Tacohand Man

The inn was a slighty newer but it looked older. Many would think it was ancient by how the smoke hugged the walls. The multiple families of rats, spider-webs, or the blood that was never completely washed out. Wally's Water-Well seemed gothic era but wasn't. All the shady individuals that frequented triple W's didn't help it's image. The man that sat up by the window had just moved to town, hearing the stories of the place he still met here because of his new friend he made. He felt safe by the window. His friend had recommended sitting there. 

The man by the window was named Tom. First name, Tacohand. Last name, Tom. He didn’t like when people called him by his first name. His hands consisted of an outer shell, a layer of lettuce, small chunks of meat, five fingers that looked like minced meat and in the middle of his palm a dollop of sour cream. His parents had named him after his Tacohands. You may think this odd but in this day in age he was one of the more normal humanoids.

A ringing of a bell signaled a new patron walking in, looking over Tom spots his friend Qhris. His hair a mess like he had just woke up from sleep, his face masquerades youth but his eyes and attitude revel he is in fact much older. The cigarette dangling from his mouth gives the illusion of a punk, one you would see listening to the old rock of ages past. As he strides closer to Tom all Tom can think is how in another life if he wasn’t married he would try to get with Qhris.

"Tom? You there bud? You like a wee bit dazed?” Qhris asks in between smoke puffs.
"Sorry, i was just thinking..." 
But before he could finish the waitress finally stops by.
"What yo poison boyz?”  She had the smell of beautiful flowers, honey, and love. Smell alone would drive any humanoid crazy, but her look would make millions run in fear.
"Gin and tonic, more Gin less tonic.” Qhris replied. He feared if he looked at her he would puke just like his first time.
Tom made sure to look at her when ordering, to let her know he had no problem with her looks.

"Water please.”

The men sat for hours talking about life and getting to know one another. The watch Qhris was wearing beeped at 5, he had to leave.
"Sorry Tom, gotta leave. If I’m not back soon the wife will skin me.” This was a lie. Qhris wasn't a married man; in fact he was a lonely man. One with no one and that’s how he liked it. But today he needed a scapegoat. Poor Tom, he was the lousy goat. Before Tom could reply Qhris had killed his 16th cigarette and ran out leaving Tom the bill. He wasn't mad. In fact he made ok money compared to his old job. He just wished Qhris wouldn't have ran up such a big tab and then vanish.

When Qhris made it out the door his pace was that of a fast jog/light run. There was a loud Shout across the street.
"QHRIS! Get yo azz ova heer!”
Looking over Qhris sees three large men. 
"Bugga”, Qhris whispers under his smoke filled breath.
The two larger men behind the small man now pointed at him making motions to come over. He reluctantly crosses over.

The short stumpy man up front was vile looking. Looking like a washed up mini mobster that got his faced punched ten to many times. His hands were dripping. Looking closely you could see his hands are in fact two big enchiladas. Like Tom he was a Food-Handed Humanoid. His personality was slimy, like his hands. The two men behind him in fact didn’t even seem Human, but more like two big angry elephants. The posture and attitude announced that they were his bodyguards. 

"I ben looking for ya Qhris.” When the man talked he sounded like an old fashioned gangster sucking on a slimy brick.
"Heya slick! How's it dripping!?”
The vile man shoots a glance at his hired men. They start walking towards Qhris.
"Whoa there yee big strong men, no need to get all handsy. Enough of these good looks for you and yee mumkers.” Qhris was now smiling with a big grin. The hired helpers thundered over and grabbed him from each side on his arms.
A sick smile played across the vile man's face. "Hold em still boyes.”

"WAIT!!” 
"Na, noe wait. Ya talked your way out last time me boye.”
"I know I know! But this time something serious came up!”
Now annoyed but slightly curious the vile man flashes ten nasty meat looking fingers from his enchilada hands indicating ten seconds.

"Gee thanks Chila, cuz I can explain in ten seconds.” The grin had returned to Qhris's face.

Chila's face was now bright red, dropping two fingers he revealed 8 fingers still up.
"Don speek my name ya twit.”

OOF! 

One of the guards threw a left at Qhris in the stomach.

"Come on man! Im getting old as is!”

 Six fingers still up.
"Ok! Six seconds I know! So like I was saying, I was coming to see you but this new guy I met was talking ta me right. He mentions you. Then he mentions that yar mumkers is a good for nuthin burrito hand.”
Chila puts his fingers down.  A rage so intense that his whole face beats hot sauce red. It was well known to never mention some ones mumkers.
"Da ya have a flamin deaf wish?"
"I swear it's the truth! The man walking out of Wally's with Taco hands said it! Swear on me Mumkers!" 
When Chila Glances over he sees Tom walking out of Wally's.

Damn I’m good, Qhris thinks to himself.

"Boyes stay here 'n make sayre that Qhris aint move none.”

"Duh copi dat boise."
 

Chila shakes his head while walking across the street. Thinking to himself how his guards sound like they have no brain. But he didn't hire them for brains, only brawn. Chila approaches Tom throwing a dripping enchilada punch at his face. When it impacts sauce flies everywhere. 

"Hey ya two big dinguses could ya grab the stuff outta my jacket pocket?” Qhris tilts his head to his right jacket pocket.
"Dant call me dingus!" The guard shouts will punching him.
He reaches into the jacket pulling out a metalic looking ball. "Shock". Once Qhris says those magic words it shocks the first guard, knocking him out. Before the second guard can process what’s happening Qhris winds his arm back, then throws it hitting him in the nuts. This causes the guard to lose his grip. He  then quickly uppercuts the guard knocking him out.
"FLAMES, I think I broke my hand.” He looks down at his hand, now all mangled like it got smashed by a car tire. Wanting to faint from the pain (he isn’t a fighter, more of a talker) he watches Tom and Chila fight from a distance. 
The two Food-Hand humanoids are still going at it. Each punch that lands throws tacos and enchiladas everywhere.
"Bugga, this stuff only happens in those comic books kids read.”  Qhris mutters under his breath while he loads up his next cigarette and starts his dash to get away....