Page 63 of Alpha Dragon's Mating Contract
Raptor puffed out his chest then. “Want a fortune cookie?”
There was a bowl of fortune cookies next to the kitchen doorway. “Fortune cookies are not part of Japanese culture.”
“They’re not,” Raptor agreed. “Butfortunesare part of Japanese culture; it’s just that the Japanese get their fortunes from temples, instead of a cookie. There are, however, fortune cookies sold in some regions of Japan.”
“I would’ve said you’re stealing the fortune cookie idea from the Chinese, but someone told me they’re not part of Asian culture, either.”
Raptor laughed. “They were invented in the United States by Japanese immigrants, supposedly. But I don’t know how it became a staple of the Chinese restaurants here.”
“Have you ever opened one?” Walren asked.
“Of course! But not recently. Here, we can each open a cookie right now.” Raptor grabbed two cookies from the bowl, handing one to Walren.
They both tore open the wrappers; Zebbie tried to grab Walren’s cookie from him.
“What does yours say?” Raptor asked.
Walren stuffed his cookie halves into his mouth, unfolding the slip of paper. “‘When your Love Cuc—”
He choked, coughing cookie crumbs all over the kitchen floor.
When your Love Cucumber grows to its fullest size, it will spray like the Fountain of Eternal Cum. It will throb to the pulse of the universe and our love will blossom like the pink rosebud of my body welcoming you home.
“Um,” Walren said, horrified.
“Why? What did you get?” Raptor leaned in before Walren could crumple up the fortune andhurlit into hellfire. “Aw! That’s so sweet!”
“That’s... sweet?” Walren squawked. He couldn’t imagine reading that aloud to his boss. “What doesyourssay?”
Raptor cleared his throat. Dramatically, he read, “‘My love for you erupts like Mount Penus when it’s a century backed up and you’re the first person to clean out its pipes. My love is so grateful, so thankful,it will fill you up so full.’”
Raptor had broken into song by the last line. All Walren could do was cringe.
“You’re givingthisto your customers?” he yelped.
The alpha had the grace to look sheepish. “Well, no. This seems to be from that new batch I ordered for some very exclusive customers, but there must’ve been a mix-up.”
“Has no one lodged a complaint?” Walren asked incredulously.
“Strangely enough, no. Hmm.” Raptor went over to the bowl of fortune cookies, picking through the pile. Then he turned. “Who added this latest batch of cookies?”
One of his sous chefs grimaced. “Uh, Hassel. This morning.”
“Ah, my stalwart minion.” Raptor cackled and began filling a takeout bag with the offensive cookies. Except he wasn’t scooping them into the bag by the handful—instead, he was picking some out and leaving the rest behind.
“How can you tell them apart?” Walren asked, inching closer curiously.
“There’s a lil dick printed in the corner of the wrapper.” Raptor flipped over one of the cookies to show Walren the splotch of pink. “Looks like we still have plenty of the regular ones.”
“Phew,” Walren said.
Zebbie reached out with his little hand, trying to grab a crinkly wrapper. Raptor gave the baby a cookie but shook a finger at him.
“No melting the wrapper, or I’ll take it away,” Raptor said sternly.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Walren promised, his heart melting again.
Raptor tied off the bag of questionable fortune cookies. “So, did it work?”
