The door slammed shut behind them.
The smell hit first.
Dick immediately wrinkled his nose.
“Jeez… smells worse than a cheap space bus toilet in here…”
Jackie didn’t answer.
Her eyes, like a predator’s, slowly scanned the bar’s inhabitants.
“Aigo…” she said quietly. “Yeah… this is exactly how I imagined a place like this…”
She glanced at Dick.
He was still eyeing the door like he was seriously considering: Maybe we should get the hell out while we still can?
The music crackled.
The jukebox lit up—an old space blues track.
JUKEBOX #12
The bar “Three Tits” roared like always.
- Someone was yelling.
- Someone was fighting.
- Someone fell off a stool.
- Someone was trying to buy a drink using a dead man’s ID.
- Someone got launched into a wall.
Three Tits hadn’t changed.
Like there was a whole separate dimension behind that door.
The most dangerous place in the universe.
And still—
“Fuck…” Dick huffed. “Feels like we’re home.”
He shook his head.
“Heard so much about this place…
this dump already feels familiar.”
Just like always, T.8.0.0 approached them.
Face like metallic death.
Still wearing that flower apron.
Which somehow made him look both terrifying…
and weirdly cute.
“Bienvenidos,” T.8.0.0 began in a voice like he was signing a death sentence.
“Por favor, come in. We are always happy to welcome new guests.”
He gestured politely.
“Where would you like to sit?”
Dick swallowed and rasped:
“Uh… somewhere in a corner.
As far from everyone as possible, if that’s an option.”
He nodded toward Jackie, who was practically glowing, staring at the android waiter.
“My friend’s first time in a place like this.
Wouldn’t want someone’s unwashed face flying into our table.
You know what I mean.”
T.8.0.0 raised his right hand, extending his thumb and pinky.
“Perfecto. Then please, follow me.”
Doce at the bar was still “juggling” all six arms—taking orders, making drinks, collecting payment, and wiping the counter all at the same time.
Jackie saw that bartender circus and let out a quiet gasp.
The apron-wearing android seated them in the left corner—exactly where, Dick realized, the Author had been sitting earlier that morning, right next to the jukebox.
Guess that’s the newbie spot, he thought.
T.8.0.0 said briefly:
“Someone will be with you shortly.”
And disappeared into the crowd, serving other customers.
Not even a minute passed.
Someone did come.
And not just anyone.
The queen of the bar herself. Tresbola.
She smiled warmly, stepped between Dick and Jackie, and said softly:
“¡Qué encantador! We always love tourists…
Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it here.
If you need anything—come straight to me.”
Dick looked at the three-breasted queen of the bar, swallowed, and muttered under his breath:
“Shit… she really does have three ti—”
Jackie stomped on his foot, cutting him off, and shot him a look like an angry cat ready to pounce.
“Stop.
You wanna leave this place upside down?
Let us at least sit here for ten minutes.”
Tresbola burst out laughing and placed a hand on Jackie’s shoulder.
“Cariño, that’s a normal reaction…
What can you expect from los hombres pobres.”
She looked at her with amusement.
“But I see… you’ll keep him on a leash.
Qué lista. He’ll live longer that way.”
She winked and added:
“You—I’ll treat you, nuestra.
How about something sweet?”
Jackie’s eyes lit up with pure joy.
“Yes, please.”
Tresbola shifted her gaze to Dick, who had already lowered his eyes, trying to preserve at least a shred of dignity.
“And you, señor… I suppose—something strong?”
Dick nodded.
“Yeah, please. Company’s paying, so make it the most expensive and strongest you’ve got.”
Tresbola beamed at them.
“¡Qué maravilla! Me encantan los clientes así.”
She turned and walked away.
Jackie’s eyes started searching for Blindy, Zeros, Airi, and Shiori. But the bar was packed—people couldn’t even find seats, standing around tables, shouting over each other, waving their hands, completely blocking the view.
A couple of minutes later, Tresbola returned and set several plates of sweets in front of Jackie.
“Chocotorta for you, nuestra. But try the Canjica de Milho first.
I made all of this myself…”
She gestured lightly.
“And drink some cajuína—apples from Terra, your human home world. I’m sure you’ll like it.”
Behind them, T.8.0.0 quietly appeared
and placed a heavy glass in front of Dick.
The label read:
“Warm Touch of the Third.”
Dick looked at it, let out a dry huff, and thought with bitter irony:
Shit… no one’s ever humiliated me like this—
got played like a kid. Serves you right, Dick.
Your own damn fault.
Tresbola was about to leave when Jackie stopped her.
“Um… Madame Tresbola…
Have you seen our friends? Shiori and Airi? Or at least… Blindy?”
Tresbola leaned closer and whispered:
“They’re at the bar counter.
But you should enjoy the sweets while you can.”
She smiled.
“I’ll let them know you’re here.”
Jackie first took a few photos for Instagram.
Then she dove into the sweets, eating big bites, humming happily with every bite. The drone lay on the table, still streaming everything happening inside the bar.
Dick took a sip of his drink. His jaw clenched. His eyes turned red, and tears streamed down his face like he’d just watched another episode of Six Feet Under.
His breath disappeared… and didn’t seem too eager to come back. The crowd roared—arguing, shouting, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.