“It was a strange sort of hybrid, I tell you.” Jed gulped back a glass of whiskey with a quick toss. From his wobble and the fumes, it wasn’t his first. But his hand still shook more than adrenaline could explain.

Who’d have thought? Jed Nelson was afraid. In front of the whole town, no less.

I wondered what would happen when he sobered up and realized he needed to deny the whole thing, or claim to have had a fit like his uncle did years back. Stark raving mad, that man was, but he never recovered.

I suddenly wondered if Jed would sober up.

But he continued. “I tell you, it looked as though its front half was the front-end of a lion with silver fur, and its back half was the rear-end of a dragon. Complete with wings! And with gold scales.”

“And you didn’t bring me a one o’ them gold scales, didja?” One of the barmaids sneered at him. All this time he’d spent here and he hadn’t tipped her yet.

I hastily reached into my wallet and slid her a fiver. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Who’d have thought Jed would go down in a blaze of embarrassment like this?

You can’t live down embarrassment in a small town. Not really. You’re always “the one who…” after something this big.

I knocked back my own drink, and was emboldened enough to join in after I caught a glimpse of the bar’s namesake.

“Pretty sure it was Tabitha.” Heads turned in unison, watching the black tabby lick her front paw from atop the unused pool table. She wove her way in between the scattered, colorful object balls a whirl.

Laughter broke out, and I took another sip to hide a slight smile. Jed had gotten one over on me years back, and I’d lived with the shame since.

We didn’t think anything of the roar outside. Just another rattletrap pickup wheezing its last gasps. Another bike from some tough guy who wanted to be tougher than he was. Not until the walls broke in with a blast worse than the tornadoes back in ’19.

But I didn’t mind so much when Jed got eaten first. If I had to die tonight, drunk and watching my mortal enemy go first wasn’t a bad way to go. Right?

***
I’m late, very late! I was on vacation and lost track of the days. Last week’s prompt was from AC Young, about a spectacular hybrid. Mine went to nother Mike, who did a fantastic job with the wight board (yep, that’s spelled right). Check it out here – and come join the fun, if you’re so inclined!