The Apocalypse comes to the coffee shop: Melinda Jean

It seemed the shop often had special guests. The pungent air, a thick inter lay of chocolate, burnt carmel, fruit and musty cellars waifed up the inside of Apocalypse's nostrils as the door came off in his grip. Cal the owner, looked up having a lypse he stumbling over his words "Apo" he managed to say. Apo was naked and muscular, his walk shook the wooden floor boards and cracked the planks under his wet feet. He smelled of ocean and now the scent of salt water and coffee was almost comforting and a corner of Cal's mouth started to lift. Until Apo spoke "Give me a large mocha, extra shot, extra hot, extra coco, don't go lightly on the whip and a long pull," he graveled. Cal had had Michelle Pfeiffer in before, but she was slight like a fawn and wore a baggy sweater pulled tight over her perfectly tanned body, her face beautifully regal. She didn't cause a stir, just wanted to come in and out and not be noticed. But Apocalsype enters and Cal has to think of remodeling, shutting down, having to give up his dreams. Thoughts move to what might become of Cal's coffee shop. Just then Apo sneezes, it's the kind followed by several more, the continuous sort each bringing down a different corner and as the walls fell around them and the smells mingled together of roasted coffee beans and sea shore air.