It was finally Friday, and I was dead tired.

Work was a slog, as usual, but a slog always made the weekend break that much better. And where better to begin such a break than at my favorite hole in the wall, the Brass Lantern?

Stepping inside, I drank in the atmosphere of my favorite bar. The smell of wood, whiskey and cigars permeated the air and jazz played on the jukebox in the corner. It was a fairly obscure place, and everyone who went there regularly knew everyone else. It was a mystery how the place remained open since the list of clientele was short, but they never seemed to be in trouble.

So when I sat down at the bar and looked to my left, I was surprised to see someone new. It was a tall woman with long orange hair in an elegant red dress. Coming out the sides of her head were two large purple horns and swishing behind her on the barstool was a long purple tail.

The woman was already looking at me and our eyes locked for a moment. She got up a second later and walked over, heels clicking on the wooden floor. She gestured toward the seat next to me, her smile reaching her deep purple eyes.

"Hello," she greeted. "Is this seat taken?"