Disclaimer: Wolverine and the other Marvel characters are not mine. The Bouncer and the Manager belong to Kielle along with the rest of Subreality. N-Gari belongs to JB McDonald and Nony. The only things I am responsible for are Mattie's character and Wolverine's physical state in this story. I am certain they will both get me back for all of this eventually. As for the rest of you, please don't sue me.

It was an odd day in Subreality. (Not that there are actually normal days in Subreality, but this day was particularly odder than most.) The Manager of the Subreality Cafe decided that he/she needed a relaxing vacation from all the hustle and bustle of the Cafe. After booking his/her flight to Cleveland (Cleveland?!) the Manager then started calling around to find someone to fill in at the Cafe. It took him/her five calls before reaching Cousin Matilda and asking her for a small favor.

Matilda, not knowing anything about Subreality at the time, agreed to do this small favor for her cousin. (After all, this was family.) Mattie (that's her nickname) was told that she would be instructed on what her duties were once she reached the cafe. She was very flattered that her cousin thought of her and figured that running the Subreality Cafe wouldn't be any different than running any other type of restaurant. In fact, she was looking forward to the experience.

She showed up at the front door at 8:00 am sharp to find that the Bouncer was already sitting on the front stoop reading a newspaper. He didn't look up at her until she started rummaging around her purse for the keys the Manager had given her for the cafe. The jingling sounds of the keys clinking together annoyed him and he growled, "The door is already unlocked."

Mattie was startled by the statement and almost dropped the keys. "What do you mean the door is unlocked?"

"Just what I said," the Bouncer repeated tersely, "`The door is already unlocked.'"

"Did you unlock it?" she asked.

"Of course not!" came the short reply.

"Then why was it unlocked?"

"It's never locked.

"What if someone walked in during the night and robbed the place?"

"That wouldn't happen."

Mattie placed her hands on her hips. This situation was becoming increasingly more and more aggravating. "And why the &($* not?"

"Why the &($* would anyone? There is no money to steal." the Bouncer answered while rustling his newspaper ever so slightly in annoyance.

"Alright," Mattie furrowed her brow. She was steadily getting a headache and her brain felt like it would explode. "The door is never locked and there is no money. What happens to the cash that people pay to get their food and drinks in this place?"

Seeing that Mattie was new to the scene and had no clue how the cafe worked the Bouncer gave a sigh, dropped his paper to the ground and stood to face her. He looked her over carefully before he continued.

Mattie wasn't very big. The top of her head just barely hit his chin, her strawberry blond hair hung loosely around her shoulders and she had soft brown eyes. Lacking a better word to describe her appearance, she was "cute".

He scratched his chin a moment as if in deep thought before continuing, "How many times have you visited Subreality?"

"None."

"Okay," he nodded as understanding began to dawn on him. "as I told you before, there is no money. Nothing gets bought or sold in Subreality. If you need something you just get it."

"So no one pays for their food or beverages in this place?"

"Yup."

"Then how does this place stay open and how do you get paid?"

"Listen," the Bouncer spoke very slowly as if he were speaking to a child, "Subreality Cafe stays open because the fictives and comic book heroes need a place to unwind between gigs. This place stays open and remains stable because it has so much patronage. The food and beverages are provided by the writers in appreciation for the characters' hard work."

"You still didn't answer me about your salary."

"That's none of your business." he growled, "I have an understanding with the `powers that be' and that's all you're required to know."

"If the door is always unlocked then why did my cousin give me a set of keys for the cafe?" Mattie asked, jingling the keys for emphasis.

"Knowing your cousin it was his/her sadistic sense of humor mixed in with the desire to plague me. I have yet to get a vacation and your cousin knows it."

"Sorry." Mattie sighed, trying to be sympathetic to the weary looking, muscle bound man whose chest she was staring directly into.

"Don't mention it." he stretched, "I'm used to it by now."

The Bouncer sat back down and picked up his paper. Mattie couldn't resist making one last request, "Since you know how this place works, would you mind telling me what exactly it is that I'm supposed to be doing."

"Just be prepared for anything!" came the curt reply as the Bouncer once again buried his nose in the newspaper.

After spending 12 hours straight working at the cafe Mattie was dragging.

She had counted at least eight bar room brawls. There was one fire that Gambit caused. (He had tried to sneak a cigarette without going outside the cafe. The butt got flicked in the near the vicinity of a beer keg. Luckily Mattie found a large fire extinguisher to dowse the ensuing blaze.) Something called a "N-Gari Eater"* left something fowl in the middle of the bar top that she had to clean up. (He did squawk his apologies to her while she cleaned though and refrained from making another mess which won him some brownie points.) Finally, Sabretooth became frustrated during a game of pool and flipped the entire pool table over. (The Bouncer was nice enough to help her put the table back right-side-up again.)

The bartender felt slightly sorry for Mattie and advised her to take a nap on the sofa in the back office. She hesitantly complied until the bartender assured her that she would be called if there were any serious emergencies.

When Mattie opened the door to the back office she surveyed the dim room. There was a small, slightly beat-up desk that had piles of papers and an ash tray full of discarded cigarette and cigar butts. Obviously the "no smoking" policy of the cafe didn't apply to this room.

She absently tossed the cold butts in a nearby waste basket that was half full of crumpled paper and manuscripts. Apparently some of the writers came back here on occasion to use the ancient looking type-writer that lay on the desk top.

The light from the hot pink neon sign outside cast eerie splashes of color into the room as it steadily blinked on and off. During one of these momentary ripples of light Mattie's eyes made out the couch against the far wall of the room. The sides had haphazard gashes in the ugly pea green leather. Normally she would not have touched it without making sure it had been de-loused but at that moment it seemed much more appealing than catching some sleep on top of a bar stool or the cluttered desk.

She could assume that the room had mercifully been sound proofed because none of the noises of carousing and raucous laughter interrupted the peace of the room. Her heavy eye lids began to close slowly. Sleep was steadily drifting over her.

The heavy, urgent banging on the door jarred her awake. Mattie groaned before mumbling "Enter."

The Bouncer came through the door and crouched down by Mattie's side as she slowly sat up, "We have a big problem!"

"If it's another brawl," Mattie began wearily, "They can tear the entire place apart for all I care."

"Nope, no brawl. It's worse."

"Okay, what happened now?"

"Well," the Bouncer looked nervous a moment, "Wolverine is drunk."

Mattie's eyes went wide with the statement and she exclaimed, "What do you mean Wolverine's drunk?! He can't get drunk he has a healing factor."

The Bouncer shook his head, "Trust me, this is Subreality and anything is possible."

"Fine. Are we talking `mildly tipsy' or `slobbering drunk'?"

"It's bad!"

"Exactly how bad is bad?"

"Let's put it this way," the Bouncer sighed, "he keeps making passes at Jubilee and Kitty."

Mattie rubbed her forehead a moment before concurring, "That is bad."

Mattie peered down the bar at Wolverine who was vainly trying to remain steadily seated on his bar stool. He had just finished a beer and was starting another when Mattie built up enough courage to approach. She glanced momentarily on the ten empty beer mugs on the table in front of him with the vaguest feeling that this was not very good.

Wolverine grinned congenially to her as he took large gulps from his mug. Unlike Gambit and Pete, who got smashed on a regular basis, this was his first time and he was enjoying himself. "YoU KnoW SUmThin', geTTin' DRuNk AiN't hAlf baD. It'ssssSs QuITe Libberate-in'."

"I think you've had enough to drink." Mattie suggested cautiously as she gently pushed his newly acquired beer mug out of his reach and took a seat next to him.

Wolverine looked hurt at this comment and slurred apologetically, "I'M ShhhhOry. i DrinK MoRe ThaN tWice ThiSH mUCh aNd NEverrrr Had TrUbble."

"I don't doubt that you drink more than this normally, but there is some sort of sadistic writer out there who thinks this is amusing. I don't doubt that you'll have a hangover accompanying this as well."

"ThiSH iSH the LAshT Time I taKe AdVieSH froM a Liddl' PeeSH Of paPer."

Mattie picked up the small piece of crumpled paper that Wolverine gestured to on the bar. Unfolding it she read:

"Try the Black Starred Python. It will really knock your feet out from under you."

Mattie sighed and turned her attention back to Wolverine. She could see how confused he was at this drastic turn of events. He would be characterized as a pleasant drunk. His slightly intoxicated and good natured smile seemed almost boyish.

*Too bad he's not like this more often.* Mattie mused to herself silently. She took his hand gently and stated, "C'mon, I'm going to take you to the back office while the bartender makes some coffee.

Just as she helped Wolverine get up from the stool, his stomach lurched and he ended up puking all over the front of Mattie's wine colored shirt. Mattie had to fight back the urge to wretch while holding Wolverine steady. Now she knew exactly why "the writer" had sent the Manager on vacation. If someone had spewed on the normal Manager, he/she would have quit.

Mattie tried not to breath too deeply as Wolverine leaned heavily on her shoulder. Staggering to the back office she inwardly vowed that she would get back at this writer if it was the last thing she ever did. Wolverine felt bad and tried to apologize but his slurred words were too clumsy to be understood accurately.

After laying Wolverine out on the couch and placing an empty waste basket beside him, Mattie ordered the Bouncer to sit with him while she got slightly cleaned up. She felt utterly humiliated walking across the bar to the ladies room while all the other fictives watched.

Just as she walked in the door of the ladies room Mattie noticed a shirt lying neatly folded on the counter. It was almost identical to the soiled shirt that she was wearing. As she gently picked up the shirt she noticed a note flutter to the floor.

The note was on feminine note paper with sweeping script that read:

"Sorry about the shirt. Here's a clean one. I'll pay for your dry cleaning. -Jael"

After Mattie finished changing and didn't feel as icky she walked out to the bar. It appeared as though it had magically been emptied except for N-Gari who fluttered by the jukebox. Mattie looked questioningly at the Bouncer who stood by the front door. He shrugged, "All of a sudden there was a call for most of the fictives and characters to leave to go back to work on various writings."

"What about Wolverine?"

The Bouncer gestured out the door, "He just staggered out of here and mumbled something about going home to sleep it off. Don't know how far he'll get though. His motorcycle vanished from the curb when he got outside."

Mattie grabbed her coat and briskly walked through the door, tossing over her shoulder to the Bouncer, "Since it looks like I won't be needed back her for a while, I have better things to do than hang around here."

"I come too!" N-Gari squawked and followed her out the door as fast as his batlike wings could carry him. Mattie didn't argue. She was getting to like the little guy.

She had just gotten to the bottom of the steps when she noticed a crumpled piece of note paper lying at her feet. Mattie gingerly picked it up and read:

"Wolverine, Sorry about having to purloin your Harley but you were in no shape to drive. I'll have it back to you tomorrow when you are sober. -Jael"

Mattie looked grim for a moment as she quickly scanned the misty streets for Wolverine. It didn't take long to notice him just as he staggered into a light pole and groaned some expletives while clutching his shoulder.

In the end, Mattie ran up to Wolverine and guided him through the misty streets as N-Gari trailed behind. This was not how she figured she would spend her weekend but it wasn't too bad. She comforted herself with grotesque pictures of her cousin and Jael's untimely (not to mention slow and painful) demises. When she said as much to Wolverine he agreed with a short snort.

"PUNISHMENT" N-Gari bellowed loudly.

Mattie nodded, "That's right N-Gari. Punishment!"

Fin

*Author's Note: I would like to make it known that the "N-Gari Eater" first appears in the story entitled A Month of Terror which was written by JB McDonald and Nony.