Tommy's Ultra-Important Keychain

Chapter 2: Tommy is really unlucky

"Welcome to Ender-Ice," Tommy droned for the five hundredth time that hour. "We're having a summer discount on all toppings. Buy one get one half-off."

There was no damn way that his eyes were seeing all the bullshit that had just stepped into his workplace. There was finally a break in customers, so the store was completely empty. Ranboo wouldn't be in for another hour because of his classes, so he couldn't hide in the back, and now a six-foot-tall world of trouble was smiling at him.

The black cloak with golden lining was iconic in and of itself, but the silver mask with gold leaf trimming confirmed that this was who he thought. Icarus, one of the most fearsome villains in all of Pogtopia, had stepped in to get some froyo.

Tommy focused on keeping his stare blank and straight ahead, channeling all the boring NPC energy that he could. Even when his knees shook, he ignored his fear in favor of running through every possible flavor of froyo he could throw at this guy's face if he wanted to.

Icarus didn't speak, but Tommy could feel his eyes staring into his soul. Somehow that was infinitely worse than a conversation, because the villain's eyes were pitch black. Not just the irises either. There wasn't a smidge of white visible anywhere. The television broadcasts did not do this guy justice.

He'd read a billion reddit posts from people who had seen Icarus in person and survived. They described him as flamboyantly terrifying, and now Tommy could see why. Icarus simultaneously looked like he spent an hour styling his hair every morning and like he would take a hostage for a few extra sprinkles.

"It's a self-serve machine, sir," Tommy said after an unnecessarily long silence had settled between them. Icarus's smug expression hesitated for a moment. "When you're ready to pay, I can help you out."

Tommy's brain had completely shifted into autopilot, and he wasn't sure if it was a good switch or not. There was a villain, a very infamous one, right in front of him and he was explaining how a frozen yogurt shop worked.

Icarus gave a small nod, slowly turning to check out the flavors. This would be Tommy's chance to call the police. All he had to do was quickly step into the back and grab his phone from his hoodie pocket. That was, of course, easier said than done. He found his feet glued to the floor as the only visible evidence that he was scared shitless.

"What is Birthday Cake flavor," Icarus spoke up. Tommy wanted to pass out. He knew from interviews with heroes that a lot of people used voice changers to hide their identities better, but hearing it on a villain was chilling. There was a slightly mechanical inflection to Icarus' and it had been obviously pitched an octave down from his regular voice.

Icarus turned to look at him, and Tommy realized he hadn't answered the question. Unfortunately, the moment he processed what he'd been asked, he was baffled. "It's Birthday Cake flavor, man," he said. "What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?"

"Don't get pissy with me. I just want to know what it means by birthday cake," Icarus scoffed. The voice changer was clearly not meant to accompany the bitchy tone its owner currently had, and the result was very amusing. "Is it vanilla or strawberry cake? The picture on the label has strawberries on it, but the yogurt itself is white."

"Why are you getting existential on me?" Tommy threw up his hands. "I don't get paid to eat the shit. Why don't you use the fucking free sample cups to try it like a normal fucking person?"

Icarus' shoulder slumped like he hadn't thought of that. His shuffle over to the sample cups was perhaps the most devastating walk of shame ever. The machine whirred to life as he filled the cup with a smidge of yogurt. Tommy held out a tiny spoon, and the villain took it gingerly.