a frightful display of fury brought his fist crashing down on the counter. A few weeks ago, the counter would have been split into pieces, if not obliterated completely, but all the Other received for his efforts was a stinging palm. Tom backed away slowly, and for the hundredth time since he had been banished to the Normal Realm, the Other swore his revenge. He looked up just in time to see a man dressed all in blue with a German Shepard at his side come up to the counter.

“Is there a problem here?” the canine unit officer asked.

---

Well, that's it. That's the end. I realized that I had been slacking off on posting the last few chapters, so I just posted them all at once. Sorry for the long waits in between chapters, guys. You know how it is.

So now I would like to thank some people. First, Anne Bishop, whose ideas we mercilessly plagiarized. We apologize Anne, and we thank you for not striking us down with a law suit.

And more importantly, I would like to thank everyone who read this. It really does mean the world to us. So thank you.

And last but not least, we are currently in the process of editing this entire story. We really can't leave all the Anne Bishop references in there, and the plot holes aren't that great either. So we're starting over, and this time we're going to try and do it right. We've just finished chapter five. One day we'd like to con somebody into actually publishing it for us.

Don't forget to stay tuned for the sequel.

Thanks again! We love you!

Sincerely,

Capricious Colleen, Audacious Amanda, and Side-Scatter Sarah