It was a slow moment in Junglelaughter’s Pet Pavilion. Derrick Jangoral had finished his side of the maintenance work, and was reading the paper before beginning on finances. He had his head and torso on the carpet and his legs on an easy chair, with a ferret sleeping around his neck like a furry necklace. His sole current employee, Joy Driver, was filling the birds’ feed trays in their against-the-wall aviary. On the other wall was a pond filled with fish and amphibians, and tanks filled with reptiles. The floor and assorted furniture was inhabited by every kind of mammal kept as a pet, none of which tried to hurt any of the others, though they didn’t play with each other either. They acted like the other species did not exist.

Derrick never left the store except on Sundays, and if he left for any longer than four hours, the balance he kept among the pets would break, resulting in carnage. Everything was noisy and animal-smelling enough as it was. Such was the price of using magic to run a business.

“Ahh! Gi-normous cricket alert!” Joy shouted, scattering sunflower seeds around the carpet. She was much more light in coloring than Derrick, who accentuated his darkness by wearing black. Joyce wore black too, but it was lacy and full of fishnets, buckles, and straps. The ensemble was topped with a black beret. Her skin, though, was pale peach, with golden brown hair, blue-green eyes, and a Nordic face. Her grandparents were German and she spoke it fluently, though was American to the last degree.

Derrick didn’t respond. Joy sighed. She was only here for eighteen months, enough time to fill in for her best friend Taylor while she was away on her mission. She needed the money to afford a degree in sociology as well. Derrick was nice, and she could see why Taylor wanted to marry him, but he could be hard to work with. He never found things upsetting, he had no social skills, and he was too powerful for someone living in a small town in the eastern United States.

“Excuse me, there are crickets hopping all over the floor.” The cats chased them, the dogs barked at them, the birds ate them, and the rodents ran away from this army of insects.

“Yes?”

“Remember what I told you? The majority of normal human beings do not appreciate being pushed into a corner by a mass of bugs.”

Finally raising his eyes from the news, Derrick gazed, nonplussed, at Joy, who had backed up against an empty wall and was waving her bucket at the crickets in a threatening manner. “Please do not squash them. I do not object to people eating animals, or to animals eating animals, but to people killing harmless – “

“I get it. You can make them go away, right?”

Derrick beckoned. “Crickets, my friends, chirpers, I entreat you to go back to the pond.”

As they retreated, some being eaten by cats along the way, Joy grumbled, “You’re way more psychic than I am, and it doesn’t make sense how autistic you can act.”

Joy had diagnosed Derrick with a variety of disorders since she met him, and he believed none of them. “I can only sense links – who needs what pet. You were suffering from an excess of pets, if you consider crickets pets, and thus went under my radar.”

Under her annoyance, Joy was the sweetest person who ever lived, so she chuckled and gave him an upside-down hug. “Fine. What do you want me to do now?”

“Crivens!” Derrick grabbed onto Joy’s ankle.

She tried to move away and found she couldn’t. “What is it? And why are you exclaiming in phrases only Terry Prachett characters use?”

“I knew this day would come. Every entrepreneur dreads this day, and I know what goes on in those places. They think of nothing but filthy lucre. Curse them! Curse them to Hades!” It was amusing to Joy to what lengths Derrick would go to express his feelings without swearing.

“Let go of me, please.” The skin under his fingers had turned white.

Derrick released her. “Forgive me. Crime of passion. But look at this!”

“You’re all topsy-turvy.” She dragged him to a sitting position on the floor, and he tipped over backwards and stayed there, still with the ferret.

His ire was towards a tiny blurb in the local paper: “ ‘Pets R Us’ Opens In Laconia Today”.

“There’s no need to feel threatened. People in town are devoted to you. Well, the ones who know you’re here. You don’t advertise.”

“I would never advertise. Advertising is a disease. The store appears to the people who need it, so why should I advertise? Anyway, do you know what sort of people will go to Pets R Us? The kind this shop won’t take.”

Joy shrugged. “I don’t see what the problem is, then.”

In a single, swift motion, Derrick went from a completely horizontal position to completely vertical. There seemed to be nothing in between. He spoke rapidly, with so many gestures that, if he were in an audition, he would be accused of overacting. “Of course there’s a problem. Junglelaughter’s won’t reveal itself to people who get a pet on a whim. We only serve those who will love and cherish an animal, stick with it, mourn it when it leaves them, and never abandon them. Pets R Us’ clientele will be those who get a kitten for Christmas so their children will stop whining. Then, when it gets to be much trouble, they dump it in the middle of the woods. Then the cat grows up and eats our wild birds, or it becomes sick and miserable, or it attacks other children. I can’t allow this!”

Joy tried to massage his shoulders and spoke in a soothing voice. “I know it bothers you, but it happens all over the world, and you can’t stop that.”

“Yes, but I’m not going to sit by and let it happen in Laconia. Laconia is a special place. Laconia is the way the world should be.”

“What, largely inhabited by Elves, part-demons, vampires, werewolves, dryads, nymphs, real Wicca, shape-shifters, writers, and psychiatrists?” She wasn’t anything nonhuman herself, but Joy was perceptive and, unlike most of the Laconia humans, knew what was going on.

“I mean an idiosyncratic town, an individual town, a town with local flavor and a bit of enchantment. I don’t want another cookie-cutter assemblage of fast food, movie rental, grocery store, funeral home, on and on so we look like everywhere else.”

“You’ll still make a living just fine. They can’t duplicate what you have.” Joy knew Derrick never abused his abilities, but she didn’t want to be around when he began.

Derrick shook his head, put on his coat, and stalked out the door. “Hold down the fort, O Tidings of Comfort and Joy, I won’t be gone long. If the crickets come out again, you have my permission to hide in the accessories room and dust the tanks.”

Derrick didn’t have a car, so it was after forty minutes of speedy walking that the tall, gangly figure burst through the glass doors of Pets R Us. Where Derrick’s shop looked like somebody’s overrun house, Pets R Us looked like the mall. The lights glimmered fluorescent, the floors clicking waxed, and rows upon rows of pets in boxes, tanks, and cages met his eyes. Ignoring the perplexed glances of passersby, Derrick stalked up to the first employee he could find. “I would like to see the manager, please.”

“What about, sir?” the man asked. He was a little older than Derrick, nearly thirty, and looked like his family hailed from the Philippines.

“I believe in honesty, and I believe in being fair, even though you work for a soulless corporation and not for any living, breathing person.” Derrick swept his arms out. “I came to warn you about a calamity that will befall this store.”

“Are you threatening us?” The man bit his lip, and mumbled, “You have a ferret on your shoulder.”

Derrick noticed his companion. “Oh, I forgot that he was there. I’m not a lunatic. I own the real pet shop of Laconia.” Following his unspoken invitation, the ferret scurried into his arms, where he stroked it.

The other man sighed and dug into the pocket of his glaring orange apron, calling for the manager, and possible security in a few minutes. Derrick pretended not to notice the insult. The manager shortly came, a portly woman in her forties. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“My name is Derrick Jangoral, and I own the original pet shop of this town. I would like to advise you to sell your current stock, then pack up and leave.”

The manager chuckled. “Seriously, what’s the problem? And is that one of ours?”

“Do you doubt me? Desdemona is my ferret, thank you.”

“I know there’s a tiny pet place here already, but we tried to find it and didn’t see it anywhere. If you’re that hard to find, I don’t see how you’ve got any edge at all. We just want to offer people convenience and value.”

“You know nothing of value. You know only of quantity, money, time, and comfort. I know value. If you dismiss me, your animals are all coming with me. I will return them to you once you see reason.”

“I heard Laconia had a problem with crazy people,” the manager began, but stopped in fright when she saw an orange blaze erupt in Derrick’s eyes.

“Only those who know insanity may call themselves crazy. We are to call them hurt, or lonely, or afraid, or experienced. Now, I will speak, and when I finish speaking, all the locks on all the cages of the animals that breathe oxygen will come undone. You may keep the fish.” He raised his voice so all the animals would hear him. “They shall not fight one another, and they shall not harm the innocent, but they will follow me. It is not theft, for I will do it in plain sight, without touching any of your property. We shall negotiate back at my store.”

“Security…”

“Now!” Derrick shouted.

The locks of each cage clicked open, and the animals pushed forwards. The dogs came first, brown, black, and white streaks of fur. The cats followed, leaping, and the birds shot through the air. The rodents overwhelmed the paths and ran. All the people screamed, and several ran for the exit, competing with the animals. It was like Noah’s ark after they hit land and all the animals were desperate to get off the confounded boat. “Lizards, hurry up, please,” Derrick called. “Oh, honestly.” Desdemona jumped off him to join the throng, and Derrick picked up an iguana and two chameleons that couldn’t keep up.

“You can’t do this!” the manager shrieked, turning purple.

“Watch me, my friends, watch me.” He led the crowd, as they pushed through the doors and out onto the street. Traffic came to a halt as people gawked, reporters rushed in but couldn’t wade their way through the animals to reach Derrick, and five parrots swiftly attacked a policeman who tried to shoot him. Derrick laughed and laughed.

It didn’t last, as fun things never do, and when he reached Junglelaughter’s, several people were there, waiting for him. His old friend Lira Fletcher stood in front with her arms folded. For a half-Elf half-Eudemon dressed in a business suit, she looked amused, but with a core of steel. “Derrick, you know you can’t do this.”

“Why not? I didn’t hurt anyone.” He stuck out his lower lip in a pouting expression, and one of the government officials giggled. “You Official Magics-Humans Institute spoils everything.”

“Our job is to spoil things for people who are showing off,” said one of their Interspecies Police. “The Elves sense your emotions are not malicious, but it’s still a felony.”

“I didn’t even touch anything. It’s not covered under human law.”

“We will not arrest you if you send all the animals back now, and tell them to go back into their cages and behave,” said the Interspecies Police officer.

“Can I at least make them a little rowdy and cause Pets R Us some headaches?” Derrick asked.

“No.”

“Please? I’ll give you a Heart-Healer, because I think you need it.” Heart-Healers were pets Derrick had invented and patented. Nobody knew what they really looked like, for they appeared to be whatever animal the viewer would like to see most, real or fantasy.

He looked tempted, but…“That would be accepting a bribe. Send them back.”

Derrick slumped on the doorstep. “Go back, animals. Forgive me.” The animals turned and headed to the hated chain store.

Lira squeezed his hand before she left for her car. “My husband wants to invite you over for dinner tonight. We know it’s hard for you with your lover gone.”

“Thank you. I accept. But no calling me crazy.”

“Never, Derrick. Your blessing is that you have the ability to help and make the world better, while your curse is that it never seems to be enough.”

Joy ran out of Junglelaughter’s. “I think I’ll join the parade,” she said, skipping off. Children ran to follow the animals, and they made quite a procession. People took photographs, and the story made headlines all over the country.

Nobody ever found Derrick Jangoral in order to interview him. No reporter could find him. When Joy did, he was playing checkers with a parakeet and losing.