It’s Sam the beaver’s first night living with her boyfriend, but he forgot to tell her it was game night. Trying to fit in, Sam tries coffee for the first time. Does she like it a little too much?

Today’s story is “Game Night” by Ian Madison Keller, who has been writing since 2013, and whose newest book is Ritual of the Ancients by Fanged Fiction. You can find more of his stories on his webpage, madisonkeller.net.

Today’s story will be read for you by B. P. Rugger, the ineffable Moo Moon.

You’re listening to The Voice of Dog,

and Today’s story is

“Game Night” by Ian Madison Keller,

who has been writing since 2013,

and whose newest book is

Ritual of the Ancients

by Fanged Fiction.

You can find more of his stories on his webpage,

madisonkeller.net.

Today’s story will be read for you by B. P. Rugger,

the ineffable Moo Moon.

“Game Night”

by Ian Madison Keller

Sam looked around her new home before turning to Oscar.

It was so much bigger than her old space,

but by far the best part was going to be living with her best friend

and partner. The apartment was his.

Her place had been sized for one person,

and definitely not big enough for a Texas Longhorn,

even if he was a miniature one.

Not to mention the fact that her lodge had been half underwater.

“I know you just moved in today,

but I forgot tonight is game night.”

Oscar took a deep breath, and continued, his voice shaky,

“I understand if you’re tired and want to go to bed, since it’s getting late,

but I’d love for you to join us and meet some of my friends.

If not, I understand that this is last minute and everything.

We’ll be quiet so you can sleep.”

Sam almost laughed at Oscar’s nervousness, but she swallowed it down and smiled up at him.

“Did you forget beavers are nocturnal?

Besides, I’m excited to meet more of your friends.

And game night sounds fun.

I love Battle-Manatee and Fluffy: WhoShedIt.

What board games do you usually play?

Not Zoo-opoly, I hope.”

Rather than relaxing him,

her response seemed to have made him more nervous.

He ducked his head and avoided her eyes.

“I didn’t say board games.

Well, uh, you’ll see.”

After doing some unpacking, she helped Oscar bake goodies for his guests,

who were due to arrive soon.

Oscar had thought ahead and bought Sam a stepstool so that she could reach his countertops.

They made popcorn,

herbivore-friendly cookies from pre-made dough,

and avocado dip to go with the bag of tortilla chips Oscar had bought earlier.

Then Oscar pulled a complicated-looking machine out from one of his upper cupboards and set it up on the counter.

Sam eyed it warily as he pulled a gold metallic bag out next and began pouring black beans from it onto a cup on his kitchen scale.

The earthy, nutty smell of the beans made her wish she wasn’t on the stool

and could slap her tail in proper appreciation of the amazing smell.

“What is that?” Sam asked, fascinated as she watched Oscar pour the beans into an electric grinder.

As he hit the start button the smell increased a thousand fold.

She almost drooled into the dip she was mixing.

“Coffee,” he said with a shrug and poured the bean dust into the complicated-looking machine.

Once he’d turned it on he glanced in her direction.

“Haven’t had this type before, I take it?”

Sam shook her head.

“No, I’ve never had coffee before, actually.

But it smells wonderful.”

“You can have some,

but make sure not to drink too much.

The caffeine in it can hit you hard if you haven’t built up a tolerance.

tolerance.” Oscar tapped a hooved-finger against the carafe attached to the bottom of the machine. Dark liquid that had the same divine smell as the beans was slowly dripping into the bottom of it.

“I thought coffee was only for humans?”

Sam wished her stool was closer to the machine.

She stood on the tips of her webbed toes to lean a bit closer.

“Well, it is mostly,

but I acquired a taste for it when I was in college.”

Oscar flashed her a smile.

“It’s useful when you need to stay up all night studying.

Or gaming.” “It’s odd.

I’ve walked past coffee shops in the past, but they never smelled this good.”

Sam took a deep breath, closing her eyes to savor the scent. “Well,

this is special stuff.

Bob makes it himself.

His coffee is world famous.

Some call it the best in the world.

He has a little boutique coffee roasters up in New John’s.”

It looked like he was about to say more,

but at that moment the doorbell rang.

“Coming,” Oscar bellowed,

clomping off towards the front door.

His hooves, encased in his padded house-slippers,

made little sound even on the kitchen’s linoleum.

Apparently the clip-clop of hooves on hard surfaces traveled easily through the walls,

and Oscar, always the good neighbor,

had put them on when they’d entered the kitchen.

There was the creak of a door opening, and then Oscar said,

“Hello, Mandy, come on in.”

Mandy said something to Oscar in return that was too quiet for Sam to make out all the way in the kitchen.

Mandy. Sam recognized the name.

Oscar was always talking about her.

A co-worker, if she recalled correctly.

Curious, Sam jumped off her stool and waddled out of the kitchen.

Mandy turned out to be a nutria a little shorter than herself.

The nutria’s long, thin tail was covered by a bright red knit tail glove that matched her red-and-black plaid flannel shirt.

She wore denim jeans, and her outfit was topped off with a red plaid lumberjack cap with the flaps pulled up

and thick glasses that perched on the edge of her muzzle.

The white fur that should have covered a nutria’s muzzle was hidden by brown make-up to match the light brown color of the rest of her fur.

Sam quite liked how it looked.

“Mandy, this is my girlfriend, Sam Digger.”

Oscar took a step towards Sam

and put a friendly hand on her shoulder.

“Sam, this is my co-worker, Mandy Zrinka.” The nutria clasped her front paws together and looked up at Sam with a grin, showing off her oversized front incisors.

“Oscar’s told me so much about you.

Pleased to finally meet you at last.”

“Same.” Sam held out a paw and shook with Mandy.

“So I take it you’ll be gaming with us tonight?”

Mandy said, pushing up her glasses with one paw.

“That’s the plan,” Sam said brightly.

“Although Oscar hasn’t told me what the game is yet, exactly.”

“Oh, really?” Mandy grinned even wider and hefted off her backpack.

It looked heavy from the way she swung it down.

“Well, you’re in for a fun time.”

“Mandy is our game master.”

Oscar picked up her bag and carried into the dining room,

where he laid in on the table in front of the head seat.

Mandy waddled after him,

her long legs stretching up as she walked so that she was as tall as Sam.

She must naturally crouch when sitting.

“Game master?” Sam asked, following Mandy and Oscar.

Mandy jumped up into the seat at the head of the table and began unpacking papers and books from her bag.

“You’ll see,” Mandy said without looking up from her papers.

“I think I have the perfect character for you, yes,” she mumbled,

louder she called,

“Oscar, I smell coffee.”

“Fresh pot.” Oscar grinned and almost skipped into the kitchen.

Sam moved to follow him and he waved her back.

“No, take a seat. I’ll bring you some coffee, too,

and then get the snacks.”

Sam shrugged and climbed up into the seat closest to Mandy.

Mandy had set up a folded cardboard sheet in front of her and all Sam could see of her now was the fuzzy top of her plaid cap.

The side of the cardboard closest to her had fantastical artwork of humans with strange ears riding a giant lizard with wings,

a hyena man wielding a sword, and a vixen dressed in a long red robe with fire dancing along her paws.

Sam frowned at the pictures and leaned to the side to look at Mandy around the cardboard.

“What kind of game is this, anyway?”

Sam asked. “A game of imagination.”

Mandy grinned and winked at her, sliding a piece of paper across the table to her.

“Here, this is your character.

Luckily I always carry a few pre-gens with me,

just in case. If Oscar had told me you were coming,”

her voice rose until she was yelling the last bit,

then she lowered her voice back to its normal pitch,

“I could have made you something custom.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oscar grumbled as he re-entered the dining room with two steaming mugs.

“I’ve been a bit scattered since we got back from San Jose,

what with planning the move and all.”

Oscar set one of the mugs in front of Mandy and the other in front of Sam.

Sam’s was only half-full of the delicious-smelling dark liquid,

but she ignored it for now so she could place a paw on Oscar’s hand before he withdrew it.

She squeezed his hooved-fingers together and gave him a reassuring smile.

He smiled back and leaned over to give her a kiss on the head between her small, round ears.

The door buzzed. “Ah,

that’ll be Bob or Ronny.”

Oscar squeezed her paw gently back and then withdrew, trotting away towards the door.

“Take a look at your character while I let them in.”

“Fine.” Sam picked up the piece of paper in one paw and the half-full mug of coffee in the other.

She took a sip while she looked over the paper.

The coffee was smooth and rich on her tongue and warmed her throat as she swallowed.

It was bitter, but only slightly,

and that was overpowered by a nutty tang and the sweet undertone of sugar.

Wonderful. She was so caught up in the taste that she didn’t even look at the paper she was holding up in her other paw.

“Sam, Sam?” Mandy waved a paw at Sam’s face until she looked up.

Sam looked up, blinking at her.

“What was that?” “I asked how you liked the character.

You were studying the sheet very intently.

Any questions?” “Oh, uh. . .”

Sam took another sip of the coffee and refocused her attention,

but it was difficult.

The coffee was delicious.

She caught something about Paladin and human.

“Wait, this says my character is human?”

“You have something against humans?”

a voice said. Sam looked up blinking to see Oscar standing next to a human in the living room.

The human was short for one of its kind, barely taller than Oscar’s five feet.

They had brown fur that brushed the tops of their shoulders sprouting from their head

and wore a baggy Oregon Ducks’ sweatshirt.

“What? No, I just, I don’t understand.

I’m a beaver,” Sam said, waving the paper about.

“My name is Ronny.”

Ronny sat in the seat across from her and stuck their hand out across the table.

“Hello, I’m Sam.” She stretched and shook their hand with her paw.

“I told you, it’s a game of imagination,”

Mandy huffed as Sam sat back down.

“Since Oscar didn’t give me warning you have to play a pre-gen character.

And what I had available was a human.”

“Don’t mind her,” Ronny stage whispered at her with a wink.

“She’s just grumpy that Oscar surprised her with a new player.

Oh, is that coffee?”

Their attention shifted to Sam’s mug.

“Yes, it’s really good.”

Sam took another sip,

sad to see that she had just emptied the mug.

The intercom buzzed again.

“That’ll be Bob, then.”

Oscar disappeared around the corner.

While he was gone,

Mandy explained the basics of the game to her.

To be honest, it was rather complicated.

Sam’s head spun and she had trouble focusing on Mandy’s words.

It felt like her heart was racing.

Luckily, Ronny brought the coffee pot back to the table and poured her and Mandy refills.

Oscar came in a few minutes later leading a large weasel of a type Sam wasn’t familiar with it.

The weasel-thing,

Bob, had a black striped mask of fur across his eyes similar to that of a raccoon,

grayish fur, and a long tail that was distinctly free of stripes.

So, not a raccoon then, but not a weasel, either.

Sam didn’t want to ask,

it would have been rude,

so instead she waved to the newcomer.

“Hi, you must be Bob.

I’m Sam. I’ll be joining you tonight.”

He nodded and took the seat next to Ronny, standing on the chair so that his head was almost as high as Ronny’s.

“Nice to meet you.”

“I hear you’re responsible for this delicious brew.”

Sam held up her now empty mug.

“I am. Glad you like it.

You should come check out my shop, The Kopi Kat,”

Bob said, standing up on his tiptoes so he could wave at Mandy over the cardboard.

She looked up from her books long enough to nod her giant incisor-tipped muzzle at him.

“Let’s get this party started,”

Oscar said, sliding the tray of snacks onto the center of the table and then taking a seat next to Sam.

He had an empty mug with him, which he filled from the pot that Ronny had left on the table. Mandy passed around paper sheets to everyone, but Sam was more focused on the almost empty pot of coffee.

“Could you top me off?

she asked, tilting her mug to show Ronny that it was now empty.

The human went to pick up Sam’s mug, but Oscar put a hand over the top of it and shook his head.

“Sam, you’re not used to this stuff.

Give it a few hours before you have more.”

“Alright.” She slumped down in her seat and watched glumly as Ronny shrugged and poured the rest of the pot into their own mug.

“Wait.” She sat up and pointed to Bob.

“Shouldn’t you have given that to him?

It’s his coffee, after all.” “Naw,

it’s cool. I don’t drink the stuff myself, but thanks for thinking of me.”

Bob pulled a small plastic baggie out of his jacket pocket and showed it to her.

It was filled with small green pods.

“I prefer it au naturel.”

With that he opened the bag, picked out one of the pods, and popped it into his mouth.

“Oh, ok.” Sam sat back down and picked up her human paladin’s sheet.

She could do this.

She did it all the time in her job as a detective,

imagining she was the suspect, trying to think like they would have when they committed whatever crime she and her partner were investigating.

However, her paws shook as she tried to look at the paper,

making it impossible for her to read.

In fact, she felt jittery all over.

She flattened the page to the table and stood up in the seat so she could jiggle her leg as she read.

She’d stuck her tail between her legs so that it sat flat in front of her,

and the flat end of the tail slapped rhythmically on the wood of the chair.

The moving helped,

but she still struggled to keep still enough to focus on the game.

“So, Sam, how does your paladin respond to Tessouat?”

“Wait, who?” “Oscar’s monk, Sam.

Pay attention.” “Sorry.

Uh, yeah. I’ll join them on their quest to save the fox kit.”

She spaced out and picked up her empty coffee cup and licked the inside of it,

enjoying every last drop of flavor until the mug was licked as clean as if it had just come out of the cupboard as she listened to Mandy describe the swamp they were entering.

Oscar occasionally gave her worried glances,

but after an hour or so she felt calmer and less jittery and he stopped checking on her so often.

Concentrating on the rules of the game and imagining herself in her character’s place helped.

She was enjoying the game.

Their characters were working together to find the missing kit

and Sam was having fun.

At about midnight Ronny stretched and yawned loudly. “I need

more coffee. Oscar?”

“I could do with a cup myself.”

His big head had been nodding and a few times he’d accidently bopped her head with one of his long horns.

“Me, three.” Mandy’s paw appeared around the screen, pushing an empty mug in Ronny’s direction.

“Yes, please!” Sam practically bounced out of her seat

and she almost threw her mug at Ronny she was so excited.

“None for me,” Bob said, flicking a raw coffee cherry into the air and catching it with a snap of his teeth.

“I’ll get another pot started then.”

Ronny stood up and collected everyone’s mugs.

It was a bit confusing, trying to remember the names of all Oscar’s friends,

hopefully her new friends,

and the names of their characters,

but still Sam was enjoying herself.

While she waited for the coffee to brew, Sam jumped out of her chair and went into the kitchen, enjoying the smell of the coffee as it cooked.

She stood in front of where the coffee pot was in the counter and

jumped up and down a few times to check the level of the pot,

and then, when it didn’t seem to fill fast enough, she waddled a few laps around the living room, into the bedroom, and around the kitchen.

Each time she passed through she hopped to check the level of brew.

Oscar shot her bemused glances as she scurried around but didn’t stop the conversation he was having with Bob about some minutia of the rules that had come up earlier in the session when Bob’s thief had tried to disarm a trap that Sam’s paladin had stepped in.

Finally, the pot was full.

Sam pushed her stool over and jumped on it, reaching for the pot with one paw and her mug with the other.

“Here, I can help you with that.”

Ronny reached for the pot.

“It’s heav—” “No, I can do it.” Sam yanked the pot out before Ronny’s hand could reach the handle,

swinging her tail with the movement to give herself more momentum.

Unfortunately, Ronny had been right.

The pot was heavier than expected.

The glass carafe shifted only slightly.

Her tail hit the cupboards on the side of the counter, and she spread her feet out,

trying to keep her balance as it bounced off.

But she’d forgotten she was on a stool.

The toes of one of her feet went over the edge and then the stool tilted to the

side. Instinctively she flailed her arms, trying to keep from tipping over. Her mug flew out of her paw and across the room, narrowly missing hitting Ronny, who ducked just in time.

It smashed into the cupboards.

Her flailing wasn’t enough.

The stool went one way and she went the other, dragging the pot of coffee off the counter with her.

She hit the floor on her side, landing on her elbow.

The glass pot of coffee smashed into the floor next to her head with a loud crash and shattered into a thousand pieces,

splashing her,

Ronny, the cupboards, and the floor with coffee and glass.

Sam still gripped the black plastic handle,

which now was attached to nothing.

Shards of glass glittered along her fur and all over the floor.

“What happened?” Oscar bellowed,

and a moment later him, Bob,

and Mandy stood in the doorway to the kitchen staring in shock at the mess.

“My coffee!” Bob wailed, dropping to his knees and clutching his head.

“Do you know how much poop I had to dig through to make this many beans?”

“What?” Sam dropped the plastic handle to the floor, where it landed in a puddle of delicious smelling coffee.

She had to have misheard him.

“Never mind about the coffee, Bob. Are you two okay?” Oscar slipped off his house slippers and clopped through the mess,

heedless of the broken glass.

It wouldn’t hurt him,

not with his hooves,

and Ronny, like all humans she’d ever seen, wore shoes,

and was also safe from having her feet cut up.

Not like her own bare paws.

“I’m fine. Just, um,”

Ronny held her arms out to the side and gently shook her sleeves.

Coffee and broken glass flew off.

“I’ll need to borrow a shirt and pants to wear home.”

The coffee had hit her jeans the hardest, and they were brown from the knees down.

“Sorry. I’ll buy you new clothes,”

Sam said as she let Oscar pick her up with one muscled arm.

She draped over it like a kit hanging from its mother.

With his other hand Oscar opened one of the coffee-splashed drawers and pulled out a tea towel,

which he used to gently brush glass from Sam’s fur.

“I donate my coffee to you guys out of the goodness of my heart, and this is how you treat it!”

Bob stood in the entrance to the kitchen,

wailing and ranting.

Mandy adjusted her glasses and surveyed the mess.

“If we work as a group,

we can get this cleaned up quickly so we can get back to the game.”

“Bob, I’m sorry about the coffee. I really am.”

Sam hung her head and let Oscar finish brushing off her and Ronny.

“I’ll pay you what it’s worth, if it means that much to you.”

Mandy opened the hall closet and pulled out a broom.

Bob huffed and glared at Sam, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Yes, you will.” Oscar clopped back out of the kitchen and gently set her on the dining room carpet next to

Bob. “I’ll go get the mop.

You wait here.” Sam nodded.

Ronny came out next,

rubber shoe soles squeaking on the wet floor.

She took her shoes off by the edge of the hardwood floor and stepped on to the carpet.

“Oscar, mind if I borrow some clothes?”

Oscar reappeared with a mop and a bucket.

“Go for it. Top drawer of the dresser should have stuff that will fit you.”

“Thanks.” Ronny gingerly walked in the direction of the bedroom.

Oscar went into the bathroom with the bucket.

Bob was still glaring at her while Mandy began sweeping up the glass shards she could reach from the carpet.

“So, how much do I owe you?”

He sniffed and glanced at the mess in the kitchen. “Hmm,

that was what, eight regular sized mugs worth?

At my coffee shop that many cups would cost seven hundred dollars.”

Sam had pulled out her wallet and been thumbing through the bills as he spoke,

but she gasped and almost dropped the wallet when he finished.

“What!” she squeaked.

That was more than a week’s wages.

Mandy stopped sweeping and turned to watch them, her whiskers twitching.

“C’mon, Bob, cut Sam a break. It was an accident.”

Bob shot a glare over his shoulder at Mandy and sniffed.

“Kopi Luwak coffee is a fine delicacy, you know that.”

Mandy shook her head and went back to sweeping,

and Bob turned back to Sam.

“It takes me days to poop out enough beans for a single cup--”

“WHAT!” she screamed this time.

“Poop out!” “Shhhh,” Oscar hissed from the bathroom over the sound of running water.

“It’s midnight and my neighbors are sleeping.”

“Sorry,” Sam said sheepishly.

“Well, yeah. That’s how Kopi Luwak coffee is made.

Palm Civet cats, like me, eat the coffee cherries.

It goes through our digestive tract, but we can’t digest all of it so part of the bean comes out in the poop.

We pick it out and then roast it, like regular coffee.”

“I’ve been drinking poop water all night?”

Sam gagged and scrapped at her tongue.

“Didn’t you say you enjoyed it before you knew what it was?”

Bob sniffed again,

lifting his long thin muzzle into the air to look sideways at her.

“Typical.” “You’re right,

I’m sorry. It was actually tasty, I just,

um,” Sam clutched her wallet.

“I guess the method of production caught me by surprise.”

“Now,” Bob held out a paw, glaring at her with his shiny black eyes.

“My money?” Sam sighed and closed her wallet.

“I don’t have that much with me,

I’m sorry. I’ll have it for you next week.”

She had offered, after all.

“Fair enough.” Bob offered her a smile.

Mandy put down her broom and dug a wallet out of the front pocket of her plaid shirt.

“Here, I’ll help you out.

I saw you obsessing over the coffee and should have said something.”

“No, Mandy, I’m not taking your money.

She’s the one who spilled it.”

Bob pointed at Sam.

Oscar reemerged from the bathroom with a sloshing bucket of water.

“Does he pay that much for the beans?”

Sam asked, pointing at Oscar, who blinked at her in surprise.

“Naw, I donate beans to him for our weekly game night.

My way of contributing.”

He offered Oscar a polite nod,

and he nodded back.

“Bob makes the best coffee in the country.”

Oscar set the bucket by the kitchen and plunged the mop into it.

“We really appreciate his donation.”

“Do you know how it’s made?”

Sam rounded on him, glaring up at him.

She couldn’t believe he’d fed her poop water without warning her,

although she had to admit that Bob was right.

It had been good. Great, even.

Despite knowing its secret she was still craving another cup.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.

Humans had been drinking it for centuries before the Uplifting.”

Oscar began mopping the floor, then paused,

wincing. “Oh, I forgot to tell you that part, huh?”

Sam nodded, but her anger was cooling rapidly.

Obviously none of them thought it was a big deal, by the way they’d all drunk it during the night,

and it probably hadn’t occurred to them that she hadn’t known.

Bob was nodding along to Oscar’s words. “Yeah, it used to be really exploitative of the civets, with the humans forcing them to eat the beans.

Now that we can choose whether to participate it is much more ethical.”

Oscar turned to Bob.

“Look, don’t make Sam pay for an accident.

She’ll be more careful from now on,

right, Sam?” She slapped her flat tail against the carpet, making Bob jump.

“That’s right, Oscar. I promise I’ll be more respectful of your coffee in the future, Bob.”

Bob brightened up, straightening his spine to stand up tall.

He grinned at her.

“Fine, as a favor to Oscar,

I won’t charge you,

just this once.” “Now, let’s all get this cleaned up so we can go back to game,”

Mandy said, grinning at them.

“If we all help it will go quickly.”

This was “Game Night” by Ian Madison Keller,

read for you by B. P. Rugger,

the ineffable Moo Moon..

You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,

or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

Thank you for listening

to The Voice of Dog.