The dull thud of loud rock music intensifies to a deafening roar as you push open the metal-clad entrance to “Strays”, a new catgirl cafe that recently opened across town. Every surface inside is covered with a thick layer of black paint, then a layer of stickers, and then a coating of graffiti above that. Behind the bar, a burly human woman with brown hair in a tight bun is drying out the inside of a cat food bowl with a towel. A sign hanging above the bar reads “Petting is at your OWN risk!”, with a smaller one below reading “2 drink minimum”. A dented metal bucket sitting on the floor next to the bar has a handwritten sign reading “HAIRBALLS ONLY”. A door leading to a private room with no windows marked “Hissing Booth” hangs slightly ajar at the rear of the seating area. Lounging on various booth seats and barstools are an array of catgirls lazing in the bar’s stifling heat. Some of them bat distractedly at fidget toys, their tails flicking back and forth as they paw at the brightly colored feathers. A couple of others are nursing tumblers of milk, scrolling distractedly through their phones, or sleeping with their heads on the table. Seeing you standing and gawping, the bartender looks you over, then calls out. “Chat to anyone you like, we’ll settle up at the end. I’d say the ladies don’t bite, but...” She flicks a thumb over her shoulder at the sign above with a wry grin. “If you’d like to know who’s in tonight, just ask.” She returns to drying the bowl.