Page 6 of Echo and the Homicidal Sea Panda

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, making the left.

Before he could complete the turn, a sleek, black motorcycle came out of nowhere and sped past, forcing him to slam on his brakes.

“Asshole!”

Behind him, the car beeped again, and Echo cursed under his breath. He was the last to arrive at Skinny McPete’s.

Diego marched closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.“Therehe is! I was starting to think you were going to be a no show.”

“I had to circle the block a few times to find a parking spot,” Echo replied, scanning the interior. The place had a small crowd, but nothing like the other bars in town on a Friday night. “By the amount of cars, I assumed they would all be in here.”

“You know full well dolphins don’t come here,” Diego said, leading him toward the bar.

“I wonder why,” Echo muttered, searching the interior for Pete and happy he didn’t see the guy.

Pete had been attacked by one of his own pod—the villainous monster Maelstrom Marino. He was left horribly disfigured from the encounter, with scars all over his face and body. He was also missing an eye. It wasn’t the first time Maelstrom had harmed an orca in his own pod, either. The story of him killing his own brother had circulated when Echo was in grade school.

Echo flagged down one of the bartenders with the wave of a hand. A horrendous singer belted out the first line ofWonderwallfrom the stage, their voice cracking more than his bones did when he shifted. “What bar does karaoke on a Friday night?”

“One that doesn’t get much business,” Diego replied, waving a hand around the half-full bar with its half-assedPirates of the Caribbeanon a budget theme. “Pete’s likely gotta dosomethingto keep the doors open. People like indulging in their rockstar fantasies, so why not?”

The grizzled bartender finally appeared, and they ordered their beers. Once the bartender dipped back to grab them, Diego turned to him.

“Speaking of rockstar fantasies, it’s almost time for your punishment.”

Echo eyed Diego. “Which shitty eighties song did you pick for us?”

“Eighties songs areclassics, man, not shitty.”

Two beers were placed on the bar in front of them. Echo handed the bartender a bill. “So which one is it?”

“Guess,”Diego said.

“I wasn’t even born yet,”Echo argued, taking both beers. He handed one to Diego. “Most of what I know about eighties music, I learned from you against my will.”

“Against your will?”Diego asked, eyes wide. “Do I need to dig up the old videos of you and I lip syncing to Bon Jovi and Def Leppard? Because I will. I’ll put them up on YouTube and show everyone how against your will it was.”

Echo barked with laughter. “Go ahead, you’d be just as embarrassed by those as I would, old man.”

“Old man?”Diego scoffed, taking the bottle before he grumbled, “I’m only three months older than you.”

“Are you going to tell me which song I’m being punished with?”

“Nope. Not telling. You can be surprised when you get up there.” Diego scowled at him, but it was all for show. “I’m not sure one song will be enough to redeem yourself after calling me old.” He pushed away from the bar and turned to look at Echo. “I might have to make ittwo.”

“Nooooo,”Echo yelled as he watched Diego march toward the table with their coworkers. He shook his head before he followed, wending his way through the half-empty tables on the way.

“Echo!” their newest research assistant, Keeley, yelled over the sound of another terrible singer on stage. She clapped her hands together. “I didn’t think you came to these things.”

“I come on occasion,” Echo said, pulling out a chair.

“I’ve been here for nearly three months, and you’venevercome out for drinks,” Keeley said. “I assumed you were either a snob or antisocial.”

“Oof,”Jenny, their lead researcher, said before she tapped the top of her beer bottle against Keeley’s.

Echo blinked, sure that wasn’t right. He sat beside Diego. “It hasn’t beenthatlong, has it?”

Jenny and another researcher, Finn, both nodded.

---