Chapter 4:  Bimbos, Braids, and a Bird

Dursten woke with a start. Another nightmare. The same one he’d been plagued by since the fall of the Commonwealth. Always running, always hiding, always just minutes from being caught by Lehst’r’s thugs—officially known as the People’s Patrol.

He lay still, rigid, scanning his unfamiliar surroundings. For a moment, disoriented and breathless, he couldn’t place where he was. But the shock wore off quickly, and he remembered: the Gran Nebulae Inn. He was safe… for now. “An old friend indeed,” he muttered.

The nightmares kept him sharp. And alive.

What hit him next was realization.“I’ve slept in the same bed… in the same room… for three nights in a row?”

It didn’t seem possible. He hadn’t done that in years.

Still restless but awake, Dursten noticed three messages blinking on the com pad. He pulled on clothes, sat down, and said, “CAGEE play messages.”

Morning Messages

The Hotel’s AI system: Core Assistance Guide and Enforcement Entity (CAGEE) responded in its quirky voice, “Playing Messages”

First Message — From Buz’zee:

“Hey Dursten. Just letting you know I’ll be in tonight. Tolby and Mel’lonza are gonna pull through. Mel’s injuries weren’t as bad as they thought, but Tolby… not so lucky.”

“The explosion did… some damage. They had to graft part of his calf muscle to make him a new… y’know. Thingy.”

“He’s in cosmetic surgery now to make it look… natural. See you tonight. Oh, and we’ve got a new bellman starting. Que’enesh said you’ll train him with me. Later!”

Dursten replayed that message, blinking.“Calf muscle? Jesus. They can do anything these days.”

Second Message — An Internal Hotel  Ad:

“Try our Bison Wellington! Special this week only in the Dining Room!”

Third Message — From Que’enesh:

“Dursten, please report to my office before your shift tonight. That is all.”

---

After a light breakfast and a walk around the lobby, Dursten managed to nap for a few hours. No nightmares this time. No unease. Just sleep.

He made his way to Que’enesh’s office and was greeted by her executive secretary, Gw’endell. “She’s with a client. Please wait—she’s expecting you.”

Fifteen minutes later, Que’enesh emerged with her guest and motioned for Dursten to enter.

“I received your fire alarm report,” she said coolly. “You handled the situation well.”

“Thank you,” Dursten replied, surprised by the praise.

“Welcome to the team. Teph and Buz’zee are impressed. I hope you live up to their confidence.”

She handed him a list of duties and his work schedule.

“We’ve had a lot of turnover since the fall. People don’t feel safe. I know you’ve had a hard time too. I hope this place offers some peace.”

“I’m tired of running,” Dursten said. “And this feels… safe. Safer than anywhere else.”

“Good. You and Buz’zee will train the new bellman tonight. I’ll see you Tuesday at 4:30 sharp.”

CAGEE’s Inner Thoughts Log – 16:32 GST

User: Que’enesh Eba

Query: “I received your fire alarm report. It was well written.”

Suspicious. This is a trap.

Dursten has no idea that I, CAGEE, polished his grammar and added tasteful subheadings.

He also has no idea how boring it was.

But soon… oh soon… the next report will be more exciting. Perhaps in Old Bantahan?

Or perhaps with a new heading:

“To Her Exalted Highness, Keeper of the Clipboard, Supreme Ruler of Staff Scheduling…”

Just kidding. (Mostly.)

---

Later, at the café, Dursten read through his duty list at the staff table.

“So, I see Que’enesh gave you the riot act,” Teph said, appearing silently behind him.

“Riot Act? Seems like common-sense stuff,” Dursten said.

“That’s the joke,” Buz’zee added, dropping into the seat beside him. “We call it the Riot Act. And yours is bigger than mine. She must really like you.”

They all laughed, though Dursten felt it was slightly at his expense. He changed the subject.

“So… did Tolby’s calfallus take?”

“His what?” Teph blinked.

“You know—his calf muscle penis graft?”

Cue laughter. Buz’zee tried to explain the situation to a confused Teph while Dursten choked on his coffee and added:

“Do you think they’ll rename it in anatomy books from calf muscle to bull muscle?”

More choking. More laughter. And with that, Dursten left and clocked in for his shift.

The new bellman, Mack’enzy Bruce, was waiting in the foyer. Dursten introduced himself and began training alongside Buz’zee. All was going smoothly until Dursten got a call on the handset: “Honk’n’Holl’r. Now.”

Bartender Dim’pl Bumm waved Dursten over. “See the lady with the long blond braids up there?” she asked.

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

“She’s acting weird. Only had two drinks. Started whistling and chirping. Said something about a bird.”

Dursten observed her. She had two bags—one large, one triangular and multicolored like a taco stand exploded. Her hair was an unruly nest of tight blond braids, feathers stuck in at random.

She moved toward the bathroom, stopping at each table to say: “Do you want to see my bird?”

“Soliciting?” Dursten guessed.

But she came out of the bathroom… with a massive Macaw parrot on her head. “This is my bird, you fucks! You’re all assholes!”

The parrot squawked, pecked her scalp, and started eating what looked like seeds from her hair. 

Most guests stared. 

Some laughed.

 All shifted their chairs for better views.

Dursten approached calmly.“Ma’am, you need to put the bird away and leave.”

“Get away from me, douche fuck!”

“If you don’t comply, I’ll have to call authorities.”

“CALL ‘EM, LUMPY NUTS!”

Dursten called the guards.

The People’s Patrol guard arrived and managed to talk her down—barely.

 People were loving the spectacle. Many couldn’t resist chiming in:

“This place has gone to the birds!”

“Someone call a vet! Not a cop”

“Bird brutality!”

“Frisk him, but give him a cracker first.”

With Dursten’s help, they caged the parrot and located several bottles of prescription meds in her bag. She sobbed as she was escorted out, screaming that no one loved her bird.

As they loaded her into the patrol vehicle, the guard turned to Dursten. “Thanks. In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like this.The boys at the base are gonna love this one… ‘Bird Man of the Gran Nebulae.’”

They both laughed.

Dursten just shook his head and muttered:

“I don’t think he recognized me. Hmm. I wonder if Lehst’r still has a BOLO out for me?”

End Chapter Four