Meeting Mothman in the Coffee Shop

Is that.. Is that really him? Tall wings of luscious.. Is it feathers? Or fur? Either way, I thought he would be taller and yet I can’t look away from him or his bicycle brake eyes scanning the menu in search of today’s selection. Those fur-slash-feathers seem to suck the light around him like they’re a black hole I would gladly swim through. Oh, who am I kidding? Everyone’s favorite Cryptid wouldn’t be interested in my scaley claws. Or a body that’s 40 feet long while my legs are as long as a croc’s. Besides, how could I invite a glorious moth to visit me in my home under a lake? Fur-slash-feathers can’t be comfortable when soaking wet. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh Shit. He’s walking over towards me. Okay, deep breaths to hide your excitement. Just act normal. You can do that. You’re a regular old cryptid and can act like one. Yeah, I got this. I’m just going to look at… that poster! Yeah! The… handwashing poster… shit. He’s a fellow cryptid, it’ll be fine… Wait, what is fame made him stuck up? And he gets mad about me being In His Space? Whatever, poster, yeah. Oh, wait, that’s my order…

“Oh! Did we order the same drink? I’m sorry, you were here first so this is definitely yours.”

He’s talking to me?! Fuck, answer him! Quick! “Hah, I guess so. Not a whole lot of cryptids get their coffee Dread Free around here.”

“Yeah, which is weird because not everyone wants Dread. I’m Mothman by the way. You must be Bear Lake Monster?” He knows who I am?! What?? “I’m on my way to that new exhibit at the museum about what humans think cryptid zoology is like… Would you like to join me? After my coffee is ready of course.”

He knows who I am? FuckFuckFuck. Act cool. “Yeah, that sounds fun.”