	Thursday and Sunday nights at Sassafras McSapphire's nightclub always ushered in an exquisite variety of southern Oregon's finest karaoke singers.

	From dilapidated anthro stallion cowboys belting out country tunes, lilting ranges with southern drawls to enunciate any righteous man's struggles with breaking up from his woman in favor of his guitar or truck, to a pair of metal-headed otters who never missed a single night without bellowing at least one Pantera jam or Faith No More crowd-pleaser, head-banging with long sweaty hair swaying in circular pendulum arches. Out at Sassy McSapph's, there's always been a large outspoken variety of music to hear and sing along to for those who kept a firm solid attendance record in check. 

	Other karaoke bars in inner-city areas displayed aggressive clichéd bigotry towards those who weren't in the KNOW-crowd, an awfully rude disposition shown against those lucky and talented drifters who'd simply stumble in from out of nowhere and belt out an early Soundgarden or Guns N'Roses hit for good measure, handling Chris Cornell's incredibly high range and wicked difficult pitch to land correctly or Axl Rose's insane grungy dissonance, nearly shredding mic cords from the aggressive feedback. Some places featured scores of envy and catty jealousy amidst their most favored singers, often-times slipping rufelin tablets into their whiskey sours in-between song transitions just to gain an upper-hand advantage over self-appointed karaoke gods, to send a formidable message to those who thought it was a cute idea to show off or apprehend the night with stride. 

	Luckily, Sassafras McSapphire's nightclub always operated against such disastrous practices.

	For many in the greater southern Oregon state area, karaoke night served as a royal engagement for local vocalists, singers, songwriters, musicians and typical barfly fans and admirers to congregate and enjoy the pleasure of each other's company and profound talents, those individuals with golden pairs of lungs who had to be protected and cherished at all costs. Anthros who attended Sassy McSapph's every Thursday and Sunday night were the luckiest ones, knowing just how engaged they could be, to experience a mini-music festival in the midst of their own private drinking and dancing establishment. To relish in the extraordinary vocal ranges of their very own. Or perhaps just to score a lid or two of fresh home-grown ganja or magic fungi.

	~

	On a muggy overcast Thursday evening in winter, Maxwell Horacio Blackburnadeaux of Enim-Noinu fame decided to check a little karaoke fun out by recommendation of a fellow crew member and his personal bass tuner. Rory, a scruffy stout bulldog with a heart of gold and very limited tolerance for drunken buffoons bumping into his shepcoon boss's bass amp rig with handfuls of cold bubbly lager, had suggested to Max during one rigorous evening of rehearsals for an upcoming tour that he ought to give karaoke night a go. Max originally brushed the idea off, claiming it as a stupid venture, until he gained further insight from Gus.
	
	"Believe it or not, lots of great vocalists got an early start by attending karaoke. I think you'd enjoy yourself, Max! Give it a chance."

	"Would you tag along, at least? That way I won't be alone in a weird new unfamiliar environment." Max asked Gus.

	"Sorry shepcoon, I'm driving a few hours up north to retrieve a guitar amp. Remember what Bradley did to his other one?"

	"Heat of the moment. I remember. So I guess I'll ask around, then." Max said with a shrug.

	"Sure thing, Max. Enjoy yourself! You only turn thirty once. Live it up while you still can."

	~

	He originally decided to go alone, offering both Brad and Maile an invite which got turned down politely twice in a row. Bradley was preoccupied with Calli and Maile simply despised Sassafras McSapphire's nightclub. Karaoke fun was one thing, but karaoke fun in the Sassafrass McSapphire was another thing altogether, according to the red panda demoness. Gus and Maile were equally in agreement with their affectionate disdain towards the place, so no go there. Max eventually got in touch with his asshole cousin Darrel, who wasn't only interested but beyond flattered that his kid-cuz Maxwell would think of him enough to ask. 

	~

	The cousins rolled up to the building, parking beneath a bright, buzzing sodium-arc lamp with moths and flies hovering around its illuminated bulbs. A light damp mist settled into the enclosed valley, casting a hazy dew that blurred their surroundings. Darrel reached into his driver door's storage compartment to fish out a small ganja pipe packed to the brim with fresh sativa strain. Max snickered and rolled his one good eye with his hand-paw wrapped around his muzzle as Darrel pressed a round cylindrical-shaped cigarette burner into the dashboard and rolled his driver door window down by rotating a crankshaft counter-clockwise. Max shook his head, rolling down his window as well.

	"You couldn't afford power-windows?" Max asked Darrel, hearing disdain in his voice. 

	"The model I asked for didn't even feature 'em, but that's okay. This'll be nice to give that ol' arm of yours an exercise, right? B'sides, it ain't as if anyone's gonna come rob us at gunpoint, cuz. We're in the middle of fuckin' nowhere here. Look around!" Darrel said, waving his hand-paw towards the barren parking lot. Indeed, the night's turnout was subtle and restrained at best. Max snorted and shook his head, casting a fat goofy grin with bitter sarcasm. 

	Darrel pressed the green substance into the pipe, packing it tight. "Must've caught us a dead-ass night. But at least we can sing more songs, ain't gonna have to wait so long for everyone else, since there clearly ain't very many others to sing t'night. Free queue, baby." 

	"I guess you got a point, cuz. Thanks for bringing me here tonight, in any case. I wasn't about to walk to get here, not this late and in this weather, plus everyone else had priorities to attend to. Gus is replacing Brad's guitar amp and Maile could care less..." Max cleared his throat and rubbed at Darrel's shoulder softly, hating himself privately for doing so but placing his envy aside for a moment. "Thank you. This means a lot, especially on my birthday. I think the others may have forgotten about it, fuckers."

	"Pfffft, I doubt it. They might have a surprise for you still, who knows?" Darrel said. Max pondered at such a suggestion. For all he knew, perhaps they did? He shrugged the idea off and squinted, exhaling a sigh.

	"It had better be a big-ass surprise, if that's the case."

	The dashboard cigarette lighter popped out with a clink and Darrel grabbed it carefully. Max watched a glowing orange spiral appear from the darkness as Darrel pressed the orange-red super-heated coil against a stick of kindling-wood, setting it aflame. He held the flaming wooden torch over the surface of flowering buds, illuminating the ganja as he pressed his thumb-paw onto the glass pipe's ventilation hole. 

	"Your toke, or mine?"

	"You kick it off, cousin." Max said.

	Darrel nodded and leaned down, holding the pipe up to his puckered foxcoon lips. He inhaled from the curved end of the small pipe and toked a nice hefty hit, watching the substance in his pipe burn slowly as embers sizzled aglow in the dark haziness of the sodium arc-lamp's glare. The kindling twig's flame flickered, casting a small glow over Darrel's vehicle dashboard while Maxwell stared at the building's rooftops, boasting a weird triangular-shaped style with corrugated rusty iron sheets that covered large turquoise-painted cinder-block walls. A single smokestack jutted from one corner of the rooftop, emanating a black cloud of acrid billowing smoke. The flue of a woodstove, perhaps. The building itself was long and rectangular in shape, despite its strange roof design. He wondered how long it took construction crews to build the foundation, how long ago they laid the plans down before establishing the building he now stared at. Inside that decrepit pit was a fun and lively environment, according to Rory, though Max hardly believed it himself. He thought it looked like a psychotic cathedral from surburban hell.

	Darrel nudged Max's shoulder and passed the pipe to him, exhaling smoke through his foxcoon nostrils, drifting out from his open driver-side window. Darrel coughed and Max repeated his cousin's process, also wallowing in a fit of coughing spasms, carrying over the burning glass torch nestled snug between his finger-paws. The two cousins put their indifferences down briefly and learned to enjoy life, high as fuck and twice as giddy with excitement. By then the pipe had been burned through completely and they felt no pain. Darrel wondered if any sexy curvaceous single cuties would sing Love Shack, to whom he'd gladly duet alongside with. Maxwell was just curious to see what Sassafras McSapphire's nightclub looked like when in full-blown karaoke mode. For all he knew, perhaps the night would belong to a couple hybrid raccoon-dog rejects. He would embrace only the fondest of pleasures. 

	~

	The action was quite sparse, indeed. Only a handful of bar patrons in attendance. Max and Darrel walked in stinking to high holy heaven, reeking of fresh ganja, though they hardly even noticed. Darrel cared not about the potent aroma but Max became paranoid at once of his surroundings, fidgety and anxious. He thought everyone would take one good look at his incredibly reddened un-patched stoner's eyeball and flinch back in revulsion, to maintain a wide berth from the leper drug-user and his pseudo-celebrity foxcoon cousin. Darrel just laughed like a drunken buffoon, pointing and cackling at anything he deemed even remotely funny.

	Maxwell took it in all at once. Upon further inspection, he saw an electronic jukebox installed into the right-side corner of the building, nestled between two artificial palm tree plants in large clay pots. To the left of the jukebox was a long rectangular bar, lined with wooden saloon barstools. On the bar counter surface, a marbled stone finish held drink coasters and various fruity garnishes like cherries and celery stalks for the bloody mary enthusiast. The ceilings within Sassafras McSapphire's nightclub had been adorned with tall mirrors that presented reflections of the floor and the few individuals in attendance, also creating a weird inadvertent sense of vertigo. Meticulously stocked shelves behind the large hefty bar counter boasted a wide variety of different spirits, flavored liqueurs and local wines, along with half-a-dozen in-house kegs on tap, spout handles decorated with fancy wood-carved logos. A small doorway set to the immediate left of the bar counter led into a portable kitchen out back behind the building itself, where a single cook and dishwasher operated until closing time, which meant anyone with late-night munchies wouldn't be denied beer-battered onion rings or Tachos (tater-tot nachos, a crafty specialty) if in a fix, as long as they showed up by Eleven 'o'clock with a healthy appetite. The bar itself closed at two and karaoke wrapped up at one-thirty. 

	At the far end of the building opposite of the main entrance, an LCD projector was set upon a milk crate draped with a small flowery cloth, its glass bulb illuminating a screen of lyrics adjusted with care and precision upon a white-painted cinder-block wall, the only bare-walled space in sight. Large candelabras and disco balls hung beside each other from a single huge supporting oak wood beam that cut a path straight through the center of the building, the highest point inside the nightclub. To the left, Max saw a square-shaped DJ's booth built into the building's general infrastructure with a raised stage floor beneath the bare cinder-block wall.

	Perched high above the DJ's booth, Max saw a VIP lounge with velvet curtains, goldenrod tassels and hemp-rope. The only way to gain access to this area was by way of a rickety old iron-lattice spiral staircase that spun up and up to a small veranda platform located just above the DJ booth's doorway. Max thought of it as a crow's nest for security personnel.

	An old abandoned payphone booth still sat in place on the left-side corner of the building, adjacent to the digital jukebox. Rock band touring posters adorned the building's interior walls, giving Sassy McSapph's a superior punky underground CBGB's stylistic approach. Max identified a couple of his own grunge band's posters and smiled wide at the sight. He adhered nostalgia from each poster. The air from within Sassy McSapph's was hazy and humid with cigarette smoke and a savory aroma of fried foods from the kitchen... and of course, Darrel's weed.
	
	Darrel Mendoza, foxcoon celebrity at large, flashed his ID upon being asked to present it by a white-furred tigress bartender. He yanked a titanium money-clip free from his chinos pants and fished out a plastic card while settling down in a wooden barstool, showing it to the tigress while grinning with suave flirtation. The tigress paid the foxcoon no mind, pouring him a glass of dirty IPA and a red plastic cup of water in a flash of an instant. He'd sat himself down beside a young pretty calico-cat hybrid with bristling blue avian feathers, very attractive yet so petite. She almost looked to be too young for admittance in Max's eyes, though the shepcoon paid no immediate attention. He was too busy trying to maintain his paranoia. He coughed deep and cracked his knuckles, glancing at this brand new establishment he'd never set foot in before. He thought that maybe Rory's suggestion wasn't so lame-brained after all.

	~
	
	"I'm gonna try to go put in for a song or two. Care to come along?" Max asked his cousin. Darrel nodded his head, not breaking sight from the exotic creature sat down beside him. Max scoffed at Darrel's determination to woo every cutie possible. 
	
	"Go on ahead, duder, I'll catch up with ya'll in a red-hot minute." Darrel said. Max shrugged as he rubbed Darrel's shoulder. 

	"I'm sure you will. Get me a glass of pineapple juice, would you kindly please?" Max asked Darrel as he sprang a bee-line towards the DJ's booth, illuminated from within by a pair of large bright fluorescent tube lamps, reminding him of an interrogation room... or a classroom, perhaps. The calico-bird hybrid anthro girl offered Max a curious glance as he passed by her. Max dodged and weaved through a small group of mid-aged feline bar patrons gathered and socializing over drinks in hand on his way to the DJ booth. Upon arrival, he knocked on a large sliding-glass window. He saw an anthro parakeet couple throwing darts at a dart-board hung upon the right side of the projector screen, bullseye target plastered with former President Trump's face, peppered with puncture holes around his wide-open mouth and nostrils. Max giggled with delight at such an obnoxiously rebellious sight. He knew right away that this was his kind of bar, by golly.
 
	The DJ booth's glass door slid open, revealing an exquisite arrangement of audio hardware that Max had only ever dreamed of in his deepest musician's desires. This place, even if it stood as a glorified dive-slum, boasted a mean sound system. He could tell already. His heart skipped a beat when he also saw a sensationally attractive Samoyed-husky anthro-girl wearing a fat pair of headphones around her neck, heeding to his knocking call. This had to be the karaoke deejay for the evening, though he could hardly believe his eyes. Max saw she'd also been wearing a slim black blouse top and a rainbow-sparkly bandanna upon her head. A perverted part of his mind questioned what she could be wearing or not wearing beneath. Her blue eyes scorched Maxwell's hopeless lovesick romantic soul, rendering him temporarily speechless. The husky-samoyed girl giggled and cocked her shoulders at a flexed angle, offering him a view of her supple cleavage. He didn't know what looked sexier, the audiophile's system presented before him or the sexy Samoyed-husky girl in charge of running said hardware for a few prolonged hours.

	"Howdy, chief! What can I do you for?"

	Max was rendered speechless, frozen in a subtle weed-daze, staring at her without any words to comprehend. She giggled and flicked one of his dreadlocks off his muzzle.

	"Cat got your tongue? Don't worry, that happens a lot. People expect to see Kris and they get me, it figures. So are you gonna sing tonight, or did you have another question for me?"

	Snapping out of his sudden trance, Max smiled wide, silver snaggletooth glinting in the cast bright fluorescent glow of the DJ's booth.

	"Um, my bad. I love your sound system, that's all! God damn, I've never seen a prettier, uh.." Max ogled down at the anthro-girl's revealing top, imagining what she'd look like topless, then snapped himself back from the attracted staring fit. "-audio setup! You guys have serious equipment in this place!"

	The Samoyed-husky girl nodded and admired the shepcoon's passion. 

	"Yes sir, we've definitely got the goods to pack quite a punch into many unsuspecting ear drums within about a two-mile radius." She smiled and reached down to plug in a cord. "So you gonna sing for me tonight, or were you planning on spectating? Or perhaps you'd be willing to bring a lady a drink for kicks?"

	"What's your poison of choice?"

	She giggled, brushing her finger-paws through her black-streaked long snow-powdered white hair. "No alcohol for me, I'd be fine with an ice-cool Coke. Could you possibly bring me a pitcher of water as well? Something to help stay hydrated while I'm working in this little cubicle."

	"Done and done! Oh, and put me down for When Doves Cry, by Prince."

	"Ooh, starting the night off with a purple bang, I see? You got it. What's your name, chief? Or shall I continue calling you chief?"

	Maxwell blushed a bit, regarding the beautiful DJ with an attentive gaze that seemed to cry out true romance unto her sheer grace. 

	"Nah, its Maxwell. Or Max, for short. Hell, I'd even settle for shepcoon."

	She laughed, deep and healthy, holding her hand-paw out for Max to grab and shake. "That's a plan, my man! I'm Sable and I'm glad to have you here tonight to share the wealth. I'm going to kick us off with a song and you'll be first on the queue, so you'll sing after me. That'll leave you with plenty of time to gather drinks and get loosened up for your upcoming ditty. Sound good to you?"

	Max nodded and smiled wide, totally infatuated with Sable. She grinned in return and swung her head back, tying her long hair into a ponytail and securing it in place with her rainbow bandanna. Max departed from the DJ's booth and trotted back over to the bar like a master player with a true game-plan. 

	~

	When he returned to Darrel, Max noticed that his cousin was attempting to flirt with the petite calico-blue jay hybrid. Attempting a bit too hard, for she had conveyed a scrunched face of mild annoyance and disgust. Darrel was just too damn dumb to notice that his advances weren't working well in his favor. Max made brief eye contact with the calico-hybrid girl and curled his brow at her which made her flutter her eyelashes at him in return. A brief yet sweet little gesture, nothing more. Max leaned into the counter and got the attention of the tigress barkeep, asking her for two Cokes on ice and a pitcher of cool water. 

	"The pitcher's for Sable, right?" She asked Max, who nodded in the affirmative. She smiled and filled two plastic cups full of icy-cool Coca-Cola and handed them to him, reaching down to grab at a plastic pitcher. As she filled the jug with fresh water, Max saw the projector screen illuminate the rear wall with an esoteric glow. Sable held a microphone in hand and addressed the small turnout crowd.

	"Okay, Rae, you can mute the jukebox tunes now, I think we're about to begin." Sable said to Rae, the ivory tigress barkeep.

	"Got it!" Rae said as she filled the pitcher jug and handed it to Maxwell. "Okay, mister, that'll be five-fifty for the two Cokes."

	Max slapped down a ten-dollar bill and insisted that she keep the change, which Rae did with a very attractive and grateful smile plastered upon her fuzzy feline cheeks. She grabbed a nearby remote control and pushed a single button, powering off the jukebox nestled away in the corner of the building, basking the bar in a wave of silence. Only clinking glasses and murmuring from the bar patrons. The acoustics were intimidating at best.

	"Okay, a big round of thanks to everyone who came out tonight!" Scattered applause and a few whoops echoed through the building before dying down again. "I know this is a modest turnout but that's okay, we'll enjoy this time we have with ourselves. I'm Sable and I'll be hosting tonight's karaoke engagement so if you have questions, requests or just wish to sing a duet, I'm the go-to girl. If you feel hungry or thirsty, you've got Rae to help satisfy your needs over there, manning the bar like the true bad-ass she is! Menus are available upon request."

	The patrons clapped and Darrel smacked his hand-paws against the bar-counter, hollering aloud. Rae blushed and waved at them, blowing a kiss towards Sable. The Samoyed-husky snickered and winked back at her before continuing her opening pre-karaoke introduction.

	"I've also been told that we have a birthday tonight. So let's give it up for Maxwell the shepcoon on his big bad thirtieth!" Sable said, pointing admirably at Max. He felt a lead weight of embarrassment form in his belly. He wondered if Darrel hadn't somehow managed to pass the word onto Sable ahead of time without him even realizing. Crafty bastard cousin, always a step ahead of the curve. The patrons clapped for him, including the calico-bluejay hybrid cat girl. She gave Max solid genuine bedroom eyes while maintaining a resting bitch face. 

	"BUT before we let the birthday boy give it his all, I'll warm us up and make sure the levels are all adjusted accordingly. Until then, please feel free to come give me your song requests and don't forget to tip your bartender. Thank you and let's have some fun tonight!" Sable exclaimed, reaching into the DJ's booth to press a play button on the karaoke laptop and kick things into gear.

	"WHOOOOO SABLE!! YOU GOT THIS, DARLIN'!!" Darrel hollered aloud. He began to grow more belligerent with each new drink, as if he were in attendance at a heavy metal concert. Max wanted to rip his dreadlocks out and beat his cousin to death with them for embarrassing him so heavily on his birthday but reminded himself that Darrel's abrasive behavior was simply part of the foxcoon's nature, nothing he could do or say would change the way Darrel acted. The best bet for Max would be to simply move on and enjoy himself prominently.

	~

	Max grabbed Sable's Coke and pitcher of water to bring it back over to the DJ's booth, placing both items carefully down upon the interior counter-space, next to a laid-out USB keyboard. Max slowly convinced himself to settle and enjoy the night for what it was worth as he returned back to the bar to drink from his own cup of Coke. He wasn't all that high, after all, just a little. A little weed goes a long way- 

	"Hey, birthday boy. Happy thirtieth to you. You practically look like you're in your early twenties!"

	Max flinched and twirled around at the sudden voice behind him. He was face-to-face with the calico-blue jay hybrid girl, who had left her seat at the bar and walked up to Max to talk to him directly. 

	"Oh, gosh. I get that a lot. Thank you, missy!"

	"Kat. Call me Kat. Or if you want to get fancy, Katherina."

	"Kat, huh? Like a kitty-kat. That's righteous."

	She giggled into her hand-paw and gave Max a crooked smile, blushing timidly as she gazed deep into his face, regarding his chiseled features. Max sat down on his designated end-stool and refrained from twirling in circles. 
	
	"Are you singing tonight, mister-thirty-something?"

	"Sure am. Right after Sable." Max said. He sniffed deep and caught a whiff of her perfume, carving through his marijuana stench. A fruity, zesty scent, something to woo grown men into love-struck shambles. 

	"Oooh, nice. Um... wanna share a duet with me?"

	"What'd you have in mind?" Max asked the cat-hybrid.

	"Gold Dust Woman, by Fleetwood Mac. You game?" Kat said.

	"Why not the Hole version?"

	"Huh?" Kat gave Max a confused glimpse, cocking her head.

	"Courtney Love rocks that song pretty fierce as well, unless you prefer the original version?"

	"Um, I'm not familiar with the 'Hole' version of that song." Kat said in a very subtle condescending fashion. "But how about it? Wanna sing that with me tonight? I'll be Stevie Nicks and you can be my back-up. I think we could probably nail it if we tried."

	Max thought of many things he might want to do with her right then and there, well into the night, how he'd like to nail into her with limited effort, then caved in and grabbed his Coke to take a quick sip.

	"It's a done deal, Kat."

	"Great. I'll go let Sable know, but after she's done singing."

	"Righteous." Max said. He took another sip of his Coke and Kat hopped up into a neighboring barstool, taking a quick seat next to Max.

	"Your cousin is a bit of a womanizer, isn't he?"

	"He tries to be with all his might."

	Kat chuckled, laughing soft and sweet, a kind and considerate sound. Max smiled and blew air through his lips, emanating a whistle. 

	"He tries too hard, I think." Kat said. She rubbed Max's shoulder. "Besides, I kinda think you're a little better-looking than him. No offense, but I like the rugged scrappy kind of guys. Are you in a band?"

	Max nodded and pointed towards one of his band posters. Kat looked up at the Enim-Noinu announcements and shrieked with excitement. She smiled and looked back at Maxwell, visibly star-struck.

	"I thought you looked familiar! Well, then. My goodness. It'll be a real pleasure to sing with you tonight. Is it Max or Maxwell?"

	"Either one is fine with me."

	"Duly noted. Good luck, shepcoon. And happy birthday to you, for real!"

	"Thank you kindly."

	Kat walked past Max, brushing her tail against his chest while giving him a solid gaze of affection. She strutted in a lively enticing gait as she trotted towards the bathroom. Max readjusted his boxer-briefs to shield his protruding bulge from wandering eyes.

	~

	Sable kicked the night off with a stellar rendition of Alanis Morissette's You Oughta Know, carrying her vowels like a girl with no holds barred and reaching the elusive high note registers with limited effort. As she sung through her choice-opener, she adjusted knobs on a motherboard inside the DJ booth, achieving the proper settings to properly equalize the sound levels from within, glancing from speaker to speaker. When she'd wrapped up and the few intact patrons cheered and clapped for her, Sable bowed in a makeshift curtsey and stepped towards Max, handing him her cordless microphone. Max grabbed it and nodded, stepping up to perform his choice-song. Darrel whooped and hollered aloud. 

	"YEEEEAH MAXWEEELLL!! GO GET 'EM, TIGER!! WHOOOOO! FUCK IT UP, CUZ!!!"

	"Your cousin is kinda funny, isn't he?" Sable said to Max in the very short momentary lapse of silence between songs. Max nodded and smirked, thinking of a few more slightly derogatory adjectives which he could describe Darrel with. A title-card flashed on the projector's presentation wall, showing Prince's When Doves Cry, along with the song's length, year of release, tempo, beat count and starting note. The length of the song itself surprised Max, for he figured it to be shorter than it really was. As the opening guitar riff swung into motion and the drums kicked into gear, laying the foundation for what would prove to be Max's debut karaoke induction, lyrics flashed up on the projector screen and Max took off with a mid-level range, voice as smooth as butter and honey and the sweetest cream imaginable.

	[i]Dig if you will, a picture.
	Of you and I engaged in a kiss.[/i]

	Max blew a kiss towards Kat, who now strolled from the bathroom's hallway and re-entered the main concourse. She winked and offered him a lovely pose, returning the favor by blowing a kiss of her own his way. 

	[i]The sweat of your body covers me.
	Can you, my darling, can you picture this?[/i]

	Katherina rubbed her cat's nose with a bent finger-paw and curled her scrawny petite bird-like knees down to shimmy a little for the shepcoon, which got Darrel cheering and pointing at Max, encouraging him to keep it up.

	"Don't stop fer the love of all things holy, shepcoon, DON'T FUCKIN' STOP, CUZ!!" Darrel nearly screamed at the top of his lungs, making Rae crack up laughing out loud.

	"Oh hell yes, I love this song!" Max heard Sable call out from behind him somewhere within earshot range, talking to nobody in particular. Sable laughed at Darrel's outlandish support and Katherina danced in a provocative fashion, twirling and swaying around Max as he stood in place and belted out a delicious classic Prince hit, throwing in a little jive-action of his own to seal the deal.

	[i]So do I, Sable, I also love this song![/i] Max thought in the midst of singing through the main chorus a second time. Max watched Sable from the corner of his eye grab a nearby tambourine from a hook located inside the DJ's booth and play it along with the beat, providing backing vocals with a second mic as Max channeled his inner Royal Badness and rocked the Sassy McSapph's in style. Rae served beverages at break-neck speed and Darrel ran out to a wide-open dance floor space near the now-vacated dartboard area to strut his stuff. Kat joined in with Darrel and soon the floor surrounding Max was a scene straight out of Purple Rain. 

	During the entirety of his first song, Max held his composure and sang like his life depended on it, taking in the sights, the sounds and smells all around him. Sable's smile was vast as she smacked the rounded wooden tiny-cymbal-embedded instrument against her palm, covering high falsetto notes from a mic perched on a stand. The entire bar had practically burst into a massive harmony, singing like a subdued choir, all pitching in and covering various parts of Max's song of choice. It was like magic emanating from the hearts, minds and throats of everyone in attendance. Max could even imagine the kitchen crew humming along in the back. The sight was beyond belief.

	~

	When Prince wrapped up, Darrel downed his gin & tonic and placed his highball glass on the bar's counter top, walking up to Max after he'd finished singing. Darrel the drunken stoned foxcoon cousin of Max gave the shepcoon a brotherly hug. The other patrons clapped for him and Sable apprehended the mic from his grip, twirling the tambourine on her arm like a circus performer conducting a death-defying act before re-hanging it back on its hook for safe-keeping.

	"Give it up for our birthday boy Maxwell! Great job, dude. Up next, we've got Corey and Dylan, bringing the heat with metal you can just sink your teeth into. Prepare to headbang hard, kids! These brothers-from-other-mothers are gonna let loose with some Metallica, right here and now under the roof of Sassafras McSapphire's bar and grill! Remember, always leave room for onion rings, since these guys deep-fry some of the best in Oregon! Kat, you're up next after the otters." Katherina gave Sable a thumbs-up as she returned back to her barstool, out of breath from dancing so much.

	Max patted Darrel's back and smelled the strong alcohol emanate from his breath as Darrel bear-hugged his adrenaline-fueled cousin. 

	"DUDE!!! You fuckin' rocked that shit!"

	"I guess? Kinda biffed a couple of those high notes. Prince was a strong falsetto kind of singer, y'know?"

	"Dude, if I were a lady, I'd be on my damn hands and knees just BEGGING for a night with you! Fuckin' hell, you did a great job, duderino!"

	"Thanks, Darrel." Max said, smiling and feeling oddly under-the-gun. Max glanced around the bar and noticed a few more additions to the group, probably tourists passing through in hopes of engaging in a bit of fun. He smiled and saw a second bartender alongside Rae, an equally gorgeous young tigress with orange fur to contrast with Rae's ivory-white tigress fur coat. 

	"Hey, they've got two bartenders working now!" Darrel said, practically reading Max's mind, seeing what he saw. The raccoon-dog hybrids exchanged quick glances and smiled frantically, knowing what was in store - plenty of drinks and festive shenanigans. Darrel wanted to mingle and flirt with them both. 

	Maxwell wanted to sing a duet with Kat, much sooner than later.

	~

	"Rock on, boys! Holy cow, super bad-ass! You almost started a mosh pit out here, I'm impressed!" The otter friends, Corey and Dylan, bopped heads against each other and laughed it off, plopping down against the edge of the bar and downing two bottled lagers, clinking glasses together in a toast. The new bartender tigress gave them high-fives and replaced their nearly-empty drinks with fresh filled bottles.

	"Okay, up next we've got Kat, bringing Gold Dust Woman to you all! We're lucky to have this lovely young feline in attendance with us tonight. Give it up for our very own!"

	The guys whooped and cheered. Darrel blew a wolf-whistle and Kat tittered nervously as she approached Sable, arm held out and palm turned upward. Sable placed the microphone gently in the young feline-hybrid's grip and she nodded a gesture of thanks to Sable, walking towards Max. 

	"Thanks, guys. I think I'd like a little company for tonight's song, though, if you don't mind, birthday boy?"

	Max swallowed a load of nervous saliva and nodded, smiling with timid bashfulness. Sable whipped out a second cordless mic from the DJ booth and ran to Max, handing it to him. She winked and grinned at the shepcoon as Max took Mic number two, checking to see if the switch was turned on and green to go. Kat grinned at Max, then focused all her attention on the lyrics screen, determined to nail her parts accordingly. Max recognized her professionalism and respected her approach. Anyone else would've just slandered their way through such a song but he could tell immediately that he was about to duet with real talent. Max rolled his shoulders and got himself into the groove with the song's opening bass riff, feeling like a Wiccan demon ready to conduct an exorcism on an innocent young victimized fallen angel, one with blue-hued wings adorning her arms and nape and a long swaying spotted calico-cat's tail jerking to and fro behind her back.

	"Ready to rock this crowd for real?" Kat asked Max. Max nodded and winked at her, making the calico-hybrid blush furiously. The first string of lyrics popped up and Katherina sized everyone else up with her tremendous lilting vocal abilities.

	[i]Rock on, gold dust woman, take your silver spoon, dig your grave.
	Heartless challenge, pick your path and I'll pray.[/i]
	
	Max practically missed his cue, staring with wanton intent and furious desire at Katherina as she belted out a beautiful string of hot, heavy vocal lust. Her cadence and tone made Max feel slightly erect as he dove head-first into the next verse, which she acted out naturally, giving him gestures of dismissal and swinging her finger-paw at him, setting the tone for the song, absolute perfection. 

	[i]Wake up in the morning, see your sunrise loves to go down.
	Lousy lovers, pick their prey but they never cry out loud. Cry out![/i]

	Katherina strolled up to Max and wrapped her leg around him, hugging him close in a fond embrace. She whispered private illicit desire into his ear before they hit the chorus and Max knew that he couldn't possibly leave Sassafrass McSapphire's tonight without her. They both broke out in a harmonic duet, singing right at each other, never breaking sight of their frozen stares, practically making love right in front of the attending bar patrons. 

	Well did she make you cry, make you break down, shatter your illusions of love?
	And is it over now, do you know how, to pick up the pieces and go home?

	Without a doubt, Maxwell knew right then and there that Darrel would end up hailing a cab home, incapable of driving anywhere on his own, leaving Max to drive his cousin's car back to her place. Whether he would drop her off and return home to rest before bringing Darrel's car back to him the next morning after or stay over with her for the night was something he had no idea about. Deep down, a gut intuition developed in the finest and most intimate ways imaginable, suggesting that he might get better-acquainted with Katherina before the break of dawn, but he would take his chances until then and see what she had in store for him. For all Max knew, Kat was just as drunk as Darrel and may have simply been trying to size him up for the occasion, knowing that he was having the time of his life on his very special day of conceived creation.

	More anthros and humans alike flooded into the building now, some catching a ride from a local taxi service, others carpooling in with friends and co-workers. The bar was filling up fast, perhaps by word of mouth. Perhaps one of the two bartenders called upon their cook to reach out and invite friends and colleagues alike to come on down and check out the bad-ass singers who had decided to attend their modest little hole-in-the-wall bar & grill, located in the middle of a vast sprawling dense forest-surrounded coastal valley range, a wildflower-smothered plot of land seeped in misty dew and stark pale glowing moonlit phosphoresce. A slice of evening beauty, tranquil and captivating to behold.

	~

	As the night weaved through many more singers, Max and Kat enjoyed a second duet in the form of Ain't No Mountain High Enough, feeling an incorrigible urge to dance like they would die if they didn't. Max and Katherina formed an immediate bond, settling a pact over the power of music and harmonious singing. He was the Marvin Gaye to her Tammi Terrell. Kat wondered why Max hadn't performed with her professionally yet. Max, however, wondered what color Kat's panties were. 

	Darrel made new friends through the otter metal-heads, wrapping his long gangly foxcoon arms around Corey and Dylan's meaty thick necks and swaying to the groove, singing along with Max and Kat like a rambunctious backing choir. Ani and Rae danced together in a very brief tango in-between placing drink orders, causing an uproar of clinking glasses and counter-slaps at the bar to break out.

	A tall alligator anthro stepped out from the kitchen hallway to check in on all the action, wearing a black apron and a paisley bandanna wrapped around his scaly head. He grinned with a mouthful of sharp, jagged teeth and admired the heavy turnout, catching a quick smoke break before going back to the grind. He was bound to help the new dishwasher clean up the kitchen, for their time to serve had long-since passed. He glanced up at a wall-clock suspended above the bar and saw it was a few minutes past twelve before extinguishing his cigarette into an empty beer can and returning back into the kitchen to wrap up any remaining closing-time chores.

	Sable sat in the DJ's booth, working diligently through the queue and accepting new requests from a lengthy line of interested singers that had built up just an hour prior to the end of karaoke. She was kept quite busy but paid no mind to it, for she knew that she was giving Sassafrass McSapphire's plenty of business and she was quite aware of the chance opportunity to earn plenty of tips, which she had a separate jar set aside for, adorned with tiny LED lights wrapped around the jar's outer rim. There was a nice hefty collection of billfolds already shoved into the jar and the tips just kept coming. 

	~

	"Okay, gang! We're about to close the night out with our very own bartender team, Ani and Rae! They're gonna give us a very sweet melody to finish our drinks with. Take it away, ladies!" Sable said, even as she hugged up against Darrel, nudging his chest with her snout. At some point in the night, Darrel had decided to try flirting it up with the DJ, which worked quite effectively to his advantage, for Sable found him to be charming as fuck, even with his drunken goofiness and his wacky ol' dog demeanor. Sable could certainly identify the relation between him and Maxwell, though she picked up on Darrel's approach as being a much more outspoken one. Sable had a feeling that she'd wind up dragging Darrel into a nearby corner for a little privacy soon enough. She wondered if he'd remember anything upon the next upcoming morning and decided against worrying about it. He'd be fine, no doubt! She knew broken disadvantaged frail anthro guys and how they operated. Darrel, however, simply didn't rank among their category. Sable even felt a compelling urge to give him a lift back home if push came to shove. Until then, she slow-danced with him, even as he sniffed at her hair and poked his nose against her cheek. Her heart raced and her fur felt softer and fluffier than usual, perhaps due to nerves coursing through her body. 

	As Rae and Ani finished the night off in style with a Radiohead classic, Max and Kat lingered beside the shut-down jukebox, holding each other in their arms and slowly spinning on their feet, ensuring not to tangle each other's ankles upon their tails. Max could feel Kat's rushing heartbeat against his chest, as well as her small budding A-cup breasts. Max rubbed a certain growth in his pants against her thigh, wondering if his advances weren't too sudden or fast for her liking. He was mesmerized and relieved by her response as Kat reached down to grab his bulge and give it a healthy squeeze. 

	"Is that a microphone in your pocket, or are you just thrilled as can be to see me tonight?"

	"I think there may have been a third mic that went missing."

	Kat giggled and pulled Max closer to her, nearly bopping their noses together. 

	"What's your plans after this place closes down?"

	"I was considering driving my cousin's car back home, catching some shut-eye then waking up to bring his car back to his place, maybe along with some Gatorade and Advil to soothe his hangover. I'm sure he'll be suffering tomorrow... I mean, later today."

	Kat smiled and gave Max the eye-fluttering romantic gaze once more, placing her arms behind his back and rubbing at his shoulders. If she was attempting to seduce him, she was winning with fierce persistence.

	"I was wondering if you'd be willing to take me back to my place. Cab fare is so costly and I don't think I'd be able to just walk back home. Too many weirdos out in the woods after-hours."

	"I understand what you mean. He's got a cab coming for him momentarily, so he'll be set and ready to return home safe and sound. If you're willing to let me drive, I'll give you a lift home. No worries."

	Kat stood upon her tip-toes and gave Max a lengthy kiss upon his lips, sliding her tongue across his lower lip passionately. Max responded by poking at her tongue with his and they exchanged a fond lip-smacking bit of making out, embraced in each other's arms. Max thought his dick would simply explode from how erect he had suddenly become. Katherina broke away from the kiss and rubbed a tiny hint of glistening saliva from his lip.

	"Thank you kindly, Max. Happy birthday to you, darling." Kat said. She rubbed her cheek against his and leaned in close to whisper into his ear again.

	"I'm so fucking wet right now, so horny and madly attracted to you. I think not only would I be okay with having you give me a ride, but I'd also enjoy letting you bang my pussy like crazy after you've brought me home. Would that be an okay birthday gift, you think? I mean, it isn't quite a cake with candles and ice cream, but I figured a sweet treat for an equally sweet guy such as yourself would suffice fairly well. So. Would you care to make me scream and moan in passion for you, shepcoon? Because if I could be perfectly honest with you, I'd kinda like to suck your cock and make you cum really hard on my cute little kitty-girl tits. Just be mindful of my feathers, they're really sensitive, so no pulling them loose. Otherwise, I want you to fuck me so hard tonight."

	Max decided to make a very fast exit with Kat. Glancing back and seeing Darrel getting frisky with Sable, Max suspected that he'd be okay. Sable would most likely take care of him, maybe even help the foxcoon guy out with a lift back to his apartment. For all Max knew, they might even decide to shag it up a little. Knowing how abruptly flirtatious Darrel could be, Maxwell didn't put the idea past himself for a moment.

	~

	 Kat helped Max make a fast exit from the karaoke bar, trailing closely behind him. At least he knew he wouldn't be going home alone upon the evening of his birthday. Instead, Max would return back to Katherina's home in good company, safe keeping for the duration of the night. He wondered if she also happened to smoke a little weed every so often. He also wondered if she had any random sour bitter envious boyfriends located somewhere in the greater Grants Pass area, apt to give her the stink-eye if she passed any of them by with a hot stunning new shepcoon lover in her midst. Max couldn't help himself but worry, for he was still slightly paranoid from the ganja he'd smoked before entering into the fun-loving karaoke establishment. 

	When they returned back to Darrel's car, Katherina opened the passenger door and sat down into her seat. Max was about to close the door for her when she yanked her top clean off, removing her shirt and exposing her supple petite breasts. Max froze in place with the passenger-side door open, staring down at her with shock and awe. Kat giggle-snorted and yanked a lever to make her seat recline back. She dragged her feline hand-paws across her belly and reached down to unbutton her pants, pulling them down around her ankles. Max saw that she had purple and red striped panties on and nearly broke down in a formidable nosebleed. He knelt down by the open door and glanced into the interior of Darrel's vehicle, admiring Kat's figure. She crooned and purred, tugging at the hem of her elastic panty-strap. 

	"You gonna stare all night, or are you gonna go down on me?"

	Max needed no further invitation. He hopped into the car, closing the passenger-side door behind him. He slid the car keys into the ignition slot and turned it slightly to power on the radio, which played funky techno-grooves from a neighboring radio station. Max was cramped into the foot-well of the passenger's seat as he watched Kat slide herself further up onto the backrest and spread her legs, beckoning Max to act out upon his most insatiable lewd desires. Max took in his surroundings, ensuring they wouldn't be seen or heard. Darrel had parked in a much further spot than anyone else, for safety and privacy while getting high. Max knew that no matter how loud they got, all the sounds of their sloppy intercourse would be muffled by great modern-day insulation. The windows were all rolled up tight and the doors were locked shut. Max grinned and pulled his dreadlocks back behind his head even while he pressed his snout against the cotton cloth of her panties, inhaling and sniffing her scent as deep as possible. She moaned and reached down to clench her hand-paws upon his head, squeezing his pointy shepherd ears and tugging at his dreadlocks playfully. 

	"Care for a taste?" Kat asked Max, gazing down upon his face with hungry intent. She looked quite aroused and sounded hot and bothered. 

	"With all my heart." Max replied. He pressed his tongue against a small visible crease in her panties and lapped at moistened cloth as she moaned and nibbled at one of her finger-paws, perhaps to stifle any excessive pants and squealing. Kat wrapped her legs around Max's head and placed her footpaws upon his back comfortably as he used his finger-paws to tug her panties aside and spread her visibly aroused and sweat-tinged vagina, scented with a slight bittery vinegar stench, stale urine perhaps. He dragged his thumb against her exposed clitoris and gently teased her slit, priming her for imminent oral entry. He pulled her panties off, sliding them across her legs and letting them dangle idly off her ankles as Maxwell wedged his muzzle between her inner thighs and began to lick Katherina into a head-spin of orgasmic stupor. Kat screeched and inhaled sharp, gasping moans as Max's shepcoon tongue worked wondered against the fleshy confines of her calico-blue jay hybrid vulva. Max felt feathers lightly tickle his chin and back as Kat's legs locked in place around his head, pinning him down firmly between her spread thighs. She was practically choke-holding him as Max slathered his tongue into Kat's overly-sensitive moist throbbing heated feline hybrid cunt. He yanked his tongue from her slit briefly and teased at her puckering tailhole, lapping at her anal ringlets. His chin dripped with fresh estrus and his whiskers brushed against her labia folds, causing her to giggle and flinch in reaction to his ticklish antics. Max wrapped his arms around Kat's thighs and proceeded to give her the finishing blow, nearly sinking the tip of his muzzle into her spread-wide sex as he signed his name repeatedly into her pussy, dragging his tongue all over in a complex pattern of chained letters. M-A-X-W-E-L-L-M-A-X and so on. Kat shivered and flinched and buckled and humped against his face while hanging onto his dreadlocks for dear life, causing the car itself to sway and rock upon its struts. Kat couldn't contain her orgasm any further and let loose with a wet, warm stream sprayed upon Max's tongue, dampening his mouth and flooding down his neck, dripping from his fur-patched shepcoon chest. Kat shrieked and wailed with raw uninhibited desire as Max sucked her dry, slurping at her cum-drenched twat with predatory lust. 

	"God help me, you are fucking insanely talented at eating pussy." Kat said, struggling to catch her breath.

	"I'm even better at fucking it." Max said. He hopped up from the foot-well and planted his knees into the car's passenger seat, hoisting Kat upon his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close, drawing him into her personal space as Max thrust his fat knotted dick into her, refusing to cover up or wear any protection, knowing the risk and choosing to take it. Kat moaned and hugged Max against her chest as he started to thrust into her with rapid succession, rocking his hips and burying his knot into her folds. He smashed his pelvis against hers as they made sweet uncanny love in Darrel's KIA Optima. There was virtually no outside interference from any onlookers, which is exactly what Max desired. He craned his head down and nibbled at Kat's nipple, biting and sucking on her tit as he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, thrusting into her repeatedly. He locked his finger-paws behind her back and pounded into her with reckless abandon, refusing to slow down or stop, no matter what she said. 

	Katherina urged him to cum all over her fucking tits when he was ready to let loose, asking him not to cum inside her. Max wanted to cum in her so hard and impregnate her with a few cubs, but he honored her wishes and instead fucked her until they both reached a mutual climax. He hated it when girls were bossy with such demands but he also recognized her desire not to embrace motherhood so soon. Who knew what that would do to her solo performing career? Max felt her pussy clench tight and firm around his dick as she squirted upon his knot with glorious rich savory intimacy. 

	Max yanked his butt back from her groin and felt his dick slide free from the warm, tight confines of Katherina's feline kitty right at the brink of his own ejaculation. Luckily, he hadn't disobeyed her wishes and jizzed inside her like he had originally craved. Max reached down to stroke himself and squirt sperm ropes upon Kat's soft-furred fluffy belly, feeling his nuts drain dry with each fresh new orgasmic outburst, making his vascular tube spasm and fire off wave after wave of tingling pleasure. Ripples coursed through his body, echoing in his skull, defragmenting his nerves and making his ears ring slightly. Max felt as if he may have died just a little in the midst of his orgasm.

	When Max's shepcoon love-nectar supply dwindled and Kat's orgasm also subsided, she reached her frail arms out and wrapped them around Max's neck, hugging him closer than ever before to her chest. She could smell hints of ganja in his hair, mixed in with the coconut aroma of whatever shampoo or conditioner he'd settle upon. Kat's tail wrapped around Max's footpaw as she fell asleep in his warm embrace, belly fur chaffing against his dried-up semen. Max lay upon her chest for a brief moment, silent and basking in deep reflection of the dirty deed he'd just performed upon a nearly perfect stranger. He didn't know a lot about Katherina, only what he'd been shown in Sassafrass McSapphire's, but he knew right then and there, basking in that sultry afterglow of hot sex and raw lust that he and Kat had created together, he knew that he'd love to get further acquainted with her. Maxwell wanted to know what her parents were like, what she did in her spare time and especially where she lived. He would find that out soon enough, he supposed. Maxwell had been positively smitten with the desirable and talented young calico-blue jay hybrid anthro-girl, of that he was quite certain.

	He hoped not to find any surprise cum stains upon Darrel's car seat.

	~

	Darrel, however, had cum stains of his own to tend to. 

	The drunken foxcoon was knelt down in the VIP lounge area, positively smashing himself into Sable, sat upon the edge of a large bed adorned with black and purple striped sheets. From above the DJ's booth, he was hoping not to be heard by anyone downstairs. The canines kept their lips glued to each other nice and tight, tongues swirling in wisps and spiral motions from within each other's mouths, exchanging drunken breaths of heated passionate air. They had nearly stripped nude, save for Sable's undergarments strapped around her ankle and thigh and Darrel's boxers held on by his footpaw. Sable begged Darrel to knot her deep as he thrust wildly into the Samoyed-husky girl, drowning in the illustrious beauty of her sparkling vivid blue eyes. She gazed into his green eyes with an equal drive of raw erotic intensity, even while they shared a mutual orgasm. Darrel pumped Sable full of foxcoon cum and Sable stained Darrel's groin with her arousal, wet and warm and completely enveloping. 

	"You sure y'all can't give me an extra song to sing, beautiful?"

	"Not after one-thirty, you dirty dog." Sable said, grinning playfully and nipping at Darrel's foxcoon whiskers, brushing against her snout. 

	"That's a'ight, I'm sure I can make ya sing a purty tune back home later t'night, with my mouth wrapped 'round yer sweet sexy pink cunny."

	"Sounds like a promise to me... feel free to bring me back home, foxy-face. I mean... unless you wouldn't mind a little company?"

	"Ooooh, Maxwell got ya all flustered, didn't he?? I don't blame ya, he's a mighty fine-lookin' fella. Hope he's okay, not havin' me 'round."

	"He'll be fine, he went with Katherina. I'm sure he'll be just fine." Sable said, ignoring the horrible rumors she'd heard about the calico-blue jay hybrid anthro girl. No way would Kat stoop to such an incremental all-time low with Maxwell, that couldn't possibly happen. Sable couldn't imagine such a thing conspiring between them, not after witnessing how tight they became from a single night of karaoke fun. 

	"In that case, let's go back to my place! I'll show y'all a neat trick or two I learned from PornHub. Them humans always got some weird-ass ideas up their sleeves, I tell ya!" Darrel said, chuckling at his own words. Sable nodded and squeezed her vaginal muscles tight around Darrel's throbbing erection, truly hoping with all her heart that his shepcoon cousin would be okay and not fall into Katherina's narcissistic death-trap. Sable would hate to spoil any further potential fun they could still share before Kat's ugly truth became exposed unto Maxwell.

END
